Chapter Seven
Though the temptation was to run away and never look back, skirts flying, Jessica inhaled slowly and instead did something that any other day would be as easy as breathing.
She entered the library.
The thought flashed through her mind that she was being ridiculous as she crept rather than walked around an armchair and caught a glimpse of the man who, in a few weeks, would be her husband.
Yesterday, her father had spoken to the vicar at Stanphrey Lacey and written to their vicar in London, where the first of the banns had been read.
Her head had almost retreated into her shoulders as the whole of the congregation had turned to look her way.
Reginald had smiled and nodded, seeming to enjoy the attention at her side.
Her future husband was seated in an armchair, one foot resting on his knee to better allow the newspaper to spread out, Lord Llyne’s face furrowed in concentration. A line merely added to the attractiveness of his brow and his lips were pursed as his gaze flickered along the columns of the print.
Jessica swallowed. It really was most unfair that a man could look like that, so…so attractive, so intriguing, so elegant. The man had clearly had never made a mistake in his whole life. Only a man born to nobility, born to prestige, could lounge like that in someone else’s library.
And it wouldn’t have been such a problem if she hadn’t found the man so enticing.
A flicker in her stomach, a tingling tension across her collarbones that circled around her shoulder blades—Jessica knew it was wrong to feel such things for a man she hardly knew but… Well. He was to be her husband.
Which was precisely why she had braved the library, braved Lord Llyne alone.
Not Lord Llyne. Reginald.
Heat blossomed across Jessica’s cheeks merely at the thought of his first name. The intimacy—it was something she had never shared with any man who was not a relation.
Reginald. Reginald. Reg—
“Reginald,” Jessica blurted out.
It was a foolish thing to do, a foolish way to introduce her presence into the room, but his name had been so heavily echoing in her mind that it appeared her tongue had no ability to do anything else.
Lord Llyne—Reginald—turned around and his grin was broad. “Miss Chance. Jessica.”
It should be illegal, Jessica thought darkly as her cheeks burned, to feel this way hearing one’s name spoken. It was just a name.
Just a part of her. Just his lips curling around those three syllables, caressing them—
“G-Good hello,” she said blankly, coming to a stop in the middle of the room and waving a hand vaguely.
“Good hello”?
If the library floor had not been so expertly carpeted with an Aubusson rug of the finest quality—only the best for Stanphrey Lacey—Jessica would have ripped it up and hoped to hide in the depths of the earth.
Good hello? What on earth was my mouth thinking?
“Erm…yes. Good hello,” Reginald said with an expression that was either wry or cutting, Jessica couldn’t tell. “You came here looking for something?”
For you, she wanted to say as she stood there like a lemon, stranded in the middle of the library with nothing in her hands. What on earth did one do with hands, anyway? They couldn’t just rest at her sides, that was ridiculous, she must have looked ridiculous—
“Jessica?”
“Book,” she said aloud, regretting the decision to come in here and knowing she would never live it down.
This was ridiculous. In the billiards room, she had felt…different. The room had felt sensual, her bravery had suddenly come to the fore and she had spoken from the heart…
And then she had returned to her bedchamber. Played over in her mind the very scandalous way she had spoken to the man.
“So many balls.”
Now all her shyness, all her wallflower tendencies, had returned and in full force.
Now the very idea of being alone here in the library with a man to whom she was not related seemed disgraceful.
Even if it was clear her father had given his consent for her to see Reginald without a chaperone present, she still imagined someone else appearing without notice, the scandal of being caught alone with a man who was not her husband.
And yet here she was.
She supposed she would just have to marry him.
“Jessica?”
“I… I tried to say good morning and hello,” she said, her voice more breathy than she would have wanted it, but at least she was able to speak again. “And so I got muddled.”
Muddled? Yes, that was the right word for how she was feeling right now. As though her mind were in quicksand, being pulled down and down until it would be impossible to think or say anything ever again.
And Reginald—
He was smiling. Smiling?
“Muddled is allowed,” he said quietly. “I have been known to become a little muddled, in my time.”
