Chapter Twelve #2
That was what he’d been about to say. That the pressures of his life were not ones to share, especially not with a woman who was so shy, she barely blossomed into herself surrounded by her family, miles from Town.
Reginald swallowed. And the other thing that he hadn’t said, that he wouldn’t say because it would put her in too hard a position, was this.
I love you too much to marry you.
It would be a scandal. He knew it would be: a gentleman breaking off an engagement to a lady—it was inconceivable by most. Oh, it happened, but only among those people who did not understand the importance of these things.
There was only one thing for it. Leave and hope that distance would loosen the bonds that had somehow crept between them.
“I feel…I feel…” Blast it all to hell, why couldn’t he find the words?
Because you’re a coward, a horrible, little voice from the back of his mind shot out. Because you’re just like your brother: when things get difficult, you turn tail.
It was a terrible thought.
“You know,” said Jessica quietly, “sometimes, when I need to get my thoughts in order and I can’t help but feel itchy inside, I go for a ride.”
Reginald blinked. “A ride?”
“It helps me get my thoughts in order, and I know you, Reginald. I can see into your mind.”
Now there was a terrible thought. “You can?”
Jessica’s laughter was precisely the tonic he needed as she rose to her feet and gestured to a door in the corner of the wall. “I can, indeed, and I know that you are worried about the upcoming wedding.”
“I am?” he said weakly, following her and wishing to goodness he had more gumption.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to tell Jessica that though he cared about her deeply, it was precisely because he cared about her that he had to leave. Had to break this connection they were building.
Instead, she was leading him happily to the stables, where they were going to go on a romantic ride, just the two of them.
Blast it all to hell.
“It is natural to be worried about such things. At least, that is what my cousin Lilianna says,” Jessica said brightly as she mounted her mare from the steps provided by a silent stablehand.
She was not in a riding habit and so was obliged to ride sidesaddle.
“After all, it is a big change, for both of us.”
“Yes,” Reginald said wretchedly, hardly knowing how on earth he had managed to get here.
He mounted the gelding he had brought with him, a bright little thing who clearly hadn’t been exercised enough, for he jolted a little as they trotted out of the stable yard. It was easy enough to bring the beast under control and provided an excellent distraction.
The trouble was, when Reginald looked up in delight over the fact that he had not been bucked, it was to see the approving look of a woman who meant far more to him than any woman had any right to.
“What are you worried about, exactly?”
The question was spoken in softness, in curiosity—in precisely the sort of tone that Reginald would have expected from a woman of Jessica’s sensibilities and gentleness.
And there was no good answer.
Dear God, what could he say? That he was worried he cared about her too much?
That his affections, his desire was clouding his judgment so utterly that he was no longer able to make a good decision?
That his sister was depending on him to keep the family, his family, respectable—and that keeping the secret of their brother’s treachery was tearing him apart?
The weight of the letter in his waistcoat’s inside pocket was growing, bearing him down so heavily that Reginald was surprised his horse was able to carry the pair of them.
What had he been thinking? That he could march up here, to Stanphrey Lacey, pick out a bride as though she were in a catalogue at a modiste’s, and expect her to be delivered giftwrapped with no other consequences?
No. No, this had gone on far enough.
“I leave for Town tomorrow,” he said abruptly.
He had clearly spoken so abruptly that Jessica started, her horse jumping forward in disquiet.
If it had been another woman, perhaps it would have been a terrible accident—what a fool he’d been—but as it was, the expert horsewoman calmed the mare with a gentle pull of the reins, a whisper in the ear, a gentle touch.
Reginald looked away. Honestly, it was ridiculous to be envious of a horse.
“I thought you wanted to stay here, with me,” Jessica said quietly.
Hesitation only built the tension in the air between them, but Reginald could not bring himself to say what he had to.
That he hoped whatever feelings she may have for him would fade, with distance, with time, with a lack of him in her life.
That she would feel the need to break off the engagement, but if not, he would do it—and soon.
Before the news of his brother’s treachery was splashed across the papers.
Reginald sighed, and his gelding echoed him. Whatever his brother’s so-called assurances proved to be, this was going to be a scandal, one way or the other, and it was he who had damned Jessica into it.
If he broke off the engagement, she would be considered spoiled goods.
If the news came out about his brother, she would be tainted by association.
If they wed and the news about his brother came out after, she would be ruined along with the rest of the family.
He could not hope for the story to never come out. Even if it didn’t, and he finally told her after it was too late for her to back out, she’d never forgive him.
