Chapter 6 #2
Another snowy figure appeared in the doorway, kicked his boots against the door frame to dislodge snow, then stepped into the hallway and wrestled the door closed behind him.
The lanky form with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and enough arrogance to fuel ten men belonged to only one man. Beckett Thorpe.
He was safe.
A strange weakness pulsed through Hyacinth so that she grabbed onto the brass calling-card table that was holding a potted fern. The old-fashioned table was too tall and wobbly to hold her weight, and in the next instant, she found herself stumbling and falling.
She crumpled to the wood floor with the table landing partially on her. The plant hit the floor with a crash, breaking the ceramic pot and spilling dirt.
“Hyacinth!” Violet called as she broke away from Sterling.
Before Hyacinth could move, Beckett was towering above her, his dark-blue eyes severe. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask for permission, and instead scooped her up into his arms. As he straightened, he drew her against his snow-crusted coat and started tromping toward the sitting room.
“What’s wrong, Hyacinth?” Violet asked.
The cold and dampness of Beckett’s coat sent a shiver through Hyacinth. She knew she should push against him and demand that he set her down. After all, she didn’t like being coddled. But she couldn’t make herself say the words.
When he reached a settee, he halted and studied her face. “You all right?” The layer of scruff on his face was darker and thicker than usual, giving him a rough, almost dangerous aura.
“I’m fine.” She tried for a sharp reply, but it came out breathless instead.
What was wrong with her? Why was she reacting this way? It wasn’t because of Beckett, was it?
She shook her head. No. Besides, this wasn’t about her. This was about the men and the cattle and how they’d survived. “How are you?” She half expected a smirk or a snarky comment about how he was glad she’d been worried about him.
Thankfully, he did neither and just glanced toward the window with his serious eyes. “We’re cold, but we survived and only lost one calf.”
“We were so worried.” Violet had followed them into the room and now stood beside Beckett. Sterling was still in the hallway, shedding his coat.
“We had to hunker down for a few hours since the whiteout was so bad. But we found a ravine, and that kept the worst from hitting us.” Beckett continued to speak without a trace of his usual mirth and arrogance, as if they were grown-ups instead of children.
She liked it.
Even though she didn’t want to admit he had some fine qualities, she’d lived at the ranch long enough to see that he was really hardworking, patient with the other workers and the livestock, loyal to the Noble family, a trustworthy friend to Sterling, kind and helpful to Alonzo, and protective of those he cared about.
He might drive her mad at times with his teasing comments and arrogance, but deep inside, she knew he had a good heart.
She didn’t think he would ever be the type of man who would sell his family to save himself like her father had done.
Since he was wealthy, he would never have to rely on a wife for money like her father had done.
And with his work ethic, he wouldn’t lose his job over and over like her father had done.
Should she give more serious consideration to his marriage proposal after all? Was he a better choice than Mr. Gray?
She needed to wriggle against him and demand he lower her. But she’d never been picked up and held like she was important. She doubted Mr. Gray would be able to lift her as if she weighed no more than a baby bird who’d fallen from her nest.
She studied Beckett’s face, the hard lines of his jaw, the firmness of his chin, the chiseled cheeks, the sturdy nose, and the perfectly shaped eyes. She’d never examined him so closely before.
As if sensing her scrutiny, he shifted his attention to her face, his brow furrowing. “What happened? Why did you fall?” His voice was filled with concern.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“How do you feel now?” Violet’s brow was furrowed.
“I’m fine. Really.”
Beckett didn’t move to set her down but instead scanned the length of her body. As his gaze returned to her face, she was struck again at how good-looking he was. And how she’d kissed him. Really kissed him.
His lips had felt so good against hers. Maybe she ought to try that second kiss after all. Of course, not here or now. But sometime soon.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and his lashes lowered halfway. Was he thinking about their kiss too?
Something warm fluttered inside her chest.
“You kissed her.” Sterling’s statement was tinged with anger. “Didn’t you?”
