Interesting that her mother had not mentioned Father’s objections. The omission further solidified Javenia’s assumption that the true barrier was Lord Roberts.
A billowy white handkerchief appeared from the sleeve of her mother’s gown, which she used to dab daintily at her nose. “You would not want to trap your friend in a situation he could not remedy, would you?”
The question hit her square in the chest. Would she?
No, she wouldn’t. She’d never want to force anything on him. The only thing she truly cared about was his happiness. But the way he’d looked at her when he’d realized it was her hand on his thigh, the light in his eyes and the intensity of his steady gaze when she thought he might want to kiss her was undeniable. He had to feel something, didn’t he?
So why hold back?
If they could fulfill each other’s dreams, why did he not unleash the desire she saw lurking behind his eyes?
Then again, if it was only desire, if it did not go any deeper than a need of the flesh, she’d not want him to give in. Was that what Algenon was frightened of? Did he not know himself enough to know the depths of his feelings?
Maybe he just hadn’t had enough time.
She nearly scoffed out loud. They’d had decades together. She’d fallen in love with him at the tender age of twelve, not that it’d been mature, nor had she understood it then. He’d respected her passion for life when no one else had, and that had been enough to win her heart. When the rest of Kent had told her to make herself smaller, quieter, and more submissive to gain their admiration and prove her worth, he’d encouraged her into loud, entertaining games.
She clasped her hands behind her back and tipped her head to the side. Was that really immature?
Her mother had gone on to speak about duty and honor or some such, but Javenia didn’t pay much mind until she patted her arm. “I shall give you time to ponder my words, but please remember to be wise.”
She watched her mother go, grateful to be free of her well-meaning lectures. At least Mama had thought she’d listened. It gave her time to ponder her own heart.
Maybe her childish love had not been as immature as she’d thought. Algenon still respected her, encouraged her to this day—even though he’d teased John about doing the same—and he still stepped in to protect her when her wild and whimsical heart made her stumble into danger.
Her hands grew cold and her left eye twitched. Thoughts of danger opened the old wound she hid deep behind her smiles. Apparently, it still festered with the same pain she’d tried to ignore.
It’s your fault. You don’t deserve respect or admiration.
Her stomach turned over, threatening to spill its contents on the floor. She could not think on this. Not today. There were too many people lingering about for her to risk casting up her accounts in front of them.
She pinched the silky overlay of her dress between her fingers and made slow methodical circles. The feel of the moving fabric relaxed her nerves.
“It’s not your fault,”she repeated silently in her mind.
The doors to the drawing room opened and she startled. The men had arrived much sooner than any of them had expected. His Grace must have cut short their time for after-dinner port.
She spun away from the door, not wanting to catch anyone’s attention. If she were to get a hold of her feelings, she needed more time.
Her mother’s admonition caught up with her thoughts.You would not want to trap your friend in a situation…
No, she did not. She wanted him to come to her freely, of his own choice. Maybe the list had been a bad idea. Maybe she should give up. She didn’t deserve his admiration, anyway.
Then a hand settled at the curve of her back as a familiar scent of cinnamon and sandalwood filled her nose. How could such a small gesture be so exciting and so relieving all in one moment?
It had been over a year since Algenon had seen Javenia pinch her gown in such a way. The sight brought a pang to his heart.
She was distressed. No, more than distressed. The pinch of her closed eyes before she turned her back to the gentleman showed pure anguish. Was she reliving memories? Who had caused it?
He glanced about the room before crossing to her, but no one appeared to be a threat.
Gently, he laid a hand at the small of her back and whispered, “Vee, are you well?”
He’d not meant to employ her family’s nickname for her. It had just slipped out. A little shudder ran through her, and he gave a gentle nudge to push her farther from the gathered group. It would not help the attention they’d garnered, but he could not let her struggle alone.
Javenia kept her gaze averted until they reached the far edge of the drawing room where a pair of chairs leaned against the wall. They were probably used by the servants to maintain decorum, but he and Javenia lowered themselves into the seats all the same.
“No one can hurt you,” he murmured softly. “I am right here.”
