He was forced into it.
Yes, he had kissed her. And yes, doubt had felt impossible while his mouth met hers and he whispered things against her skin. But she was worldly enough to know there was a great deal of difference between a man wanting a woman and a man wanting awife.
“Jack,” Caroline said firmly, squeezing Lucy’s cold, tight fingers, “is currently the happiest man alive.” She glanced up as a noise came from outside the window. “And I think that is my cue to leave.”
How she could possibly guess Jack was outside, Lucy had no idea. The drapes were closed and the idea of anyone being at the window was improbable and absurd. But Caroline, Lucy had come to learn, always seemed to know a great deal more than anyone could guess. She left the blushing Lucy with a smile, and Lucy stood up, heart pounding, and went to the window.
She was still in her evening dress, had only tugged off her gloves, hands too hot as waves of fear had spiked again and again during the carriage ride home. She pulled the drapes aside and dragged up the uncooperative sash, not quite able to look properly at the dark figure who climbed through.
“Lucy.” His voice was rapturous. But though he took a step towards her, he paused. “You don’t mind me coming? I promised I would.” He turned to close the window and draw the drapes, then came closer, taking her hand between both of his. There was a smile in his voice. “And I think we need to talk about what happened.”
“Yes.” Lucy nodded. “Yes,” she repeated more briskly. She let go his hand and sat down on the end of her bed. Jack stayed standing, looking down at her with concern.
“What’s the matter?”
“You do know, Jack,” she said, pleating the coverlet by her hip, the words thick and tremulous on her tongue, “that I am not really an heiress?”
“Yes. And no.”
She looked up in confusion, and he came to kneel before her.
“You don’t know either, Lucy. You may well be—what could be more natural? The rumour has good foundations. But the real question is why does it matter? Why are you raising it now?”
“Your whole family thinks—”
“My family,” he said, taking her hand and smoothing the restless fingers, “are even more stupid than me. And that’s saying something.”
Lucy breathed a laugh.
“Is that what’s troubling you?” he asked gently.
“You did not ask,” she blurted. “And you need not, you know, marry me, just because we were caught. No one can make you—”
“Lucy, nothing on earth could stop me. Unless…you do…you do want to? Marry me?”
“You kept trying to persuade me I should still marry George!”
“You can’t imagine whatthatcost me.”
“And the things you said in the park that day! That you have no wish to really marry me, that you’ve never thought of me that way at all—that you loved Caroline!”
Jack huffed a wry laugh, grimacing as he squeezed her fingers. “Don’t remind me. No wonder you punished me the way you did. You’re right. I did deserve it.” He gave her a quizzical smile, half amused, half proud. “But how did you even come up with the idea? Cooked it up between the three of you, is that how itwas? Though I suspect it was largely Caroline’s work. I sense her ruthlessness behind the scheme.”
“Oh don’t! I can hardly think of that day at all. I was in such confusion, so stupidly upset! It was the thought of having to pretend—of that being all it would ever be to you: a joke!—when for me it was, was…”
“Real?” he said softly. “I understand. And I’m sorry. A hundred times so.”
She sniffed, and it was her turn to squeeze his fingers, grateful, embarrassed, taking comfort from him. He looked up at her, a dark glow in his grey eyes.
“But, Lucy,” he said, starting to smile, “look at me now, on my knees before you. Shall I do the thing properly? Marry me. Please.”
Annoyingly, she could only nod and sniffle, her throat choked.
“I’d rather you said it, Lucy,” he teased.
“Yes. Yes, Jack. I’ll marry you.”
He let out a breath, eyes shut for a moment, a man setting down a heavy load, or a man finally free from the darkest prison. Then he got up and sat down beside her on the bed.