Having shed his boots, Sterling had padded into the room without anyone hearing his approach. He’d obviously seen a glimmer of attraction between her and Beckett. Or maybe he’d just seen them looking at each other’s mouths.
Whatever the case, he’d witnessed something.
Avoiding her gaze now, Beckett lowered her gently to the settee. Then he straightened and faced Sterling, who was now standing beside Violet.
Violet’s eyes had rounded, and her gaze was bouncing back and forth between Hyacinth and Beckett as she tried to make sense of Sterling’s accusation.
Beckett squared his shoulders, then met Sterling’s gaze. “Yep. I kissed her yesterday—”
“Hold on.” Hyacinth started to push herself up, but Violet placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “The truth is that I was the one who initiated the kiss with Beckett. It was all my doing.”
“Hyacinth.” Violet’s tone took on a scandalized note.
Beckett’s coat and boots were dripping with melting snow. “It wasn’t all Hyacinth’s doing.”
“Yes, it was.” She couldn’t let him take the blame. “You wouldn’t have done it if not for me coming out and throwing myself at you.”
Sterling released a low growl. “It doesn’t matter who started it. What matters is that it happened, and now Hyacinth is sullied.”
Hyacinth rolled her eyes. “Come on, Sterling. That’s a little severe, isn’t it?”
“Not in my book.” He locked eyes with Beckett. “Especially because it’s obvious Beckett wants more kissing.”
Beckett’s jaw flexed. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” Beckett spoke the words with finality.
Sterling was wrong. Beckett wasn’t waiting for another kiss. Maybe she hadn’t done it right. Maybe he’d been put off by her initiating it. Or maybe it hadn’t filled him with desire the way it had her.
She wasn’t about to question him, not even in private. Doing so would be too humiliating. The best thing to do was forget about the kiss.
She nodded firmly. “It definitely won’t happen again. Not ever.”
“See,” Beckett said. “Hyacinth and I agree.”
“It was a huge mistake,” she continued. “I regret it and wish I’d never done it.” Well, maybe she was taking the denial a little too far. But at the moment, in light of Beckett’s declaration that he didn’t want to kiss her again, a strange hurt was pulsing through her.
Violet was watching her, probably trying to see the truth of the situation.
Hyacinth steeled her shoulders. “I needed to test a kiss, and Beckett was handy. That was all it was. Nothing more.”
“Test a kiss for what?” Violet asked.
“It doesn’t matter.” Sterling again cut in, his tone still angry. “Beckett and Hyacinth crossed a line, and now they need to do the right thing and get married.”
“Get married? The two of them?” Violet’s voice rose with disbelief.
“Yes.” Again, Sterling pinned Beckett with a hard gaze.
“No, absolutely not,” Hyacinth said hastily, even though she’d just been considering marrying Beckett. Hadn’t she been listing off Beckett’s good qualities and telling herself he was a better choice than Mr. Gray?
Maybe. But that was before Beckett’s comment had reminded her of how they always rubbed each other the wrong way.
“I already proposed to Hyacinth.” Beckett didn’t waver under Sterling’s harshness. “She told me no.”
“Well, she’s changed her mind,” Sterling said.
Hyacinth released a mirthless laugh. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Come on, Hyacinth.” Sterling lifted a brow at her. “Be honest.”
She opened her mouth to deny him again, but something in Sterling’s gaze told her he’d seen the truth already and that she couldn’t lie. Especially because last year, she’d insisted on his honesty with Violet and with himself.
Violet was still holding Hyacinth’s shoulders and squeezed her gently. “You didn’t tell me Beckett wanted to marry you.”
“He doesn’t really want to marry me. He just needs a wife, and I’m the only single woman he knows.”
“Needs a wife?” Sterling’s brow shot up. “Why do you need a wife?”
Hyacinth mentally slapped herself for saying anything about Beckett’s situation. It wasn’t her place to do so.
Beckett lowered his head.
Was he angry with her? She wouldn’t blame him if he was. “I’m sorry, Beckett. I didn’t mean to say that.”
