Jasper turned serious. “It can possess a person.”
“You knew someone?” she asked.
“One of my favorite teachers.” He nodded but didn’t go into detail. And she quite understood that.
“Seeing a person change like that…” she confessed, “It was very disheartening because there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.” She dropped her gaze. “I’m horrible, I know. But although I was sad when I heard about the fire, I was also… relieved.”
Because Rupert had become, at times, aggressive. At other times, cruel.
She shook her head. “But that is the past, and we are looking to the future now.” Her bravado was forced, but Jasper did not challenge it.
After an uncomfortable moment, Nia returned her attention to the parchment on her lap. Beneath items one and two, which were her responsibilities and subsequent possible allowance, she wrote the number three. Then, in letters that were bold and clear, she printed out the words, Consummation unnecessary.
And then underlined them.
Negotiations
Staring at the words Nia had added to their contract, Jasper swallowed the choking sound that threatened to escape.
Because despite himself, he vividly recalled the urges she’d ignited while seated in front of him on Bard. And then again when she’d cuddled against him as they’d traveled through the dark.
And the fact that the kiss he’d intended only as a tactic to keep her hidden had left him in an uncomfortable state for hours…
Jasper had expected to negotiate her weekly allowance, the number of balls he’d escort her to, and how often he’d allow her to refurnish his estates. He’d not considered the possibility of a white marriage.
A lovely pink flush crept up her neck and into her delicate cheeks. He couldn’t deny the heavy disappointment he’d felt upon reading those words. Not that it made any sense. Because ladies, after all, weren’t raised to think of sex as anything more than a duty.
And he wasn’t the sort who’d ever be interested in an unwilling woman—even if she was his wife.
But she had admitted to liking his kiss. And he’d felt her relax against him. She’d welcomed his taste, and she’d pressed her body tightly against his.
He couldn’t help but wonder, was she opposed to this aspect of marriage because she’d imagined enduring the marriage bed with Dewberry, or with men in general?
And there was one minor issue he had little control of. His responsibility to continue his line was an undeniable duty. This point was going to require some discussion—some compromise. And judging by the expression on her face, a good deal of finesse.
Before he spoke, however, she had moved on to item number four.
“Equal input in making all decisions. Asking, not telling.”
Jasper nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. She had escaped Lord Rupert, her father, and Dewberry, and was obviously determined not to live under the thumb of yet another man.
But she was young and naïve, and Jasper was, in fact, not only a baron but a man. He slid the small desk over to his own lap and nipped the pencil from her fingers. And beneath item number four, added, Except for circumstances when Westcott knows better.
His slashing penmanship contrasted with her more flowery one.
And as he expected, his addendum earned him a scowl.
“How am I to know when that is the case?” she asked.
“I will know. And consequently, you will know by the look in my eyes. I am specifically referring to those instances when I know what’s best for you.”
“You are not my father.” Her sweet dulcet voice took on a stubborn tone he was getting accustomed to.
“And I have no aspirations to replace him,” Jasper countered. “My intent is only to keep you from danger. If you want my protection, you must be willing to take it.”
Nia pursed her lips in serious contemplation, and Jasper had to stop himself from leaning forward to kiss them softly.
“I’ll allow it,” she said and then pointed at the paper. “Please add, ‘Under dire circumstances only. Otherwise, only following a fair discussion.’”
