Deceived

by Jess Michaels

  She trailed off, for she had no idea what to say on the subject of him, especially to her mother. What they shared was not at all appropriate.

  “He seems to care for you,” Mrs. Westfall said slowly, almost carefully, like she feared the response.

  Josie flitted her gaze to her mother and found her looking expectant. “You can stop looking like a cat who has finally cornered an elusive mouse. There is…there is nothing between us. I will still likely die a disappointing spinster.”

  “That is the second time you have claimed I am disappointed in you,” her mother said, moving closer and cupping her cheeks. “And I am not. Josie, you are unique. You are lovely. You are kind. Do I want you to find happiness with a husband and home and family of your own? Of course, but because I think you would be content in that life. But I could never be disappointed in you.”

  Josie blinked at the sudden tears in her eyes. “You couldn’t?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “Then why push me so hard in the marriage mart?” Josie asked.

  Mrs. Westfall wiped a tear from her cheek. “Because I feared if you weren’t pushed a little, you wouldn’t even give another option a chance.”

  Josie considered that. Her mother was right, of course. If she had been left to her own devices, she likely never would have come out at all. She would have stayed in her room with her books and only gone out when Claire dragged her away.

  “Now may we briefly return to the subject of Evan?” Mrs. Westfall said softly.

  Josie paced away. “There is nothing to say on that subject,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “People were talking when he defended you, when you two disappeared together for so long, Josie,” her mother said. “And now I must ask you, you say there is nothing between you, but is that true? Is there something going on that I should know about?”

  Josie caught her breath. She could dance around the truth. That was something she had taught herself to do quite well over the years. But right now her mother was asking her a pointblank question. And lying outright was not as easy.

  She turned slowly and found her mother standing by, waiting, her arms folded and a look on her face that did not allow for lies.

  Josie worried her lower lip, trying to find words, explanations, some way out of this conversation.

  “I—” she began.

  But before she had to finish that sentence, there was another knock at her door and then her maid, Nell, popped her head into the room.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” the young woman said with a deferent nod to Mrs. Westfall. “But you have a visitor, Miss Jocelyn.”

  Josie wrinkled her brow. “A visitor?” she repeated.

  Nell nodded. “Yes, miss. Lord Evan Hartwell is here.”

  Josie took a long step back, as if putting space between herself and her maid would make the truth disappear. “I—tell him no, tell him—”

  Mrs. Westfall frowned. “Nell, you will tell the gentleman nothing. We will be down in a moment.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nell said with an odd look for Josie before she left the room and Josie and her mother were alone again.

  “Mama,” Josie began.

  But her mother held up a hand. “Jocelyn Westfall, between your refusal or inability to answer a simple question about Evan and this desire to avoid him, it is clear something is between you two. You will go and see him.”

  Josie could hardly catch her breath. She shook her head. “Please don’t make me.”

  “Oh, darling. Hiding from whatever it is you feel or whatever it is you’ve done will do no good. Trust me. Your heart will follow you wherever you go. So you might as well put your chin up and face that young man. Now.”

  Josie had a strange and powerful urge to revert back to childhood. To throw herself onto the rug, dig her heels in and refuse. But that had never worked as a girl, and from her mother’s stern expression now, she could see it wouldn’t work any better.

  She was going to have to face Evan. And she had no idea what to do or say once she saw him.

  Evan paced the parlor where he had been sent to wait for Josie. How long had he been waiting? It seemed like an eternity. Would she not see him? Was that how far she was willing to take this refusal to be his bride?

  God, he would have to push past servants and barge into her chamber. In the worst case scenario, he might even have to admit to her mother that he had seduced her. Together they would force Josie to see reason.

  Only, as he paced across the room one more time, it wasn’t reason that made his mind spin. No, it was something else. Honor might have brought him here, but when he pictured Josie as his bride, it went beyond that. To have her by his side forever? To be able to do what they’d done at the ball the night before, but do it slowly? Over and over?

  That sounded like pure perfection.

  The door behind him opened and he spun to face the intruders. He tried not to frown as Mrs. Westfall entered the room. She smiled at him, then looked over her shoulder at the empty doorway.

  “Oh, great God,” she muttered. She stepped into the hallway and dragged Josie into the room. She gave her daughter a look of exasperation as she shoved her forward, then smiled at him again. “Good morning, my lord,” she said. “What a wonderful surprise to have you call on us. Isn’t it, Josie?”

  Evan arched a brow. Josie did not look wonderfully surprised. She looked pale, drawn and perhaps a little nauseated. He almost wanted to laugh at the way she glared daggers into him, like he had ruined some plan of hers.

  But when he thought of how her plan was to avoid a future together, he couldn’t laugh. There was nothing funny about the fact she would run away.

  He couldn’t let her do it. He looked at her mother and realized he had an ally in Mrs. Westfall.

  “I’m very happy to be here,” he said, choosing to address only Josie’s mother.

  “Please sit,” Mrs. Westfall said, motioning to a chair as she all but dragged Josie forward. “Would you like some refreshment?”

