Daybreak|| Jasper Hale {1}

Chapter Twelve

August 1861

"It would be wonderful to have you as a part of the family, even if it meant you'd have to marry my brother. We'd finally be real sisters!" Charlotte practically squealed, grabbing my hands in her own as I tried to stabilize myself. It would be lovely to finally have that connection to Charlotte, but at the expense of marrying someone I didn't love? I wasn't sure if it would be worth it, even for her. And yet my mind kept trailing back to the thought, flip flopping much like my restless stomach was.

"Think of it Anne, we can raise our children together and you'd never have to worry again. Of course I'd rather marry you myself than see you with that rat, but it couldn't be so bad, could it?" Charlotte continued to prattle on, her big blue eyes practically begging me to consider.

"I suppose it wouldn't be." I finally spoke, and Charlotte was practically jumping for joy, taking my reluctant agreement as a yes. It was, in a way.

This was the best option I'd be given, and I almost smiled thinking about never having to say goodbye to Charlotte. Almost. Charlotte dragged me back downstairs in an excited haze, announcing my agreement to her mother, and I nodded with a weak smile to confirm.

"I'd love to marry Henry." I said numbly, and Charlotte wrapped me up in a large hug. "I'm sorry for being so rude, I just hadn't expected the notion to be sprung on me so early into tea. But as long as he'd have me..." I trailed off, trying to hide the distaste behind my eyes.

I didn't think I'd ever love Henry, with his judgmental eyes and his harsh tongue, but to please my father, to have my friend beside me, to live in comfort, it would do. It was just a surprise it had taken this long.

  A sad surprise, because not a week ago I had found myself being drawn in by the only man who had ever managed to captivate me. Yes, it was a sad surprise, this engagement.

"Henry will be thrilled." Ms.Livingston said proudly, and she almost immediately jumped into planning, reminding me that nothing would be official until Henry proposed.

Ms.Livingston sent for Henry, sending one of her servants to get him as I sat back down and resumed the drinking of my tea.

As Henry descended the stairs I knew I had no right to complain. He was quite attractive, his dark hair pulled into a low ponytail and his jaw angular. Perhaps his harsh manner was just due to our lack of interactions. After all, he was being raised to run the plantation, while Charlotte was free to do whatever she wished as long as she found a husband.

"Leanne said yes." Ms.Livingston announced, and Henry's face broke into an attractive grin as he bounded over to me, sharing the same excitement as his mother and sister. I'd never seen him smile before.

  He was smiling at me like I was his savior, an angel sent down from heaven to save him from some unknown malady.

  I stiffened as he moved to hug me, sitting erect in my chair. "Thank you so much." He repeated several times over, and I was confused. "You don't know how much I need this." he said as my hands came to rest on his back, offering him an awkward pat, before he stood back up and composed himself, moving to retrieve the cane he had left by the stairs in his excitement.

"Sorry mother." He said, turning to Caroline who was absolutely beaming, and Charlotte made a face at me. "I'm just so excited to have such a lovely bride."

I began trying to pick apart his actions . Why was he so excited that I'd said yes? Why was he happier than I'd ever seen him before? Why did he need me? I knew he wasn't in love with me, nor was he attracted to me. I'd knew the look of lust well, seeing it directed at my closest friend so often. He wouldn't need me if he simply lusted me anyways, and though my mind was working a million miles a minute I couldn't figure it out with the small amount of information I had.

Henry Livingston was a puzzle. A puzzle that I'd likely have a lifetime to unravel, due to my own decisions, but a puzzle nonetheless.

It was unnerving to see him lose the harshness I'd always associated with him. He almost looked like Charlotte when he smiled. The only difference was that the smile didn't make a home for itself on his face as it had hers.

  The Livingstons kept me over well past dark, planning numerous details of my courtship with Henry, as well as giving me a few gifts for my birthday, which I'd all but forgotten about.

  They sent me home in one of their carriages, which I was grateful for.

When I arrived home there was a letter waiting for me, and I fetched the letter opener quickly, the first genuine smile in hours splitting across my face as I practically devoured the letter.

Though you barely have left my side I have found myself compelled to sit down and write you, though I must apologize if nothing I write is legible, as my desk has already been dismantled. The cover of a book and my knee are the only leverage I have, so for all I know these could be private musings yet.

I must tell you,  my cheek still burns from the kiss you pressed upon it. Though it is improper to say so I must admit that my thoughts have yet to stray from you since the moment you ran away from me. Many of my soldiers have been taken by your minx of a companion and I feel as if your cheeks would burn in the same fashion as mine if you were to hear what they say of her. Though I would never burden you with that. Bad enough that I have to hear it for myself.

I myself have to admit that I never saw her charm. Though I've been similarly taken by you in our short acquaintanceship, so I suppose I'm just as bad as the rest of them. At least when it comes to you, I sincerely doubt you realize the power you hold over men. Your friend seems to revel in it, yet you have no clue what you've done.

I, in specific feel as though you have me under a spell, and if I wasn't so sure of your good and righteous nature I'd call you a witch for how quickly you convinced me to fall for you.

I feel as if I'm able to tell you things, as you've probably realized from my willingness to tell you my age, and I fear that that is a dangerous fact that will get even more dangerous as our communication changes to I written, so I must warn you now: I am by no means a model of propriety.

I'd say most of my actions tend to skirt the line of acceptable and not, and this letter is one of those actions.

I lament the fact that I was unable to know you better, though I hope that letters will be enough to suffice for the time being, though I long to see your face again, and know that the longing will become more intense once I have left. Foolish, right?

As I said though, our goodbyes haven't been spoken yet.

  I've forgotten now if that reassurance was meant for my ears or yours.

Jasper