Before he could figure out what to say, Hyacinth was already responding. “I refuse to be connected to this—this—buffoon for any length of time.”
“Buffoon?” Beckett lifted his hat, revealing more of the humor in his face. “What, are we back in the Middle Ages?”
“You go farther back than that to the barbaric Dark Ages.” Hyacinth had a sharp tongue. Sterling had already known that. But she was proving to be even sharper than he’d realized.
Beckett didn’t seem to mind her jabs. If anything, he was enjoying them, even gaining momentum from them. “Most women like how tough I am.” He flexed one of his arms, showing off the ripples of his muscles against the tight fabric of his coat.
“I’m not like most women.”
“That’s for sure.”
She sniffed, her eyes turning cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a one-of-a-kind peacock.”
“Peacock? I doubt you even know what a peacock is.”
Beckett’s grin had only widened over the course of the conversation. Was that the sign he was willing to go for the plan?
Sterling glanced between the two. “So you’ll pretend to be a couple?”
“No,” Hyacinth said.
“Yes.” Beckett answered at the same time. “Course we will.”
“We won’t.”
“Hyacinth.” Violet reached for her sister’s hands. “Please. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like in order to make ourselves stronger in the process.”
Something sharp pricked Sterling’s heart. What was Violet saying? That she’d agreed to marry him even though she didn’t want to in order to make herself stronger?
The two sisters were quiet for a long moment, and Violet seemed to be silently pleading with Hyacinth to cooperate the same way she was. Was that all the marriage was for Violet? Cooperating with the plans in order to save them both from an uncertain future?
Sterling could feel the thrill from their recent kiss draining from him. Had he been the foolish one to allow himself to think Violet could want more from their relationship? What if the kiss had been more about convincing herself to marry him than being attracted to him?
“How long will I need to pretend to be engaged to…” Hyacinth paused, tossed a dark look at Beckett, then focused back on Violet. “To him.”
Violet pressed her hand against her sister’s cheek. “Just as long as it takes for us to figure things out and not a day longer.”
Was that true for Violet too? Was she planning to stay married to him only for as long as it took to figure things out and not a day longer?
Sterling wanted to shake his head in protest and shout out that he couldn’t do it, that it wouldn’t be fair, that he wasn’t strong enough to have her and then let her go.
But he bit back the words. As hard as it might be—maybe even the hardest thing he’d ever done—he intended to keep his word to Violet. Their marriage would only be temporary. When the time came to let her go, he would force himself to be brave enough to release her.
He had to follow through with his promise, even if it killed him to do so. Stiffening his shoulders, he crossed to the door. He had to leave now before either one of them changed their minds.
18
“Hey, baby,” Beckett called from the hallway where he was standing watch by the front door. “Would you mind bringing me a cup of coffee?”
In the kitchen, Hyacinth looked up from where she was pouring herself a mug. Her eyes flashed with annoyance as she turned toward the hallway. “I’m not yourbaby.”
“Course you are, darlin’.”
Hyacinth expelled a taut breath before reaching for another mug and plopping it down on the stove. “I ought to dump vinegar in it.”
“Go ahead,” Beckett called, clearly hearing Hyacinth. “Then it will remind me of you—hot but full of sass.”
