by Lynda Hurst
Devlin was enraged on Margaret’s behalf, but every inch of Jackson was poised to kill at Margaret’s disclosure. Both men would have forgotten themselves if it weren’t for the three ladies present before them, and they collected themselves only after counting silently to ten.
Devlin spoke first, “Margaret, I can’t have you the victim here in a mess of my own doing. As head of this family, I have to do what I can to protect you. I fear that will mean you will have to curtail any of your activities outside this house.”
Margaret shot to her feet in indignation. “Devlin, you can’t mean to keep me a prisoner in my own home! I have my work to consider, and you know my collaboration with Mr. Mensforth is of utmost importance to the Artemis clue.”
Devlin did not budge on his stance. “I cannot protect you if I cannot see you. Already, Revelstoke has proved he’s been watching you, knowing where you will appear next. Who knows what his next move will be where you’re concerned, and I cannot have you in danger from him.” The agitation in his voice was evident with its gradual increase in volume.
Margaret’s look at her brother told him she was ready to shoot daggers at him. She angrily shouted, “You boor! I can’t have my life stopped on its axis just because of some idle threats from your brother-in-law! I won’t have it!”
Faith stood from the settee to intercept the arguing siblings. “Calm yourselves, you two. Any louder and you’ll have Grayson waking to see what is the matter. Now, both of you sit yourselves down and we can come up with a compromise that both of you can agree upon.”
At the mention of the little boy sleeping upstairs in the nursery, Devlin and Margaret composed themselves and sat at opposite ends of the room, facing each other, but still fuming.
Jackson took a seat next to Margaret, who barely noticed his nearness. He had been about to offer to squire her about the town if it was needed, but the argument had gotten too heated for him to bring it up.
With the both of them silent, Faith said, “Before we cause any inconvenience to Margaret and her work, why don’t we find out from Frederick himself what his true goal is when he comes to call tomorrow.”
Devlin sighed heavily. To Faith, he said, “As much as I am to blame for his present state as a penniless earl, he has every right to see you without me present. But I am not so unreasonable not to hear what he has to say about his future intentions.”
Margaret joined in with, “I, for one, would also like to hear what is behind those veiled comments of his.”
Jackson barely refrained from asking what those veiled comments were, but was grateful that it was Devlin instead who brought up the question. “And what comments are those?” Devlin directed at Margaret.
She vaguely said, “Ones that I never took seriously as he has only ever gone on and on about revenge. That’s all I’ll say about them.” Understanding that Frederick’s comments may have been of an overtly sensual nature, no one else made further comments.
“Although, I almost feel like all of our encounters until now have been calculated on his part to bring us to this point,” admitted Margaret.
“How so?” Devlin inquired.
“It’s nothing concrete, but I get the feeling that none of our meetings were by chance at all. The only genuine things I’ve sensed from him were his need for his revenge and his happiness at seeing Faith for the first time in years. His flirtatious teasing seemed very contrived to me, not sincere at all.”
Faith quietly inferred, “Coldly calculating and manipulative, just like our father had been. What confuses me the most is this sudden appearance of affection. We have never had that kind of relationship, like the one I’ve observed with Jackson and Mary, and with you and Devlin. That’s what I am most curious about and am eager to know what has given him this change of heart.”
Looking lovingly at his wife of two years, Devlin replied, “Knowing your character, my love, it would be hard not to love you. It had always boggled my mind that you grew up the woman you are amidst that house devoid of a family’s natural affection for each other.”
Jackson and Mary, who were Faith’s haven from her horrid home life during those years, were well acquainted with the root cause of the Revelstoke’s household’s lack of familial love and loyalty. And he had been dead and gone only eight years hence.
Before the room could deteriorate further into a more somber mood, Devlin concluded, “Margaret, we will see first what Frederick will tell us tomorrow before I subject you to my overprotective instincts. Will that please you?”
Margaret acquiesced, “Yes, I am agreeable to that.”
Jackson offered, “And if she finds she needs an escort about town, I can offer my services.”
Margaret raised her brows at him in mild astonishment. “That won’t be necessary—”
He cut her off quietly with, “Please allow me to play your knight errant in this, Margaret.” And in a lower tone, so the rest of the room couldn’t overhear, he said, “It will appease your brother somewhat, and you would still be able to come and go like before if you have me accompanying you.”
For Margaret, it wasn’t so much that she didn’t appreciate his offer as much as it was that her plan to avoid Jackson would be completely thwarted by his proposed solution. How could she seriously consider Jeffrey’s suit with Jackson constantly about?
“Excellent idea,” boomed Devlin as he rose to a stand and everyone followed suit. “If you will excuse us, I do believe we are being called to do our parental duty.” The pattering of bare feet that sounded louder in its approach towards the sitting room signaled what Devlin was referring to, and the owner of said feet presented a wide-eyed Grayson standing before them, looking on at all of the adults present.
