Chapter Eight #2
Foolishness, Reginald knew. It was only natural that she would seek the answer to that question eventually. He had hoped—idiot that he was—that Jessica would only brave the question once they were married.
And now here he stood, forced to either lie or confront her with a truth that she would not like.
“Well?” Jessica said quietly. “You didn’t draw me out of a hat, did you?”
Reginald forced a laugh, more to break the tension in his own chest than anything else. “Oh, no, most definitely not.”
“So there was some reasoning behind me as a choice?” she persisted.
Damn her intellect, and damn her inquisitiveness.
Not that Reginald could put much heart into the thought. It was natural for her to wonder, was it not? And now here he was, standing in the billiards room and hoping desperately that someone would interrupt them.
“Was that your mother calling you just now?” he tried hopefully.
Jessica did not even turn around, her gaze never leaving his face. “No, it was not. Why don’t you want to tell me? Is… Is it bad?”
Bad? “No,” Reginald said, mostly truthfully.
That was it—mostly truthful. As long as he could stay on the side of mostly truthful, he would probably be fine.
Probably.
“Look, I could have picked anyone,” began Reginald, sweeping his arms into an expansive arc as though to demonstrate that in many ways, there was no story here whatsoever.
It did not work. A flicker of pain, a shadow, and then a frown all hovered over Jessica’s face in quick succession. “Am I supposed to feel flattered? Grateful, that of my more beautiful cousins and sisters, you chose me?”
“No! No, that’s—that’s not what I meant!”
Reginald tried to grin. He had little experience in flattery; that was, he had a great deal of experience in flattery, but not of this kind.
No, the flattery he had utilized in the past had meant nothing. A smile in the street, a laugh during a dance, a whist player who enjoyed their time at the card table or a dinner partner who was not bored by him…
That was the flattery he had typically used.
This was different. He was, Reginald was starting to realize, actually interested in Jessica’s good opinion of him. Not merely because they were to wed, though that was helpful. But because… Well. Because it was Jessica.
So. He would need to flatter, and he could not lie. Had any gentleman ever been in such a pickle?
“I had heard of your reputation,” Reginald said slowly, carefully selecting every word and examining it in the privacy of his own mind before speaking it to ensure that it was both mostly true—and unlikely to offend. “Your reputation in Society, I mean. Everyone has heard of Miss Jessica Chance.”
She frowned. “They may have heard of me, but I doubt they spoke of me often. They frequently forget to invite me events to which they welcome my entire family, despite bearing no ill will toward me.”
He still couldn’t believe the cheek of anyone so thoughtless. “That is awful, truly. But I heard of you regardless. It was a name that sung melodiously in my mind. A name that stuck with me.”
And there it was—the smile. He was always able to create a smile.
“Oh,” said Jessica, her smile paired with a delicate flush in her cheeks. “I see.”
No, she did not, Reginald thought heavily, but perhaps that was the best way. Yes, it had been her reputation that had first made him think of her, out of all the Chance cousins who were currently available for matrimony.
Her reputation as a wallflower.
Miss Jessica Chance was a wallflower. And that meant, Reginald knew, that she would not have received much attention in the past from interested gentlemen.
Why, she may not have received much attention at all.
She would crave it, be willing to welcome it from a quarter she did not know at all because she had received so little.
She would, in short, be grateful for it. For him.
It had all seemed so simple at the time. Reginald had thought himself clever, in fact, to have found a way to calmly and dispassionately choose the woman who would restore his family’s fortunes and perhaps even become a companionable person with whom to live.
And now…
“That was before I met you,” he said unguardedly.
Jessica stiffened, her whole body expressing the sentiment that her mouth soon did. “You have altered your opinion of me?”
“I have, indeed,” Reginald said, and he stepped forward as the truth was more easily tasted on his lips. “For since I have been at Stanphrey Lacey, I have been captivated by your…your beauty.”
He had not expected that particular word. He had intended to say ‘geniality.’ She was, after all, a pleasant person to be around. Very pleasant, in fact. Far more pleasant than he would have expected.