It was the kindness he showed, the very understanding and gentleness that made Jessica’s shoulder blades finally relax. Perhaps that was why the thought that had suddenly struck her managed to escape her tongue without any time for her to consider whether it was a good idea or not.
“Do you wish to accompany me on a walk in the grounds?” she asked suddenly.
Precisely why her mind had ventured in that direction, she had no idea.
The library was surely the better place to attempt to get to know her betrothed: it was quiet, unlikely to be disturbed by her many cousins, and she could sit opposite him in a chair and examine his face as he gave answers to her many questions.
And that was perhaps why she had changed her mind. The thought of sitting opposite Reginald Blakley, Baron Llyne, as she… Well, interviewed was a soft word. Interrogated was perhaps more accurate to her plans.
Sitting across from him and demanding that he answer all her questions…
No, Jessica was certain she would not be able to face him. Perhaps walking side by side, it would be easier to speak her mind. Get her answers.
Get to know the man who had apparently decided she was his best matrimonial prospect.
“A walk? With you?” Reginald blinked.
And shame, blinding, scalding shame rushed through her. For a moment, Jessica couldn’t even see the gentleman seated before her, she was so self-conscious.
He did not even wish to walk with her. Had she made such a fool of herself that—
“I would like that very much,” said Reginald quietly, rising to his feet and reminding her once again—how could I have forgotten?—just how tall and imposing the man was. “Shall we?”
Jessica swallowed, her hesitation momentary, but the moment seeming to elongate out for miles.
He was offering his arm.
His arm. Before she’d met Reginald, the only gentlemen’s arms she had ever taken had been her father’s and her brother’s. She had never touched another gentleman.
And here Reginald was, expecting her to just…just take…
The wave of panic was anticipated, but no less overwhelming. This is why you’re a wallflower, Jessica told herself sternly. This was why you hadn’t found a husband in all those years of being out.
This is why it does not make sense that this man wishes to marry you.
Taking slow, deep inhales, Jessica forced the ground to stop spinning and her eyes to focus more on the man who sighed slightly now, bending his neck forward.
Was it possible…
Was Reginald disappointed that she had not eagerly grasped his arm?
“Thank you,” Jessica said softly as she half-stepped, half-tripped toward him.
It was a good thing that the man’s arm had already been extended, for if she had not been able to grab it, she may indeed have fallen. As it was, Jessica’s hands grasped a strong, unyielding arm that immediately bore her weight, steadying her and preventing her from spilling to the carpet.
There was something intensely secure about the man. The heat was to be expected—Jessica had known that she would flush the moment she was in any sort of contact with the man. Thoughts of that kiss, a kiss that would surely not be repeated until they were wed, flashed through her mind.
But it wasn’t just her own body that was warm. Reginald’s too seemed to be fiery, heat pouring through his sleeve into her arm.
Jessica lifted her head and her lips parted as she caught Reginald’s. There…there was something there, something he wished to say.
“Jessica,” he said quietly.
All her life, she had wanted romance. All her life, she had dreamed of moments like this—but now she was in them, Jessica found the heat prickling, the intensity of his gaze too much.
She pulled her hand away and exhaled into a brief smile. “Shall we?”
Not waiting for her betrothed to reply, Jessica marched out of the library as quickly as possible while still, just about, being polite.
It was a close-run thing, though.
Drawing deep lungfuls of air, she waited for Reginald to join her on the patio outside the salon. When he did, Reginald looked… Well, not saddened by their physical separation. There was even a twinkle in his eye, though Jessica decided that she was not going to notice it.
No, all she had to do was walk and talk, and learn more about the man who would be the father of her—
Jessica almost tripped over her long skirts as she violently pushed the thought away. No. One thing at a time.
“The grounds here are quite spectacular,” Reginald said, clasping his hands behind his back as he started to meander down a path. “I suppose you have seen them change over time.”
Yes, perfect, Jessica thought, eagerly moving onto the neutral topic. “I-I have, indeed. The poplars along there have grown a great deal the last ten years.”
“How wonderful for you and your family, to grow up in a place like this,” said Reginald with a grin. “Stanphrey Lacey, it is a wonderful place to call home.”
Jessica attempted to smile. “Yes.”