The tousle-headed child ran headlong towards his father, yelling, “Papa!” and was deftly swung up in Devlin’s arms where his higher perch allowed him to survey everyone. Faith drew nearer to the father and son, and mildly scolded the little boy while gently ruffling his hair, “You scamp! What are you doing out of bed?”
“Auntie Meg! Papa! Loud!” he cried, looking happy that he could communicate with what words he knew that best answered his mother’s question.
Faith gave Devlin a look that very much said “I told you so”, to which Devlin shrugged and snuggled Grayson closer. “Like I was saying,” Devlin continued on, “this young man must be brought straight back to the nursery. Say goodnight to everyone, Grayson.”
“Good night!” the little boy crowed. “Auntie Meg, good night! Unca Jack, good night! Auntie Mawwy, good night!” A chorus of good nights sounded from the other three adults, as Devlin and Faith left to put Grayson back to bed.
Jackson turned to Mary, and said, “You go on into the carriage. I need to speak with Margaret alone for a moment.”
Mary said impassively, “All right, don’t be too long. The hour is late, after all.” Jackson knew his twin hinted at a warning directed at him not to overstep the boundaries of propriety. He cheekily winked at her in acknowledgment of her warning, and she turned to exit out the front door and into their awaiting coach.
Margaret, now faced with being alone with Jackson, struggled to gather her wits about her, wondering what it was Jackson wanted to speak to her about.
With Mary gone, Jackson rounded on Margaret so swiftly, his stride earnest and full of purpose. He stood facing Margaret, ever so much closer than her rapidly beating heart could withstand.
Looking up at him, she was consumed by the look in his eyes, full of an emotion she couldn’t name. If she had to describe it, she could say that his eyes were burning with tiny flames flickering in their depths. Heat infused her as she watched those eyes sweeping over her face. “Jackson, what is it you—”
She was cut off mid-sentence as Jackson swooped in to claim her mouth with his in a kiss so overwhelming, she was momentarily stunned. His arms banded about her, drawing her further into his embrace and sheltering her with his warmth. His lips sought hers, seeking a response from her, and she be
latedly replied by fully participating in the kiss, emitting a small moan at the feelings he drew from her.
At her moan, Jackson broke away to whisper, “Ah, Margaret, you are killing me. Your lips are the sweetest confection I have ever tasted.” And he proceeded to set her alight again with his maddening kisses.
Her heart soared at his attentive kisses and his gentle touch, but her head was frantically trying to make sense of how this could actually be happening. In her wildest dreams, she would never have thought Jackson would be so demanding in his kisses nor would she have thought that he would suddenly be interested in her enough to warrant kissing her. And that thought alone doused her happiness of the moment, bringing her back to a semblance of rationality.
Pulling back from the kiss, Margaret looked at him questioningly. “I don’t understand. Why did you kiss me?” Stepping back to put distance between them, she awaited his answer.
Looking at her now, he felt possessive as he observed her kiss-swollen lips, and gloried in the knowledge that he was the cause for their condition. If Mary weren’t waiting for him, he would be showering Margaret with more kisses.
He answered, “Because I wanted to.” And tried to reach for her again, but she shied away.
“But Jeffrey, and Lady Celia. Haven’t you given any thought to them?”
“How can I, when you tempt me beyond all reason?”
Unable to believe him, she shook her head. “No, maybe two years ago, I would have been happy to hear that. But I have Jeffrey and he—”
Cutting her off once again, but this time with his impassioned words, “He what? Does he make you burn with his kisses the way I made you feel with mine? I have never felt such a response, and I would very much want to be the only one to make you feel that way.”
Incredulous, Margaret said, “What are you saying? I’m just as good as promised to Jeffrey!”
He growled, “Not if you can kiss me like that. After that kiss, there is no way I can let you go to him, now that you know I can no longer fight these feelings I have for you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes then, shocking him. She whimpered, “Why now, Jackson? I’m not like Lady Celia who could help you build a perfect life as your wife. I’ve always thought you disliked me when we were younger, but I resigned myself to accepting that fact only recently. Because of Faith and Devlin, I thought you accepted me as a sister-in-law of sorts, and I was all right with that.”
She continued, “I have been seriously considering Jeffrey not because he’s my grand passion, but because I know there’s no chance of having my heart trampled by him. Whereas you, you—” she stopped as a sob escaped from her throat.
“I what, Margaret? I could break your heart? The only way I could do that is if I had yours to begin with.” Her earnest look and her silence told him volumes of what it was she did feel for him, and his heart leaped. Hope blossomed in him at the thought. “Then it’s so simple, really. We can—”
“No, Jackson,” she said gently.
“No? Why?”
“I gave my word that Jeffrey would have my answer to his proposal towards the end of Faith’s country house party. I cannot go back on my promise to him.”