But he had not lied—Jessica’s beauty had captivated him in that moment and he had spoken from the heart. As Reginald had stepped forward, the sunlight streaming through the windows had shifted and Jessica had been lit up and—
She was beautiful. It was a beauty only discovered through knowing her, Reginald realized. Knowing her and looking at her, truly looking at her.
Oh, it was easy enough to look over her.
Wallflowers were accustomed to being overlooked, and he rather thought Jessica had slipped into the habit of becoming part of the background.
There were so many of her sisters, after all, who took center stage, with their fashionable lips and their loud, pleasing chatter.
And that was before the cousins entered the fray.
But Jessica… Jessica was different. She had an elegance around the mouth, but one had to spend a great deal of time looking at it before one realized just how perfectly balanced it was with her chin.
Her jaw was soft, and together with her high brow, it rendered a face that was so perfectly proportioned, it almost felt impossible.
And those eyes—those eyes sparkled with intelligence, a trait Reginald could not help but find painfully attractive. She had wit, did Jessica, and it was only in moments like this when she was open to him that he could see it.
Reginald swallowed. And then there was her…her form. The curves that swept past people so often that they probably did not account for them.
He was accounting for them now. Remembering, in fact, when his hands had been clasped on her—
“My beauty?”
Reginald blinked. Jessica was staring with an expression that was not so much incredulous as disbelieving.
“You tease me,” she said quietly, and there was a discomfort in her voice that was the audible accompaniment to the way she crept into herself. “I do not want to be chosen from pity, my lord. Not that. Never that.”
It was astonishing—moments ago, she had been glowing, both thanks to the sunlight and the confidence he had wrought in her.
Now the wallflower Miss Jessica Chance was smaller, quieter, less vibrant, as though desperately hoping not to be noticed. As though she were becoming part of the background again.
Reginald stepped forward once more, closing the gap between them that was now but a few feet. “Beauty, yes. Have you never examined yourself in a looking glass, Jessica? Surely, you must see what I do.”
“It is Irene who is beautiful, not I,” she said dismissively, so swiftly that Reginald wondered whether this was a sentence she had trotted out before.
“She has her advantages, yes. But you are more,” Reginald found himself saying, utterly truthfully. “Your beauty lies not only in your curves, but in your character.”
Perhaps saying ‘curves’ had been going too far. Jessica’s lips parted—those painfully kissable lips. Why hadn’t he kissed her again since the ride in the forest?
“You cannot mean that,” she whispered.
Reginald grinned, trying to keep the rogue out of his expression.
“And why not? You are to be my wife. It is only right for me to enjoy the fact that my wife-to-be comes alive when she is truly herself. Your beauty, Jessica, it is incomparable to others’.
It’s… It’s you. It’s who you are, and it makes me want… ”
“Want what?” she asked after a beat.
She seemed mollified by his words, but her cheeks were flushed.
And his words had been true. Reginald knew that for a certainty. The fact that he had never said such things to any woman before was most startling, but then, he had never felt this way before.
Hang on…
“You mean a great deal to me, and I know you will mean just as much to my family,” Reginald said in what he hoped was a slightly more appropriate tone. Well, they were not married yet, after all.
“To your family?”
Her tone was inquisitive and Reginald knew, at some point, he would have to tell her about his father, his parentage, how the whole thing had come to be.
But not now. Not today. And certainly nothing about his brother.
And so he spoke quietly, imbuing his voice with an intimacy that did not feel anywhere near so forced as he had expected, and spoke truths.
Truths, yes. Not complete truths. But what wife wished to hear the complete truth from her husband?
“Our marriage will make a great difference to my family,” Reginald said honestly, holding her gaze.
Because she would save it. Her connection, her Chance name, that would reduce the gossip, the speculation about his brother’s loyalty.
She did not have to know that, of course.
Jessica frowned as she looked deep into his eyes, the moment elongating into silence that was not uncomfortable.
Reginald looked steadily back. He would have to hope she could see the sparse truth he had spoken in his eyes, for if not…
“I am honored,” she said softly, her attention dropping to her hands. “I-I hope you are not offended by me asking about this.”
“No. No, it is only natural,” Reginald said with a deep sigh of relief.
She had bought it, then. She had believed him.
One more day down. One day closer to the day that he would make Miss Jessica Chance his bride.
One more day that he had avoided spilling the truth.