Reginald’s head hung low, the tension in him rippling out through his whole body. What had he done? This plan of his, he had thought it so clever, so positive; he had seen only beneficial outcomes for himself and his family.
He had given no thought to the faceless Jessica Chance at all.
He glanced over. The beautiful Jessica Chance looked back at him, concern in her eyes, concern for him, though he did not deserve it.
Well, it had to be done. Hopefully, if he left soon, he could break off the engagement quietly.
Perhaps the news had never reached Society—maybe London was none the wiser.
With a start, she remembered her father had written their vicar back home, and he’d begun the banns there, too.
Well, she could always say it was she who had changed her mind, not he.
After the news came out about his brother, she’d be well justified.
As long as her family didn’t talk, no one need ever know they’d spend time unchaperoned during their engagement, and perhaps she could be viewed as chaste still.
Then she would be free: free to marry someone else. Free to marry someone who deserved her.
“You look so serious, Reginald. I do not believe I have ever seen you so,” Jessica said, her lips pursed. “I suppose if I ask you to stay, then…then you won’t.”
And it was her disbelief in him, in herself as a power to hold him here, that finally cracked Reginald’s heart open and made him face the truth.
He loved her. He loved this woman, and he would do anything she asked—which was a danger, but a danger he could no longer deny.
“I will stay,” he croaked, no strength in his voice.
They had circled around the main parkland now and were meandering back to the house, and the afternoon sun lit Jessica up with a glow as she smiled, her cheeks pink.
“You will?”
“I will do anything you ask,” Reginald admitted, no longer able to hide the truth now.
Anything, anything she asked. He belonged to her now, even if he’d thought he’d been brave enough and good enough to give her up.
“You say that as though…as though I am important to you,” Jessica said, her voice low.
“You are.” And Reginald knew he was barreling toward something dangerous and yet he could not stop himself. “Jessica, I l—”
“There you are!”
Reginald almost fell from his horse.
“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to startle you,” said Lord Samuel Chance, eldest son of the Marquess of Aylesbury, with a wide grin on a gelding himself, roaring up to them in a blaze of hooves and snorting horse.
“We were going to have a game of charades. The rain’s coming in and the rest of the afternoon will be a total washout. Will you join us?”
Charades? Pretending to feel things, do things, and then have other people guess what they were until you were found out?
Reginald cleared his throat. “I…I do not think so. I have a letter to write.”
Which was true enough. He would have to instruct his servants back at Llyne Hall to halt the preparations for a mistress, at least for now. He had to decipher the nonsense within his heart before too long.
“What about you, Jessica?”
“No, I thank you,” murmured Jessica, her gaze dropping to her hands, her shoulders slumping, all the spark in her diminished as though she were a candle blown out by an icy gust.
“Well, fair enough—we’ll be in the ballroom. I think there’ll just about be enough room in there,” said Lord Samuel blithely. “Last time we played charades, Frank almost burnt down the morning room, do you remember?”
Reginald’s attention flickered between the two cousins. “Burnt—burnt it down?”
“It could have happened to anyone, Frank says.” Lord Samuel shrugged. “See you later, then!”
With a kick of the man’s heels, the horse and rider galloped off in the direction of the stables.
Well, that had been close. If I had not been interrupted, Reginald thought with a wry smile, I could have accidentally revealed a wonderful, frightening truth.
“What were you going to say?” asked Jessica innocently, patting her mare gently on the neck as she looked curiously at him.
Reginald stiffened in his saddle. “Nothing.”
“You were definitely going to say something.”
“No, I don’t think I was. And if I was, it doesn’t matter.
And if I had even thought about it, no, I didn’t,” blathered Reginald, utterly unable to stem the tide of nonsense that was pouring from his mouth.
“But your cousin’s right, you know. There is definitely rain in the air. Shall we head for the stables?”
There was a deep and entirely merited look of suspicion in Jessica’s eyes as she beheld him for a moment without saying anything.
The moment lengthened. After a few more frantic inhales, Reginald wondered whether he should just come clean about the whole plan now.
Look, he could say, I didn’t want to mention this, but I chose you from a list of potential spouses merely to hide the fact that my brother has betrayed the British to the French…
No. No, he could not see that going down well.
“Yes, let’s head to the stables,” came Jessica’s voice, cutting through his thoughts. “And do not think that you have escaped me, Lord Llyne.”
Reginald tried to laugh, but even to his ears, it sounded weak. “Escaped you? Why would I want to escape you?”
Jessica’s gaze was steady. “I have no idea.”