  “No,” he said, shooting a side glance at Josie. She was glaring back. He smiled at her. “I am fine, thank you kindly. I think it would be best to simply get down to the reason for my coming here straight away.”

  Mrs. Westfall sat on the settee, pulling her daughter down beside her. Josie folded her arms. Of course, that only served to push her breasts up just a fraction and whet his appetite for them all the more. How could she have ever thought her curves to be a mark against her? He adored them.

  “And what is that?” her mother asked brightly, drawing his attention away.

  “I have come here, Mrs. Westfall, in order to ask a very important question.”

  Josie sat up straight and jerked her gaze to her mother, then back to him. She leaned forward, her eyes wide and her cheeks pale. He saw her fears and her panic there, but also a tiny flicker of something else. Right there, plain as anything, was the connection between them that had only grown in the past few weeks.

  That connection that made this far more than just an act of honor.

  “Oh, please don’t,” she whispered.

  He met her stare evenly. “Josie, it’s all right.”

  “Please don’t do this,” she repeated.

  He frowned at her desperation. He had created that in her. And he hoped to take it away soon enough. But for now he had to focus on matters at hand. He smiled at Mrs. Westfall, who was staring between them as if they were crazy.

  “I have come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, Mrs. Westfall,” he said. “I would like to take Josie as my bride.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The world felt like it was spinning and Josie couldn’t make it stop. She stared at Evan, watched him mouth those words. I would like to take Josie as my bride. It was a dream. It was a nightmare. It was both.

  Mrs. Westfall leapt up and the spell was broken. Reality crashed in as her mother clapped her hands together.

  “Oh my!” she gasped.
<
br />   Evan rose too, leaving Josie the only one who couldn’t find the strength in her legs to move. She could only watch them, an observer in her life. But then, she always had been, hadn’t she? Allowing others to dictate how she behaved or felt.

  “Yes,” Evan said, but he was watching her.

  “This is so unexpected,” Mrs. Westfall breathed. “I knew you and Josie were spending a great deal of time together since our arrival, but I did not guess you were becoming so close that marriage was becoming a possibility. I just—”

  Mrs. Westfall looked down at Josie as she spoke and suddenly her words trailed off. She stared at Josie, saw her collapsed back on the settee, and a shadow crossed her face.

  Mrs. Westfall straightened up a bit and turned her attention back to Evan. “You know, my lord, I realize my daughter has said nothing in regards to your proposal. And in the end, it is her choice.”

  Josie slowly stood up, shocked that her mother would say such a thing and not simply rush her into the wedding Mrs. Westfall had always dreamed of for her.

  “Mama?” she whispered.

  Her mother reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. “If you have come here, Lord Evan, to obtain my permission to ask for my daughter’s hand, of course I grant you that. You come from a good family, a family that has been a friend to ours for years. I know you to be an honorable and decent person.”

  At those words, Evan shifted and Josie saw his guilt. The guilt that reminded her why he was doing this in the first place. Her heart sank.

  “But my permission and my daughter’s are very different,” Mrs. Westfall continued. “So I will leave you now so that you two may discuss this in private.”

  Josie’s lips parted and as Mrs. Westfall moved toward the door, she followed.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  Her mother smiled at her. “No more pushing, Josie, I promise you,” she said as she touched her daughter’s cheek. “But perhaps you could make me a promise as well.”

  “What is that?” Josie asked, her voice trembling just as her hands were. Just as her heart seemed to be.

  “No more running, either.” Then Mrs. Westfall smiled and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  Josie stood, her back to Evan, staring at that shut door for what seemed like an eternity. It must have seemed the same to him, for finally he cleared his throat.

  “Josie, won’t you look at me?”

  She fisted her hands at her sides. When his voice was so gentle, it made her forget why she was refusing his proposal. But she had to remember. She had to.

  She turned and hoped there was steel in her expression as she folded her arms. “You should not have done that in front of my mother.”

  “It was a dirty trick, I know,” he admitted. “I would say I was sorry, but the fact is that when I saw your face, I realized we were at war. And I needed an ally. What I did was an act of desperation.”

  She pursed her lips. “We are not at war, Evan,” she said softly, but the words seemed hollow. Hadn’t they always been at war, in a way? As children, as lovers, and now.

  “It didn’t work at any rate,” he said. “She took your side. But then, I suppose I should have expected it. Your mother loves you.”

  Josie shifted. “Yes. She does. I saw that in a whole new way this morning.”

  He nodded, though he couldn’t understand. It was just Evan believing his charmed life was everyone’s. He had no idea how her world had been all but set upon its head by her mother’s sudden acceptance of Josie’s decisions.

  “Josie,” Evan said softly, and he took a long step toward her. He was still five feet away, but it was already too close. She didn’t want to feel his heat or smell his skin or be seduced by his touch.

  Well, she did want all those things. But she couldn’t give into him now when he was demanding something so permanent.

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  “You keep saying that, but you can’t run from this now,” Evan replied, his tone still dangerously gentle and kind. “We must face this. We must marry.”

