“Cruel indeed, but I hardly think Artemis had a choice,” Ottilie said.
“How so? Actaeon is innocent. Ovid makes that clear.”
“True, but Artemis must protect herself and her chastity.”
“Why so mercilessly? Is it fair to suffer a torturous death for the mere act of strolling through the woods?”
“I believe the situation is more complex than that.” Ottilie paused to think how to explain this female predicament to Jack. “Early in life, women are taught to safeguard their reputations and chastity as fiercely as a mother protects her babe. And if she fails to do so, the consequences will be tantamount to death. As the goddess of chastity, Artemis stands as a shining example to women.”
“You believe Artemis acted fairly?”
“She acted in the extreme, the way an angry goddess would. But the lesson she teaches resonates with all women—if a woman’s reputation is compromised, it is because she wasn’t vigilant enough.”
Jack’s forehead creased. “So, Artemis was wrong for exposing herself by bathing naked in the woods; therefore, Actaeon had to die?”
“She was not wrong for bathing in the woods, but she would have been wrong to let Actaeon go free.”
“I fail to follow your logic. What danger can a mere mortal present to a goddess?”
“He may be a mortal, but he is still a man, and he has the power to damage her reputation.”
“Go on,” Jack said.
“What if Artemis lets Actaeon walk away unscathed, and a few days later, he drinks a little too much wine and boasts to his friends about how he saw the goddess of chastity bathing in the forest—not an unlikely scenario, is it?”
Jack grinned. “He’d be a fool because Artemis would hunt him down and kill him. And she’d be justified in doing so.”
“Exactly,” Ottilie said. “She would still have to kill him, but not before he exposed her to the world for failing to protect her chastity. How would she look then? Her reputation would suffer even though her only fault would have been showing mercy. Better to be seen as cruel than unchaste.”
Jack edged closer to her, closing the gap between them. “If you follow that logic, you would be wise to kill me.”
Ottilie’s stomach knotted. He was right, of course. She risked a scandal sitting in Jack’s parlor, but she did not care. Everything about Jack made her want to abandon all logic. She craved his touch and doubted she’d be able to tear herself from him if the house suddenly caught on fire. He reached out and caressed her jaw, sending a rush of pleasure surging through her. They gazed at each other as he brushed his thumb lightly over her lips.Chastity be damned, she thought, closing her eyes in anticipation of his kiss.
It never came.
She looked at him. Jack’s dark gaze had never left her face and expressed the same longing she felt. Ottilie brought her hand to his cheek and leaned forward, aching for the feel of his lips. Their legs pressed together as she touched her lips softly against his. The sensation set her nerves on fire. He let out a soft moan, but instead of returning her kiss, he clasped her wrist and gently removed her hand from his cheek.
The warmth left Ottilie’s body. She turned away from him, humiliated. What happened? Had the most notorious rake in all of England declined to kiss her? After she’d offered herself up to him like a dog wanting its belly scratched? She cursed herself. Since when had she become so predictable and pathetically needy? What must he think of her now?
“You’re beautiful,” Jack said.
She stood abruptly. This was only a game to him, and she refused to continue embarrassing herself. “It’s time for me to go.”
“Don’t.” He caught her by the wrist as she turned to retrieve her cape.
He stood up. “Don’t leave like this—you’re upset with me.”
“I’m upset with myself. I have behaved ridiculously.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve behaved like a woman. There’s nothing ridiculous about a woman desiring a man.”
Humiliation engulfed her. She squirmed to get away, but he pulled her toward him.
“You mustn’t think I don’t desire you. I have never wanted anyone more. If you weren’t Hudsyn’s cousin, then—”
Her body went rigid. Henry? Did he restrain himself out of concern for her cousin? Henry had done as he pleased and left her to fend for herself. So had her stepfather, her grandfather, and her own father. She was an independent woman who earned her keep, and she did not need to answer to her cousin.
“Well, I suppose I should be thankful that you harbor such great respect for my cousin.”
