"I'm glad you finally agreed to see me."
Jessica smiled at Ravenscroft sitting next to her in the open carriage as they took a ride around the estate. "I am glad too."
It was true. She enjoyed the viscount's company, even if she'd declined to see him the past fortnight. There had just been some other... issues, taking up most of her thoughts. But there was a limit to how much time one could spend alone in one's room, and she had reached hers, so when Ravenscroft had appeared again that morning to call on her she had accepted his offer of a carriage ride about the countryside.
Nathaniel had returned from London a few days ago. He'd admitted to not killing his friend, but claimed he would if they weren't married within a month. Other than that, he refused to expound on the details of the two men's conversation. She wasn't happy about the situation, but she also realised she had little choice. She had sealed her fate the moment she accepted Jacob into her bed.
"Lady Jessica?"
The soft inquiry brought her back to the present, and she gave her companion a slightly embarrassed smile. "I beg your pardon, Lord Ravenscroft. I fear I was woolgathering."
He smiled back at her, reminding her of what a handsome man he was. "I was merely asking if you are feeling better now. Last time I came to call, they told me you were not well."
"Oh yes. I am quite better, thank you." She had been having morning sickness the last time he came calling, but she wasn't about to admit that. It had recently started, and she hoped it would not continue for too long. Angel had suffered the same during her pregnancy and it had all but disappeared by the fourth month.
"I have quite missed our morning rides," he told her.
"Me too," she admitted.
They were both silent for a moment, and she got the impression he wanted to tell her something but didn't quite know how. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to her on the seat. He looked so earnest and hopeful that she felt her heart leap into her throat. Surely he couldn't be thinking to...?
"Lady Jessica," he said fervently. "I am certain that this can come as no surprise, as we have become quite well-acquainted these past few weeks..."
She raised her hand. "Lord Ravenscroft, please say no more."
"Oh, but I must! But you are correct, of course, a carriage is not the place." Before she could say anything, he stopped the carriage and jumped down. Looking around, she saw they were in the extensive rose garden by Davenhall and could only groan inwardly as he came around the vehicle to assist her down. She had to hear him out, or she would be terribly rude, and she didn't want him to think she didn't appreciate him.
They walked together between the rose hedges in silence, her hand on his arm. When they reached a stone bench, they sat down and Ravenscroft turned to face her again. His brown eyes warm and appreciative as he looked down at her.
"Lady Jessica," he began again, taking her hands in his. "When I first met you I was struck by your beauty, but as I have come to know you I have realised that this pretty face is accompanied by a keen mind and good sense as well. I was hoping—" He stopped for a moment, as if trying to gather some courage. "I hoped you would consider becoming my wife."
"Oh, Lord Ravenscroft. I am very flattered by your offer." And it was tempting, very much so. A marriage with Ravenscroft would be relaxed and pleasant, they would hardly ever argue and he would treat her well. But it was not a possibility in her current situation. She sighed. "Unfortunately, I cannot accept."
His face fell. "I beg your pardon, Lady Jessica. I should not have forced my hopes on you."
"No, it's not that." She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "There are circumstances that make me unable to accept your proposal."
"I realise, of course, that you can do better than a viscount," he said. "You are a beautiful young woman, and the daughter of a marquess. I am certain you can choose your husband well. I was a fool to think I could ask for your hand."
"Oh no, please don't say that," she quickly said, taking his hand again. "It really is not you. If circumstances had been different, I would have been happy to become your wife. But as things currently stand, I simply cannot."
He frowned a little. "I fear I do not understand."
She took a deep breath, deciding to tell him the truth. She felt she owed him that, and she had faith that he would not betray her confidence. Had things been different, she could see herself having accepted his proposal. She would never have been as attracted to him as she had always been to Jacob, but a marriage between them would have been pleasant enough and they would have had a decent life together. "I am ruined," she announced, trying to gauge his reaction, "and you deserve an unsoiled bride. I carry another man's child."
Lord Ravenscroft was silent for a moment, mulling over her words. "Ah, I see," he finally said slowly. "I will not ask you the name of the man responsible, but please know that if he does not do the right thing, I would still be honoured to have you as my wife. I would love you and the child as if it was my own."
She had to wipe away a tear. The man truly was an angel. Why, oh why, couldn't she have fallen in love with him instead of Jacob? Why couldn't her traitorous body be attracted to him, and not the dark-humoured earl? "You are too kind. I would not even deserve you," she said with a wry smile.
"Never think so," he said tenderly as he caressed her cheek. "Just remember my offer."
"I will." She nodded as he brought her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss above the knuckles.
"I suggest you get your mouth off my future wife."
The crisp voice made them both jump, and she groaned inwardly. Jacob must have a sixth sense for arriving at the worst possible time. It must be a hidden skill he'd kept from her until this summer, because she didn't know how many times he'd found her when she rather he hadn't. Ravenscroft stared at the other man but hadn't let go of her hand. When he gave her a questioning look, she couldn't bring herself to nod, but she knew he could read the answer in her eyes.
"You're still touching her," Jacob remarked in chilled tones, and she gave him an annoyed look. He was leaning a shoulder against a wooden trellis with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the two of them.
