Chapter 17 #3
“For your forfeit, you must accept a kiss on your gloved hand by a gentleman of your choosing.” He paused and then with a sly grin he pointed at her. “One of the four of us. You cannot leave this table and beg that general of a father of yours to save you.”
Miss Blackwell lifted a shoulder with a shrug. “That is your worst?” she asked.
“No,” Harriet gasped, throwing a glance at the older men and women in the room. “Mrs. Wickerton will spread such gossip over all of Derbyshire.”
Miss Blackwell pursed her lips together. “That would have been easy enough. But I’m afraid Hattie is correct. We really can’t have a scandal during this house party. Especially now that Mrs. Wickerton is in attendance.”
Mr. Howard tapped a finger to his nose. “I concede your point. Which means I should embarrass you with words only. We are far enough away that none of the busybodies will hear us.”
“I don’t get embarrassed easily,” Miss Blackwell challenged, and I had the strangest desire to cover her mouth with my hand. Why was she provoking him? Must she always have the upper hand?
“You don’t?” Mr. Howard’s face brightened. “Well, then, this should be no trouble for you. Tell us, Miss Blackwell, has any man ever been favored . . . or I suppose I should say impertinent enough, to kiss you?”
Miss Blackwell went still. She kept her chin raised, but color drained from her face.
It was only for a second, but we were all waiting for her answer and I don’t think any of us missed it.
She tried to recover, smiling after throwing off her stunned look.
“What kind of gentleman would ask such a thing?”
Mr. Howard’s grin broadened and he didn’t say what we were all thinking: Miss Blackwell hadn’t answered his question.
Not answering that question could only mean one thing.
There was a sudden sharp pain in my jaw where I’d clamped down tight.
And why? The fact that Evelyn Blackwell had been kissed meant nothing to me.
It couldn’t. True, she did seem to question my commitment and morality whenever the topic of Harriet came up.
It would make sense for me to be offended by her supposed superiority all this time.
But I didn’t think that was it, either. If Harriet had admitted to the same thing, I wouldn’t have faulted her for it. I wasn’t even sure I faulted Miss Blackwell. All I knew was my body had reacted viscerally to Mr. Howard’s question and her response.
My eyes searched out and found Mr. Howard’s. They were bright with mischief, delighted at the position he’d just placed Miss Blackwell in.
The audacity of it hit me like cannon fire.
The man was the worst kind of cad. He’d exposed her to judgment—my judgment, even, and I had no right to judge her. If I’d had the opportunity to kiss Harriet, either six years ago or now, would I have taken it? Perhaps. In the case of love, such things could be easily understood.
But was Miss Blackwell in love? There was ample evidence a man could have captured her heart.
Hadn’t Charlie said she rebuked any man who tried to court her?
And she had laughed when I’d assumed the men of the house party had been invited for her benefit.
I thought she simply wasn’t interested in any particular man, but what if the opposite were true?
What if her heart belonged to someone already?
I shook my head. If that were the case, wouldn’t I have felt it? A man should be able to tell if the woman he was interacting with was in love with someone else.
Or at least I should have been able to with her.
That kiss could have happened years ago in her youth with a young boy near her age.
She could have loved someone in the past, like a soldier who’d died in the war.
She could have given a kiss as forfeit in a game like ours today.
There were so many reasons Miss Blackwell could have been kissed and none of them were relevant to me or the way we had interacted.
So why did I feel as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath me?
Someone had breached her defenses, had garnered her approval in such an intimate way, and I’d thought having one civil conversation with her over dinner a remarkable accomplishment.
What kind of man had made it past Miss Blackwell’s armor?
Davis gave Mr. Howard a look so stern it would halt an army. “Definitely an unfair question, Mr. Howard. I don’t want any part of it.”
Mr. Howard waved his hands in the air, though his grin remained. “I’m sorry, Miss Blackwell.” He stood and gave her a low bow. “We relinquish our right to forfeiture, on account of my discourtesy. All debts are paid in full.”
I willed my face to betray nothing of my thoughts and forced a smile, moving the focus of the conversation from the woman whose gaze I dared not meet.
“Except Brookhouse’s forfeit,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Even if I didn’t owe Miss Blackwell this courtesy personally, I owed it to her as a gentleman.
None of us at the table should have let our shock stop us from calling out Howard’s question immediately.
We never should have allowed Miss Blackwell the time or need to do it herself.
“We can all still look forward to that one.”