It was what she needed.
Whattheyneeded.
“You, Charley Jackson, most recently traveled from America and notably of the Pennsylvania Whiskey company, are the perfect woman for me: a lady who not only appreciates good scotch but excels at cards.” He leaned in. “Among other things.”
His voice was barely a whisper but his words, along with his breath caressing the skin by her ear, turned her knees to jelly and sent her heart racing.
It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how weak she was feeling all over. If he hadn’t been clutching her tightly to him, she likely would have collapsed back into the chair.
“You’re free.” She wanted him to know. She’d done it for him. She’d done it out of love. But she hadn’t done it so that he would escape one trap only to be caught in another.
He tilted his head to the side, a hint of confusion in his eyes while bracing her against a few enthusiastic congratulations as people who’d been watching patted her on the shoulder.
Tabetha was squealing and bouncing just behind Jules and—were those tears of joy in Bethany’s eyes? Perhaps also a few tears of regret? Felicity showed no such joy as she stood beside her father despite the few handsome gentlemen who surrounded her in support, including Lord Chaswick and Mantis and even Mr. Spencer. All in all, the room had collapsed into a chaotic and frenzied uproar. Charley wondered how many, if any, of the countess’s guests remained in the ballroom.
“Well done, Miss Jackson.” Even Lord Greystone seemed pleased with the outcome. “In the future, if I find myself in need of rescuing, I know precisely whom to turn to.”
“You’re going to have to find your own little heroine.” Julian tightened his hold on her. “This one is mine.”
“What is going on in here?” The countess’s voice rose above the melee from the doorway across the room. She caught sight of Charley, wrapped in her son’s arms, and the woman’s jaw tightened visibly as she pushed her way through the throngs of spectators. “Westerley? Miss Jackson? What is the meaning of this?”
But it was Lord Brightly who answered. He’d risen from the table by now and approached the countess, followed by Felicity, accompanied by Lord Manningham-Tissenton. “I’m releasing your son from the contract.” He glanced sideways at his daughter apologetically, “With neither of the two parties interested in such a union, I will not enforce it.”
“But—?” Lady Westerley’s brows furrowed and her confidence flagged. “They will come to accept it in time, surely?” Very little conviction sounded in her statement when, at the same time, her stare shifted back to Charley and Julian.
“It’s time we return to the ballroom for the supper dance, don’t you think, Mother?” Bethany was at her mother’s side but frowned across the room at where Lord Chaswick sat with Miss Somerset.
The countess didn’t budge. “But Miss Jackson…”
“Has promised me the supper dance and I fully intend that she keep her promise.” Jules’ voice left no room for argument. He turned to pin his gaze on Charley with a certainty that could not be mistaken. “And although I would have wished to have her father present, tonight I will make an official announcement introducing Miss Charlotte Jackson to all of our guests as my betrothed.”
A cheer, followed by loud applause, made it perfectly clear that by the time he got around to doing just that, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.
Forgetting his mother’s disapproval for the moment, Charley did nothing to stop him from pressing his lips firmly against hers. How had she lived so long without knowing she needed this?
Even so, when he turned his head to deepen their kiss, she pushed gently against his chest. “Your mother,” she whispered to remind him.
Charley felt a little sorry for her.
But she was not sorry for what she had done tonight.
Charley shifted her gaze and met the countess’s. The woman loved Julian. As did Charley. She could hardly fault her for that.
With a blink and a jerk of her chin, Lady Westerley nodded succinctly and turned to one of the manservants who, along with a handful of other footmen, began guiding guests out of the gambling room and back toward the large dining room where the meal would be served. No one seemed all that outraged or scandalized in that moment, and Charley couldn’t help but wonder if this sort of thing happened often at English balls.
Julian caught her tight and rested his forehead against hers. “You.” His eyes met hers. “Were sensational.”
“I think I might have ruined your mother’s ball.”
“Only if we were in London. Country parties lack the formality of a London affair.” He’d yet to release her as the room emptied out and Charley simply stared back at him.
Now was as good a time as any.
“You are free, Julian. To marry who you want. I know what you said a moment ago… But you have done what you promised my father. You have courted me and made your offer. My answer is no. You are free. And in case you think you are bound because you’ve ruined my reputation, allow me to remind you that my home is thousands of miles away and I have no need of a place in Philadelphia society. So again, you are free.”
At first, he frowned as his eyes shifted back and forth between both of hers. And then, he touched the side of her face and his mouth relaxed. “Thank you. This will be an important part of the story you tell our grandchildren.”
He dropped his arms from around her, took hold of her hands in both of his, and dropped to one knee for the second time in as many days.