  Her stomach dropped. “Must marry,” she repeated. “There goes your honor again, Evan, dragging you into things you don’t want.” She heard how hard her tone was but wished it was even stonier. “And my answer is the same as it was when you offered to ‘save’ me last night. I won’t marry you. Not like this. I wanted what happened between us in that parlor and I will not change it or be forced into misery with you because you have some desire to flagellate yourself over it.”

  She paced to the window, but behind her she heard Evan sigh heavily. She wanted to face him. God, she wanted to comfort him. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  “Last night I didn’t do this the right way,” he said slowly. “And I seem to be making a muck of this today as well. So let me try again. Josie, this proposal is not about self-flagellation. It isn’t about honor.”

  She spun on him with a snort of derision and he smiled ever so slightly.

  “It isn’t only about honor—is that more correct?”

  She blinked. “I don’t know. Isn’t it only about honor? That you want to save me from what we did? That you want to prove to yourself that you aren’t some bastard who claims virgins and then leaves them?”

  “I don’t come off well in that description,” he muttered.

  In that moment, that charged, desperate moment, she actually wanted to laugh at his quip. Instead she shook her head. “God, you are so self-assured. You think if you are funny or charming, I’ll fall over myself to be yours. Well, you can’t tease your way out of this.”

  “And you can’t run your way out,” he retorted swiftly.

  He moved on her again, and now the distance between them was only three feet. Three short strides and she could be in his arms. She could simply accept what he offered and ignore that he didn’t want to offer it. She could pretend her way into this marriage.

  But would she be happy? Could she be if she looked into his eyes every day and saw…resignation?

  “I won’t be your trap,” Josie said.

  He met her stare and his expression softened. “You won’t be,” he said. He cleared his throat. “I have always been better at sarcasm than truth, I fear. A mechanism to protect myself, Audrey and Claire would say. So it is not natural to me to speak what is in my heart. But I’m going to try and I hope you will forgive me if it isn’t perfect.”

  Josie froze. What was he talking about? What was he doing?

  “Jocelyn Westfall, from the moment you returned to the shire and I saw you at my sister’s wedding, I have been…captivated.” He frowned. “You must understand I did not want to be captivated. You were Claire’s friend as a child and you made me feel guilty about being an ass toward you when we were young. But nevertheless, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  Josie shook her head. “I—”

  “Please, let me finish.” When she shut her mouth, he continued, “The first time I kissed you in the orangery, I knew I was lost. I wanted to kiss you all the time, I wanted to do more than just kiss you. It was very confusing since we hadn’t exactly gotten along. And considering the fact that you are a lady and my entire life I have been told not to feel such things for ladies, or at least not to act on those feelings.”

  “But you did,” she whispered. “We did.”

  He nodded, and there was a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. “Oh yes, we most certainly did. And it was wonderful, Josie. But never enough. Nothing was ever enough with you. I touched you, I wanted that touch to be more intimate. I held you, I wanted to hold you even longer. And that was wrong. But I did it anyway.”

  She swallowed hard. His words were so sweet, so gentle, so romantic that she could hardly breathe or think or respond. Yet she knew she must.

  “But—but why did you do it?” she asked, needing to hear that answer. Needing to know what had driven him as much as she needed breath or light or peace.

  He locked eyes with h
er, the dark brown holding her hostage without even a flicker of hesitation. “Because I wanted you. And here is the part that may make you hate me.”

  She caught her breath. Hate him? “What part?”

  He cleared his throat. “I could have said no to you last night when you wanted to make love in the parlor. I could have pleasured you in some other way. Or set you aside and ended this affair as I should have many times. But I didn’t, Josie. Now, part of that was because the passion between us addled my mind. My body wanted what it wanted and that powerful need overrode reason. But another part was also there. I took you because in some way I wanted it to come to this.”

  “This?” she asked.

  “This moment where I am standing before you, asking you to marry me, Josie.”

  He moved forward again at last and Josie almost sagged with relief as he reached for her hand. When he took it, warmth spread between them, up her arm, over her body. It was the heat of her desire, yes, but it was also the warm comfort of home. Of everything she had ever wanted and feared she’d never have.

  It was, she realized in a flash, the undeniable embrace of love. She loved him.

  With a gasp, she looked up into his face. His handsome, angular face. She loved everything about it, from the soulful depths of his brown eyes to the dimple that popped in his cheek whenever he laughed. She loved him.

  Which was as terrifying as it was wonderful. And yet she wasn’t afraid. She was calm and accepting of that feeling. As if it had always been a part of her, even if she hadn’t fully recognized it.

  She swallowed because she knew he was awaiting some kind of response. Slowly, she recalled how to form words and said, “You think you wanted to trap yourself?”

  He shook his head. “Not trap. Please stop saying trap, for it implies I’m unhappy to be here. What I’m saying is that somewhere deep inside of me, I wanted this, Josie. I made it happen through my actions. And I’m not sorry.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss to her knuckles. She shivered at the gentleness of the caress, the way he held her gaze while he did it.