The hopelessness with which she spoke nearly broke him. It was the same kind of despondent sadness he felt, reflected back at him by one of the people he loved most of all. “Felicity?”
She tried a smile, but it wobbled before disappearing completely. “He and I are all wrong for each other. We always have been, and wishing things were different isn’t going to solve anything. My only recourse is to move on, bury these foolish feelings, and try to be happy with what I have. Which is, in fact, quite a lot when compared with so many others. I’ve no right to complain.”
Nor did he, he supposed. And yet he could not stop himself from feeling as though he was being denied the quintessence of what made life worth living. All because he was privileged. He scoffed and shook his head. What utter tripe.
“What is it?” Felicity asked.
“Nothing,” he said since the alternative would involve him unburdening himself, and that wasn’t something he was ready to do that morning. But maybe she would confide in him? “If there’s anything I can do to help you win the hand of the man who—”
“Thank you, Jack, but there isn’t, and speaking of it will not make that fact any easier.”
“I’m sorry.” Was it just him, or was that becoming the most popular phrase of late?
She offered a smile, turned a page of sheet music, and started on a lively tune.
Jack sat for a moment and watched her play before he stood and went to help Mr. Richmond complete the repairs on his roof as promised. Later, he’d inquire if any of the gentlemen might want to help him fetch a Yule log from the woods. That ought to keep him busy for a few extra hours. Afterward, he’d have to think of something else to take his mind off Sophia, from Felicity’s heartbreaking revelation so similar to his own, and from the weight bearing down on his soul.
Little did he know that things were about to get worse. His parents would not allow him to stay home from church on Sunday. Not when all the guests wished to go and certainly not when he’d always been known to accompany his family to the weekly service. Even when they’d been in London.
So here he was now, gritting his teeth while Mr. Fenmore called the banns for Sophia and Edward. It was horrific. Like a carriage crash he could not look away from. Doing so was made all the harder due to his family’s status, which reserved them seats at the front of the church. As it happened, the spot made available to him today was located immediately behind the vicar’s son and his bride-to-be.
Jack stared at the back of Sophia’s neck, at the way in which her dove-gray bonnet curved along her hairline. Her pelisse collar started one inch lower, but in between, there was a tantalizing display of bare skin. His fingers twitched with the fierce desire to reach up and stroke his way across it. For now that he’d kissed her, held her in his arms and knew how smooth she was to the touch, he was tempted by her more than ever before.
“Jack.”
Kaitlin’s voice, a low whisper, dragged his gaze from the source of his interest. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
Not by a long shot. “Yes.”
She frowned at him. “Then why do you look like you’re about to murder someone?”
He scowled at her. “I’m fine.”
Only he wasn’t. His insides were twisted so tightly he could scarcely breathe, his posture so rigid he feared he might snap at any moment. So when the service drew to an end and he had the chance to escape, he took it. Without one word to his parents or siblings or the guests whose company he was meant to keep, Jack left the church and made for the nearest inn.
Which was where Edward found him ten minutes later.
“What’s with you?” he asked once he’d dropped into the chair opposite Jack’s. He gestured for a serving maid to bring another pint of beer. “You’re not really known for your foul moods so why the nasty glower?”
Jack flattened his mouth and did his best to ease the tension putting his body on edge. “It’s just a short spell of irritation. Nothing that won’t sort itself out in time.” He took a sip of his beer and savored the freshness. Edward’s tankard arrived and he too took a swig.
“You’ve also never been much of a liar.” Edward folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “If I were to guess, I’d say you’re starting to realize you want something that won’t be as easy for you to win as a game of cards or a curricle race.”
“Leave it be, Edward. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I just might have to insist when it concerns me directly.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not blind, Jack, and I’ve known you long enough to have a sense of how your mind works.”
Jack snorted in attempt to hide his rising dread. “I doubt that.”
“All right. Let’s put my belief to the test, shall we?” When Jack shrugged, Edward said, “Growing up, you and Sophia were always thick as thieves. She may have been five years younger than us, but her interests always seemed to align with yours. I was the sensible one – the bore, if you will – who always chose to sit quietly with Felicity and Kaitlin while you and Sophia chased each other all over creation. As time went by, Sophia got older. She grew up and transformed, and as she did so, you started seeing her in a new light.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No?” Edward gave him a, don’t-take-me-for-a-fool sort of look. “I saw your expression when I escorted her to her first assembly hall dance four years ago. Your eyes lit up, amazement took over, and for the rest of the evening you could not tear your gaze away from her. You danced two sets and then, the very next day, you were gone, as if something had frightened the hell out of you. Perhaps the realization that you were in love with someone you didn’t think you could marry?”
“She was but eighteen years of age,” Jack snapped as the final thread of his frayed control slipped between his fingers. “It would have been wrong to pursue her. It still is, damn it. She’s meant to marry you!”