With a long-suffering sigh, he met Sterling’s gaze again. “I need to have a wife by the time I turn thirty in May to inherit my family’s ranch in Texas.”
Sterling was quiet, likely wondering why his friend had never mentioned such an important fact.
“I have to take my wife back to the ranch,” Beckett continued, “to prove I’m married. Once things are squared away and I make sure it’s being run properly, I’ll be back. Shouldn’t take me more than a month. Two at the most.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sterling’s voice held a note of hurt.
Beckett’s eyes held an apology. “The ranch is a part of my past I’ve been aiming to put behind me.”
Hyacinth guessed that whatever had happened had to do with his pa. Maybe his pa had hurt him too. Maybe they had that in common.
Sterling was still frowning. “I figured you had a past you didn’t want to talk about. And that’s okay. But you could’ve told me why you were looking for a wife.”
“Reckon I should’ve, but having to get married for such a selfish reason isn’t something I’m proud of.”
“It doesn’t have to be selfish, Beckett,” Violet interjected. “You can marry someone you care about and who cares about you, and I’m sure she would understand your situation.”
“It’s too late for that now,” Beckett responded.
“Hyacinth understands,” Sterling said at the same time.
Hyacinth wanted to deny Sterling, but the truth was, she did understand Beckett’s situation. He wasn’t looking for love or a happy marriage like Sterling and Violet’s. He just needed someone to help him get his inheritance.
Maybe her desire for marriage was equally as selfish as Beckett’s. She wasn’t seeking a partner for love or happiness either. She was doing it so that she could use the person to give her a better life.
With such a selfish motive, how could she marry Mr. Gray? That wouldn’t be fair to him. He might not expect the physical intimacy that came with a normal marriage, but he wanted a companion, a woman who cared about him, a friend, someone to share in the joys and sorrows of life.
Could she really give all of that to Mr. Gray? Did she even want to?
No, not really.
But Beckett?
She took in his rigid body and his brooding expression. If their marriage was an arrangement for both of them to get what they wanted, then they wouldn’t have expectations for more. They could live independently without feeling guilty.
“You understand, don’t you, Hyacinth?” Sterling repeated.
She wasn’t sure what the original question was even about. But it didn’t matter. She knew what she had to do. “Yes, I’ll marry Beckett.”
Beckett turned swiftly toward her, his brow raised, revealing those rich blue eyes of his. Eyes that probed her now.
“Good.” Sterling’s shoulders lost some of their stiffness. “We’ll have the wedding just as soon as the storm passes.”
“I don’t feel good about this.” Violet’s eyes creased at the corners with worry. “Hyacinth doesn’t like Beckett at all.”
“Hyacinth likes him well enough.” Sterling’s voice rang with a confidence Hyacinth didn’t feel. As he met her gaze, he dared her to deny him.
She wasn’t planning to admit she liked Beckett. Because she didn’t like him, did she? Besides, it didn’t matter whether they liked each other. They could still form a marriage arrangement without being best friends.
“You don’t have to do this.” Violet almost seemed to be pleading with her not to accept the proposal.
“Come on, Hyacinth.” Sterling’s gaze turned more demanding. “Tell Violet how you really feel about Beckett so that she doesn’t worry about you needlessly.”
“Yes, how do you really feel, darlin’?” Beckett quirked a brow at her as the beginning of a smirk tugged at his lips.
Ah. There was the Beckett she knew and despised. He was back, and the kind and considerate version was gone.
She glared up at him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure you know how I really feel later in private.” She would give him an earful and put him back in his place.
“Hy-a-cinth,” Violet gently scolded, obviously sensing the rising animosity.
“It’s all right, Vi.” Hyacinth reached for her sister’s hand and forced a wide smile. “Beckett and I are actually perfect for each other. And the marriage will be perfect too.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
Violet offered her a tentative smile. “I hope you’re right.”
Hyacinth hoped she was right too, and that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.