by Maya Banks
“But I didn’t want to avoid it,” she blurted.
“I see.”
“At least not in retrospect,” she added hastily. “I don’t regret the time I had with Gray.”
“Is your mother correct? Are you in love with him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “He refused me.”
He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “What do you mean refused you?”
She closed her eyes briefly. “After I broke my engagement with Stuart, I went to Gray and told him I was free, that I wanted us to be together.”
“And he refused you.”
She nodded, too miserable to speak.
“I see. And what reason did he give for turning you away?”
She shifted again in her seat, trying desperately not to succumb to tears again. Her nose was going to be permanently red and swollen if she didn’t gain control over her wayward emotions. “He said he would never be party to driving a wedge between me and my family, that you and Mamma would never agree to the match, and that he wouldn’t force me to choose between you and him.”
A peculiar expression lighted her father’s face. “Yes, well, it seems a perfectly sensible explanation.”
She frowned at him.
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic frown. “Listen, Jenna. I know this has been a trying time for you, and heaven knows I only compounded it by taking your mother on holiday to the continent. You obviously had need of us, and I failed you. For that I apologize.”
He paused a moment and stood up, moving around in front of the window. He turned back to her and continued in a regretful tone. “I now realize that the way I handled your betrothal to Stuart was not well done of me. I assumed, well, I hoped that you would be agreeable to such a match. I had confidence that Stuart was a solid young man with impeccable character. Indeed, I wasn’t proved wrong in the end. I was only securing a good future for you, or so I thought.”
He looked intently at her as if willing her to understand. “I will admit that the viscount approached me with the contract. I didn’t seek out an engagement, but it seemed a solid match between two families that had been friends for years. And,” he said dragging out the last syllable. “I owed him a debt. From years before. So when he came to me and suggested the marriage, I couldn’t very well refuse. Particularly when he hinted that he was no longer so plump in the pockets.” He broke off, gauging her reaction to his statement.
Jenna looked at him in shock. “So we weren’t betrothed as children?”
He shook his head, regret filling his face. “I told you that because I didn’t want you to think he was marrying you for your dowry. I hoped that your long-standing relationship with Stuart would carry over into an amicable marriage. I was wrong.”
She struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what her father was saying. He was admitting he was wrong. Unheard of! Arranged marriages were as ordinary as rain in England, yet her father was readily admitting he was wrong to have arranged hers to Stuart.
He continued before she could speak. “You are nearly one and twenty years old. Plenty old enough to make your own decisions. I won’t interfere, though it may pain me, but I trust your judgement. I won’t force you to marry someone you have no wish to be with.”
Her mouth dropped open. He was offering her independence? But at what price? Worry assailed her. Was he preparing to disown her?
He seemed to read her thoughts and let out a chuckle. “You are of course welcome to remain with your mother and me for as long as you want. Your dowry will remain intact. I’ve provided generously for you, and I don’t intend to change that.”
“Are you saying that I am free to marry whomever I wish?” The faint flickering of hope began to unfurl.
“I would hope that you would exercise sound judgement, but yes. I won’t stand in your way. I would also expect to be consulted. No eloping. No running away. And if you never choose to marry, I will support your decision though it may pain me to do so.”
Jenna looked closely at her father, his eyes sad and regretful. “I’m so ashamed.” She glanced away unable to meet his eyes any longer.
He cupped her chin and forced her to look back. “No matter what, you are the daughter of the Earl of Penbury. We are a proud lot, always have been. There is no reason to hang your head.”
She smiled, realizing that there would be no further discussion of her transgressions. The subject was officially closed. “I love you,” she said rising awkwardly to embrace him.
He caught her in his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest. “I love you, daughter. I only want what’s best for you.”
She winced as he bumped her shoulder. He quickly drew away. “Sorry.”
He let her go and turned to leave the room. “Promise me you’ll come to me from now on. I know I haven’t always been approachable, but I intend to change that.”
She nodded her head and he exited, closing her door behind him.
She should be dancing. Singing. Feel completely exulted. At last, she had gained what she had wanted all along. A choice. Only now it didn’t matter. Because her choice didn’t want her.
But she would not allow herself to dwell on it any longer. It was time to crawl out from beneath the rock she had hidden under for a week. She could not die even if she couldn’t contemplate ever truly living again.
###
That evening she went down to dinner for the first time since her parents had returned. She didn’t miss their looks of surprise when she entered the dining room.
Dinner was a casual buffet served from the sideboard, so she collected a plate and busied herself with placing food on it. She hadn’t anticipated, however, how difficult it would be to prepare a plate with one hand.
“Here, allow me,” Quinn said next to her.
She turned and smiled. “Thank you.”
He took her plate and began serving up generous portions of the entrees. “I’m glad to see you out of your room.”
He escorted her to the table where she slid in between his seat and Sebastian’s. Sebastian, too had a welcoming smile for her. “How are you feeling, Sprite?”
