He swallowed uncomfortably and swayed. His blasted feet felt like bricks.
“Do you wish to answer that?”
“Pardon?” He struggled to focus as Chase strode toward the door.
“Don’t—” Jules held up a hand to try to prevent the blasted baron from allowing whoever was outside from entering but he was a moment too late.
He was in no condition to deal with his mother or Brightley this morning. The only person in the world he wished to see was Charley. After he’d washed and shaved and cleaned his teeth.
“I was hoping to find you here.” Charley peered around the door, looking curious and a little timid until Chase opened it all the way. She resembled springtime itself in a lime dress that set off her hair and even highlighted the lighter flecks of emerald in her eyes.
He must be in love if he was noticing the colors in her eyes while in his present condition.
Any other lady might have been put off by the prone but substantial sight of Mantis near the hearth. Or Chase’s wrinkled shirt. And if neither of those things sent her running, then the stench of scotch and stale cigars wafting throughout the room ought to have.
Jules rushed across the room to her. Realizing at the last moment that they were not alone, he caught himself just in time and instead of wrapping his arms around her, bent at the waist, making a proper bow.
She would be worth everything. The scandal, the guilt, even his mother’s disapproval.
Besides that, his mother would be over it soon enough. She would come to love Charley almost as much as he did… The thought was still new to him. Love?
Mantis remained inert so Jules assumed he’d passed out again, but Chase, after lifting Charley’s hand to kiss in a besotted fashion, slipped out the door, making far more ceremony of the meeting than the situation warranted.
All of Jules’ physical ailments diminished considerably now that she was here. If they had been alone, he would have held her close and buried his face in her hair.
She was his. Nothing was going to keep him from marrying her.
Clean, fresh, Charley.
But for now, he needed to tell her everything, explain the situation he faced. She’d discover the truth sooner or later and pretending the agreement didn’t exist simply wasn’t an option.
With her hands behind her back, she leaned forward and searched his gaze. “Late night?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.” But she didn’t seem all that alarmed at his condition. She did not, however, have her usual impish swagger. It was almost as though…
“I know about the contract,” she admitted solemnly.
His churning stomach, which had temporarily declared a truce with his head, took up arms once again.
And yet she didn’t appear angry with him. She seemed unusually calm.
Wondering at any number of scenarios in which she had learned this information and at the same time needing to offer reassurance, but then also remembering that she liked to inventory scents, he drew her away from the waste bin hidden beneath his desk and toward the hearth. “Don’t mind Mantis. He drank a little too much last night, I’m afraid.”
Her response was to raise her brows. “Good to know he yet lives.”
“Well. Yes.” He jerked his head toward the liquor cabinet. “We all did, I’m afraid.”
And then, facing her, he grasped both her hands tightly. “I didn’t know about it.”
“I know.” She frowned, blinking rapidly while looking down at their hands.
Still holding her arm, he lowered her to sit on the settee beside him. This wasn’t what he’d pictured when he’d imagined seeing her today.
“This doesn’t change anything. I have every intention of marrying you.” He’d make this perfectly clear to her.
“This changes everything!” She finally met his gaze directly. “From the very beginning, you reasoned that if there had been a contract, you would have been obligated to fulfill it. And now that one has come to light, it’s your duty to comply. Marrying Lady Felicity is your first commitment.”