“Then I can wait until after you speak with him. It isn’t too late for us,” he pleaded, hoping that the depth of his feelings was enough to sway her decision to choose him. “Sweetheart, you have to know what it does to me to see you with other men. As I’ve proved tonight and earlier this morning, the sight of you with Revelstoke and Collingwood had me losing all sense and wit about me. Can’t you see? I need you to quell this madness in me.”
Shaking her head at him with a wry chuckle, she couldn’t believe his audacity. Margaret replied in a voice dripping in sarcasm, “Madness, is it? Well, I must inform you that this madness you must be suffering from is nothing compared to what I had felt for you over the years that you completely ignored me! And now that you decide that you do want me, I am now out of your reach. You cannot dictate who I choose in my future just because you say so!”
Incredulous, Jackson was taken aback by the anger radiating from her petite frame. He assumed wrongly that all women would swoon at a heartfelt declaration of love, and that Margaret would be no different. Apparently, the woman before him would not be easily convinced of the truth of his feelings, not right away, at any rate. Retreat seemed to be his best option, and after a better-planned strategy, he would come to her again to persuade her to see him as the only one for her.
Ducking his head in apology, he quietly said, “I am sorry I have blundered in the past and did not instantly recognize the beautiful woman who had been in front of me all this time. I failed to truly see you, and it took other men clamoring for your attention to make me sit up and take notice.”
Still seething, Margaret could only nod in reply to his apology; even when his apology seemed paltry to her measured against the agonizing years of seeing him happier without her by his side. Jeffrey would never have subjected her to such negligence, and she was glad she was giving him careful consideration. After Jackson’s blunder tonight, despite his drugging kisses, Jeffrey seemed to her the more attractive and practical option in her choice of husband. There was less chance of her heart being wounded worse with him, specifically when she held back her heart from the poor man.
“Jackson,” she uttered quietly. “Your sister is waiting.”
Knowing he was being dismissed, Jackson nodded. But he couldn’t leave without letting her know he wasn’t planning on giving up on her, on them, so easily.
“Margaret, I will be back to call tomorrow. No matter your feelings for me now, I will be present when Revelstoke arrives to say his piece. He has to know that he can no longer use you as a pawn, not with Devlin and me backing you.”
Sighing, Margaret knew it wasn’t going to be easy to put her feelings for Jackson in the past where he belonged. “I appreciate the sentiment, Jackson. Truly, I do. I am just not sure it’s entirely necessary.”
“Good night, then. Until tomorrow,” he said. Donning his hat, he tipped it to her then left through the front door.
“Good night,” she said, to his retreating back, shutting the door behind him. Slumping with her back against the door, she heaved a deep sigh, as a physical means for alleviating her overflowing heart. With her thoughts running rampant with everything that passed between them, she had a few admissions to make to herself.
Firstly, the part of her that was still very much in love with Jackson exulted at his fervent confession. Although it wasn’t an outright confession of love, she knew that whatever he felt was strong enough to merit him losing control and kissing her witless.
Secondly, as a woman who honored her promises and the course she had set for herself, she had to think logically about her future. And Jeffrey represented everything sensible and good; a future with him would involve the least amount of heartache because neither of them were investing feelings into the relationship. Instead, their union would be based on real companionship and high regard for each other.
In the eyes of the ton, matching her with Jeffrey could not be improved upon, with the exception of marrying actual royalty. Theirs would be the match of the year: a duke’s daughter brought together with a future duke.
However, her academic, analytical mind forced her to see both sides of her future with Jeffrey. Doubt creeped in, reminding her that happiness in any situation was fragile enough to be broken by mistrust and secrets. Was it really fair of her to not share her heart with Jeffrey, especially since another man already filled every corner of it? Would Jeffrey eventually want to lay claim to her heart?
With all of these uncertainties plaguing her, Margaret felt even more resolve to try and forget Jackson, knowing that giving him even an inch of her thoughts would only result in more anguish.
18
Ellesmere Townhouse—The Next Morning
For the second time in two days, Jackson awoke from a short bout of sleep, having been kept up by his restless thou
ghts. However, this time, thoughts of Margaret and the kisses they had shared had warred with his need to sleep, and he had found pleasure reliving the memory of her sweet lips again and again.
He also could not fail to forget the look his sister Mary had launched his way when he slipped into their carriage. Her eyes had danced with mirth as she shot him a knowing look as she had said, “When I said for you not to be too long, you must not have heard me. I’ve been kept waiting for what seemed like ages.”
Mortified that he had forgotten the time and any thought to Mary, he calmed somewhat after he had realized she was teasing. He had snorted in reply, “It can’t have been more than a quarter of an hour since then, Imp.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t that long, but I was anxious to get back home to the comfort of my nice, warm bed. This carriage for all of its plush comfort isn’t conducive to a good night’s rest after a night at a ball,” she said. “I gather you and Margaret had plenty to say to each other in the time allotted?”