“Much better.” She busied herself with her fork, avoiding the glances thrown her way. She knew they were all staring at her, trying to decide if she’d recovered from her low spirits, but she couldn’t stand to see the pity in their eyes.
Her father cleared his throat, and she looked to the head of the table. “Your mother and I were discussing when the best time would be to return to Westerleigh. We’ve been away for so long. I imagine we all are eager to get back.”
Panic assailed her. If they returned home, she may never see Gray again. It could be a year before they returned to London, even longer if her father had any say in the matter. Though she knew they had no future together, she couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him.
But at the same time, seeing him would be agony. Perhaps it was best that she return home. Were she to see him with another woman, it would destroy her. And a man like Gray wouldn’t have to look far for female company.
“I thought as soon as Jenna is able to travel, we could return home at a leisurely pace, stopping off at an inn for the night.”
Her father’s voice broke into her thoughts. They were leaving. Soon.
“I think that is a lovely idea, Pen,” her mother spoke up. “I confess I am eager to be home.”
“What about you, Sebastian...Quinn?” her father asked.
They nodded their agreement then all eyes turned to Jenna.
“And you, Jenna? Are you ready to return home? I’d think you’ve had enough of London for the moment.”
She swallowed the food that now tasted of sawdust and nodded.
“It’s settled then,” her father announced. “When the physician pronounces Jenna fit enough to travel, we’ll take our leave.”
###
Gray swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the contents blurring befor
e him. He’d spent a solid week in a stupor, only wishing to numb the pain he felt in the very depths of his soul. Unfortunately all he had to show for it was more pain, in the form of a vile headache.
He’d been on the verge of going to Jenna’s house so many times. Wanting only to know how she was faring. If she was hurting. Just to see her a few moments. But he’d turned back each time, knowing that he wouldn’t be welcome.
And then she had appeared at the orphanage. Like a vision to a dying man. He’d watched her read to the children, completely entranced by her melodious voice. And then she’d looked up at him, and he had nearly drowned in her warm brown eyes.
How vulnerable she had looked. Her arm in a sling. His gut had churned all over again at the pain she had suffered. And all because he had failed to protect her.
She has spoken to him with such pain in her voice that he’d nearly crushed her to him. It had taken all his strength to let her walk out of the orphanage and once again out of his life.
Not even when Roslyn had died had he felt so utterly devastated and alone. He’d been given another chance at love and happiness, and he’d squandered it. No. It hadn’t ever been meant to be, and he should have realized it from the beginning. Should have turned her away the first day she came to his house.
A knock sounded at his library door. “Go away,” he snarled.
To his fury the door opened, and Masterson stood holding the knob. “Lady Lockhart is here to see you, sir. She was most insistent that you see her.”
He swore and dragged a hand through his unruly hair. He reeked of alcohol and hadn’t shaved in a week. In short, he looked like hell. “Show her in,” he growled.
“Would you like to take a moment to freshen up? I can have her wait in the drawing room.”
“I said show her in!”
The butler flinched at the ferocity of his tone and hastily withdrew. Gray slammed the drink down on his desk, liquid spilling over the rim.
A few moments later, Lady Lockhart timidly entered the room. He rose politely, and she walked over to his desk. “May I sit?”
“Of course,” he said gesturing to the chair next to her. He sat back down, and she gracefully settled into her seat. “What brings you here, Roberta?”
“I’ve heard disturbing rumors, Gray. I was worried about you so I came to see about you myself.”
“What rumors?” he demanded. A frisson of fear skittered down his spine. Had his affair with Jenna gotten out?
“I’ve heard that Lady Jenna suffered a wound and is convalescing at her parents’ home. Then there was the news of Viscount Dudley’s sudden death. It seemed a startling coincidence.” She paused and looked searchingly at him. “I’ve long suspected there was something between you and Lady Jenna. So, of course, I was concerned about you when I heard of her injury.”
He remained silent, waging an inner war over whether to confide in her or not. She was remarkably easy to talk to as he’d found out in the days following Roslyn’s death.
“I’ve done it again, Roberta.”
“Done what?”
“I’ve gotten involved with a woman I can’t have,” he murmured.
Her face twisted in sympathy. “You love her.”
He nodded, looking down at the glass on his desk and fingering the rim.
“And she doesn’t return the sentiment?”
“She says she loves me, but you know as well as I do, that changes nothing. We can’t be together any more than Roslyn and I had a future.” He longed to call back the bitterness in his voice, but it spilled out.
“I’m very sorry.”
He sat back in his chair and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I want to ask you something. Something I’d like an honest answer to.”
“Of course. Anything.”
