“And with reason,” Ramsbury said with a faint smile. “But I suppose I could make some inquiries and make a meeting?—”
Ripley rose to his feet. “No. I’ll do it. I’ll reach out to my father, myself.”
Jane followed him up. “No! Cam, no, you’ve done enough.”
She had used his first name and it fit. This was, after all, the most intimate of moments when he was stripped down to the heart of who he was. The heart of his pain and his past and his loss. He could see the use of that name wasn’t lost on the others, either.
“We’ll leave you a moment,” Delacourt said, and the couples stepped from the room. Marianne closed the door behind them.
Now that they were alone, Ripley stared down into those beautiful dark blue eyes, rimmed with unshed tears and regrets. “She’s your sister,” he said softly.
“You can’t.” She shook her head. “You can’t. I know you don’t want to see him—speak to him—after all he did to you and to your mother.”
She wasn’t wrong and he wouldn’t lie or deny it. That would be sporting with her intelligence. “For you?” he said instead. “For you I’d do anything, Jane. You know that.”
Her expression twisted before she bent her head. She rested her forehead against his chest with a shuddering sigh. “Even if it destroys you.”
“Yes,” he said. They stood that way, quiet for a long moment. Then he drew a shuddering sigh. “Let me send a message to him and see if he’ll even receive me. He’s been fairly quiet since the last time he sent me a message and I wrote Fuck Off Tosser on it and sent it back.” He shook his head at how wide her eyes went. “But we’ll see.”
She nodded. “Thank you and…and I’m sorry.”
He cupped her face, loving the slide of her soft skin through his rougher hands. Loving how she tilted her face toward his without hesitation. Like she was his. Like he was hers. He bent his head and touched his lips to hers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck without hesitation and opened to him. He didn’t take. Oh, he felt passion rise in him, of course. Just being near her did that and would do that until the moment he took his last breath. But this was about comfort. His to her, but also hers to him. He took her in, reveling in her warmth and her presence and everything that gave him the peace he’d been looking for his whole violent life.
They parted at last and he withdrew from her arms with difficulty. He smiled at her, hoping it would give her comfort, that he could somehow show her he was fine with all this. Of course he wasn’t. And yet he would still do it and accept whatever consequences would come.
When Jane called for the others to return to the room a few moments later, all she saw was their kindness. Their support. It was odd that it was harder to see that for herself, but she was grateful Ripley had found it. He knew these men, after all. Depended on their patronage. It seemed he wouldn’t lose it. Perhaps he would even gain a deeper friendship by the time it was all over.
Ripley cleared his throat. “I appreciate your kindness,” he said to the group at large. “I wonder if I might ask for a bit more of it. Delacourt, may I send a message from here?”
Her lips parted. “You’re sending the message to the earl now?”
“The duty won’t get any easier the longer I wait. And we’ll be more likely to have a response the sooner I do.” His voice was rough as he spoke. Pained.
Delacourt nodded. “Of course. I’ll take you to my study and give you materials and some privacy.”
Marianne approached Ramsbury and touched his arm. Their eyes met, silent communication flowing between them. Jane flinched. She recognized that she had the same with Ripley. That was love, wasn’t it? Just knowing another person without having to say a word.
“I think we’ll leave you,” Ramsbury said. “But Ripley, if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate.”
Ripley looked at him with gratitude plain on his face before he shook the earl’s hand. Delacourt did the same, then kissed his sister’s cheek before he motioned for Ripley to follow him.
Esme squeezed Jane’s hand before she led Marianne and Ramsbury away for their own farewells. Jane drew a shaky breath when she was left alone. This felt like a storm she couldn’t hold back now. Everything would crash down soon, for better or for worse.
Esme returned to the room and wrapped an arm around her. Together they walked to the window and watched the Ramsbury carriage make its way from the drive and into the busy street. “Why don’t you two stay for supper after the message is sent?”
Jane glanced at her and the words bubbled up with her hardly knowing she was about to speak them. “I hate the shop.”
Esme blinked. “That’s an unexpected response to an invitation.”
“I’m sorry.” Jane shook her head. “I know I’m horribly ungrateful, but I watched Ripley be so brave in confessing his truth, I knew I had to share my own.”
Esme nodded slowly. “I’m glad you did. I know it’s very different from anything you ever knew.”
“It’s tedious,” Jane admitted. “And I live in terror that someone who knew me before will come in. It happened already. Elizabeth Bowerton.”
Her friend pulled a look. “Oh, I remember her. Nasty thing.”
