She’d disobeyed him and, in doing so, put herself in danger.
And that, he vowed, was never going to happen again.
They rode in silence for several minutes before he broached the problem.
“Nia.” He spoke only her name.
“I am sorry I frightened you. But I was perfectly safe—”
“You have not been perfectly safe since the moment I met you,” Jasper growled. “You need to learn—”
“I did not want to risk tumbling into the river while trapped in a carriage.” She folded her arms across her breasts. “That’s my right. I’m my own person now—”
“And that gives you the right to be inconsiderate? Did you not stop and think what I’d imagine when I found you gone?” Jasper ran a hand through his hair, catching pieces of mud and grass in the process. Impatiently, he shook his head before continuing. “It’s one thing to establish a smidgeon of independence. But you are the one who wanted to make our pending marriage into something that would be acceptable to both of us. If you want it to work, you’ll have to consider the consequences of your actions—on yourself and the other person. When you go off on your own—to God knows where—all the while knowing your father wants to track you down…” Jasper’s voice nearly cracked, and he shook his head, staring out the window. Frustration had him clenching his fists. This was a mistake. He hadn’t asked for any of this. “I should have realized. You’re just a spoiled little girl. I don’t know why I believed you were different…”
He knew his last words were cruel, but he didn’t care.
Mostly.
Hell, he’d apologize later.
Presently, he was soaked, as was she. Coachman Will said he’d stop at the next inn, but it was at least a few hours’ drive. Travel time could easily double that in these conditions.
He folded his arms, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. When he heard her fussing about, he refused to acknowledge her. Likely, she was brushing away the mud that had rubbed off on her when he’d thrown her over his shoulder.
Prissy little thing. Just going off on her own like that.
The least she could have done was let him know. He wasn’t an ogre. If she’d told him she was afraid, he would have walked her across himself.
He exhaled, and just as he wondered what the devil she was up to, he felt a light touch on his arm.
“You should get out of this shirt. It’s sopping wet.” Her voice sounded small.
Jasper opened his eyes but kept still. She’d removed the blanket from beneath the backward bench, along with the linens left over from their picnic earlier.
He studied the top of her head. Wet, golden strands glistened amongst a myriad of bronze, yellow, and even a few white strands.
She had not promised that she would go so far as to obey him. Even so, was unwavering obedience what he really wanted? Did he want a person, a companion, without her own thoughts? A person who agreed with him regardless and did only what he asked?
No. He knew the answer without having to think it through. Trouble was, he hadn’t thought he wanted any companion at all. And now he was beginning to realize that he might—if it was her.
Or someone like her.
Nonetheless, when it came to her safety, he needed to be able to trust her. The memory of thinking he’d lost her was all too fresh.
“Will you listen to me next time?” His voice was low and caught as he remembered the fear he’d experienced earlier.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...” She tried holding his gaze, but then just as quickly dropped her lashes. “I’ll be more considerate in the future. But you need out of that wet shirt.” She touched his hand. “You’re freezing.”
If the inn were closer, or if he wasn’t getting mud everywhere, Jasper might have refused for propriety’s sake.
But instead, he shifted forward, loosened his falls, and tugged the long shirt free before pulling it over his head. He couldn’t help but feel satisfied when her eyes locked on his torso, or when he caught her licking her lips.
She blinked and shook her head, and then handed him one of the linens. “You can dry yourself off with this. We don’t want to get the blanket wet.” She cleared her throat.
Jasper took the cloth and rubbed it down his chest, making a few swipes at his shoulders. But he wasn’t just wet; a few tenacious clumps of mud clung to him.
“I do believe you’re making it worse. Here. Let me do it.”