He sat forward again pinning her with his stare. “If I had come to you and Roslyn’s father and asked for Roslyn’s hand, what would you have said?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked hastily away. She rummaged in her reticule for a kerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Sniffing delicately, she gripped her reticule with both hands. “I don’t know, Gray. I just don’t know. In my heart, I think you would have been turned away though it shames me to admit. But I’d like to think that another alternative could have been reached, one that didn’t have you and Roslyn racing to Gretna Green.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I know I’ve said it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey just how sorry I am and how much I regret what happened.”
“I know you are,” she said softly. “I too am sorry for what was taken from you. I’ve always regretted that my husband told such a dastardly lie to lure Roslyn back home. He preyed on her devotion to me. And now because of him I will never see her again.” She turned away, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Collecting her reticule and putting away her kerchief, she rose on shaky feet. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see how you were faring.” She turned to go but stopped and slowly turned back around to face him. “You look terrible, Gray. If you love her then fight for her. Don’t give up so easily. Go to her and don’t let anyone stop you. There are no guarantees in life. It may not work out for you, but can you live with yourself if you let her go so easily?
“Fight for her, Gray. If you want her, fight for her.” She turned and hurried from the room leaving him to stare after her.
He glanced down at the glass in his hand and hurled it across the room, listening in satisfaction as it shattered against the wall.
Coward.
No, he hadn’t fought for her. He’d been far too accepting of the fact he could never have her. Too accepting.
He didn’t feel badly for refusing to elope to Gretna Green, but he could have told her he loved her and that he wanted a life with her. Could have told her that he’d do anything to be with her, even throw himself on the mercy of her father. But he’d done none of those things. He’d turned her away and broken her heart.
He didn’t deserve her.
Things scattered over the floor as he angrily swept his arm across his desk. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with his palms.
He couldn’t give her up. Not without a fight. But could he live with the results if he couldn’t convince her father to grant his blessing? One thing was certain, he could not continue living as he was now. He was dying a little more each day without her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gray squared his shoulders and knocked at the Penbury residence. Determination infused his every movement. He didn’t relish the ensuing scene, but he wasn’t leaving without Jenna.
The butler opened the door and peered inquiringly out.
“Grayson Douglas to see the Earl of Penbury,” Gray bit out.
The butler’s eyes widened and the faintest smile flickered across his face. “Right this way, sir. The earl has been expecting you.”
Expecting him? What the hell was that all about? He hadn’t time to ponder the butler’s odd statement before he hurried back into the house. Gray followed him in, stepping around the trunks and valises that littered the foyer.
Maids and footmen scurried back and forth bearing more luggage to the foyer. To his right, the furniture in the drawing room was being covered by white linens. Dread settled in his stomach. It looked very much like Jenna’s family was about to retire to the country.
The butler stopped and knocked on the door of the earl’s study. The earl’s muffled call filtered through the door and the butler hastened inside. A moment later, he returned. “The earl will see you now.”
Gray strode into the library only to be confronted with the sight of Jenna’s two brothers seated in front of the earl’s desk. He groaned inwardly. This could be a long drawn out affair.
The earl leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his neck. “Mr. Douglas. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”
“I’ve come to speak to you about y
our daughter.”
“I like a man who gets to the point.”
“Then I’ll get to mine,” Gray said evenly.
“Would you like a drink?” the earl asked rising from his seat. He began to pour from the decanter. Gray’s gaze flitted to Jenna’s brothers who had remained remarkably silent thus far. They glared at him, though, promising harm with their eyes.
Gray almost chuckled. Such a prickly lot. It was a wonder Jenna was ever able to leave the house.
The earl walked around to the front of the desk where Gray stood and handed him a glass. Then he leaned back against the edge of the desk, his casual air in direct contradiction to the keen interest in his eyes. “You were saying? Make it quick, we’ve more packing to do before we leave.”
“I want your blessing to marry Jenna.”
The earl arched a sable-colored eyebrow, the exact color of Jenna’s hair. “You dare to come into my home after the liberties you’ve taken with my daughter and demand my blessing? What gives you the right to demand anything?”
“What gives me the right is that I love her, and she loves me.”
“Ahhh love,” the earl said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you think because you come in here spouting sad stories of love that I should give over and allow you to take my daughter?”
“I don’t care what you think,” Gray said in a low voice. “What matters is what Jenna thinks. I am not here to beg, nor will I grovel. If you care as much about your daughter as I think, you’ll not consign her to a life with someone who cares nothing of her happiness.”
“I don’t intend to consign her to anything. The choice of who she marries is hers and hers alone.”
He looked in disbelief at the earl, then to the unsmiling faces of her brother. “What game is this?”
“No game. Jenna’s engagement to Stuart has been dissolved and, should she ever marry, it will be to a man solely of her choosing. Think you have a chance of being that man?”
He gritted his teeth, controlling the urge to smash his fist into the smug expression of the earl. If it weren’t for the two overly large sons just waiting for an excuse to bash his teeth in he would have succumbed.