Jack sat back. Phineas was misguided. Phineas didn’t know Helen.
But Jack’s course was clear.
Helen must marry. Jack wouldn’t marry. Therefore, Helen would marry someone else.
But not Reeves. Jack would protect her and Kinmarloch from that.
And he would start by making it clear to Helen she could have no hope of marrying John MacNaughton, the Duke of Dunmore. Then, Jack Pike would find her another husband.
Twenty-Five
He told her she was beautiful, more than beautiful. She didn’t believe him, lying in bed with him, naked, his seed still on her skin.
What he said had no meaning. It was the fine eyes and the hair ribbon and the pink cheeks and her dirty blue dress. It was just his way.
But then he called her a thistle.
She believed that.
It didn’t matter, in that moment, if she was beautiful or not. She felt beautiful. As she had when her grandfather had told her she was. And everything came rushing at her. His own beauty and how he had shared it with her in this bed. His care for her in Kinmarloch by stopping the invasion of the Dunmore sheep. And the cottage being built right now and how he had managed it without damaging her dignity. How he had wanted to show her his land yesterday.
And how he had seen her just now. As she truly was. A thistle.
She looked into his eyes.
I love you, Jack Pike. I love you for seeing that I’m a thistle.
But she didn’t think she saw love looking back at her. Care, desire, concern, but not love. So she laughed and accused him of rehearsing his compliment and the moment passed.
But I still love him even though he doesn’t love me.
Jack came at midnight. Helen hadn’t known if he would. He hadn’t said he would. And after all, they had just coupled that afternoon, when he had convinced her to stay in London and told her she was a thistle and made her realize she loved him.
She bathed and brushed her hair in the hopes he would come to her again.
She opened the door just as his first knock was finished. She had been waiting for him and didn’t care if he knew it. Didn’t care if he knew she wanted him, knew she was yearning for him. It was the one thing he had always known about her, wasn’t it? That she desired him. She could show that to him even if she couldn’t show her love.
He kissed her as if he hadn’t just kissed her hours before. As if they had had a long separation. A deep, fervent kiss that aroused her heart as much as her body.
I made him realize today our time together is growing short. Because I will either leave or find a man to marry.
He picked her up as he had the first night he had come to the rooms. He carried her to her bedchamber. The lamp was not lit. He undressed her and himself in the dark and lay down next to her and touched her gently. Soon her breath was ragged, wanting him inside her. Why did that ache for him not lessen? Why did it come back again and again? Why could she never have her fill of this man?
“I want to light the lamp. I want to see ye,mo luran.”
He whispered, “Let’s stay in the dark, Helen. Don’t leave the bed. Let’s pretend we’ve fallen asleep together and woken up together, in the middle of the night.”
“Why did we wake up?”
“Maybe you heard a sound?”
“I heard a sound and woke ye up?”
“Yes.”
“Do ye want me to be frightened?”
“No, I never want that.” He laughed. “I would never believe that of you.”