Ravenscroft stood stiffly with an irritated look in Jacob's direction before he bent down and quietly said, "My offer still stands, and you will always have my friendship." With that, he bowed and left for his carriage.
"I go to London for a few weeks and he's all over you," Jacob muttered as he pushed away from the trellis and walked towards her.
She stood, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she looked at him. If only he wasn't so blasted handsome that he made her senses sing, it would be so much easier to tell him to go to hell. At least the anger simmering since he'd left helped steady her nerves.
"You have no right to speak to him like that," she remarked.
"I most certainly have the right." He huffed. "The man was declaring himself to my future wife."
"So Nathaniel has convinced you to do the honourable thing?" She could scarcely believe it. She had expected him to refuse. After all, why wouldn't he? From what she'd heard, she wasn't the first woman he'd got with child, and the previous one he'd refused to marry.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Honestly? Yes." She noticed the faint reminder of a black eye and a bruise on his jaw. For him to agree to marry her, she had expected her brother to beat him to a pulp. The lack of bruising was surprising. "I must admit, I expected you to be more... well, black and blue."
"You know, so did I," he admitted. "I suppose he wanted me to look decent for our wedding day."
"We're really getting married?" As the realisation hit, she felt rather dazed, and she sat back down. "I didn't think you'd agree."
"Is that why you encouraged that dolt?" He nodded in the direction Ravenscroft had gone.
She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. Jacob always seemed to have that effect on her. "No, I had just declined his offer of marriage when you arrived."
"Didn't look like it to me."
"Forgive me if I don't much care what it looked like to you."
"Getting back to our previous subject," he said, ignoring her insolent tone. "I have little choice in the matter. One simply does not ruin a lady of good breeding and live to tell the tale if one doesn't marry her afterwards."
"You were quite adamant about not marrying me the last time we spoke," she reminded him bitterly.
He noticeably winced. "I will admit I haven't handled this well. I was somewhat upset after having just broken my one rule. Never seduce someone who requires marrying."
"I didn't sleep with you so you would marry me."
"I know that," he intoned, giving her an unreadable look. "It was my mistake. I never should have allowed things to go as far as they did."
"If you didn't get me with child, we could have pretended it never happened. It's not as if someone can look at me and know I've been ruined." She glared at him. "I can't believe I'm with child! I thought as a rake you would know how to prevent it, or you'd have hundreds of bastards running around."
"There's no guarantee, but there are ways to make it less likely. I normally try to minimise the risk, but I got... carried away." He looked embarrassed, then seemed to realise something and chuckled. "Hold on... Hundreds? How many women do you think I've seduced?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know. I haven't exactly been counting."
"Neither have I, but I can assure you it's not been hundreds."
A disbelieving huff made him smile. He shook his head, looking too amused by far. "You do realise I don't sleep with every woman I flirt with?"
She hadn't, but she wasn't about to admit it. When Jacob sat down next to her, she refused to look at him, even while she could feel the warmth that always emanated from him calling out to her.
"Jessica," he said, surprising her with the softness of his tone. "I've bungled this up, and I'm sorry. I should have been able to resist you, but I obviously failed. We can only make the best of this situation now."
Looking back up, she met his blue eyes, and she felt inexplicably sad that this proposal wasn't so much a proposal as a lament. "I never wanted you to be forced to marry me."
"I know. It's entirely on me." He took her hand in his, but she pulled it back, her anger sparking back to life.
"No," she said. "Everyone—including you—is placing the full blame on you, and I'm tired of it. Contrary to what everyone seems to believe, I am not an idiot. I could have kicked you out of the room, but I enjoyed kissing you too much. Enjoyed all of it too much. It's not as if I didn't know where it might lead. It was a risk I was willing to take. Foolish of me? Yes. But I wanted that night of passion before eventually having to marry someone I would most likely not feel the same for. I—"
She stopped abruptly as she realised she'd said too much. Jacob stared at her, and she could only hope he didn't fully comprehend what she'd admitted.
"I appreciate you trying to take some blame," he finally said slowly. "But I'm the more experienced one. I should have known—and did know—better. You got carried away. It's easily done, especially when you're new to these things. I don't have that excuse."
Letting out a sigh of relief that he hadn't understood her full meaning, she braced herself. "Fine, but I'd rather you not make yourself miserable by marrying me just because of one mistake."
"I got us into this situation, and I will take my responsibility. I would never let my child be raised by another man."
"That's not what I've heard," she blurted before she could stop herself and he pulled back almost as if someone had slapped him.
"Right," he said stiffly. "So you've said."
He stood and walked a few steps before turning back around, his face expressionless. "You're carrying my child, so we will be married. I think we can both agree it's the most reasonable thing to do. As much as it pains me, it will please my father, but at least he will finally be off my back. Your reputation will be saved. We will all benefit."
"So a marriage of convenience in a way?" she asked, disturbed by the lack of emotion in his voice.
"Something like that."
"Fine. We already had our wedding night. No need to try again. If it's a boy, you'll have the heir you need, and we never need to repeat the mistake."
He gave her an unreadable look before nodding. "Anything you wish," he said. "I owe you that much."
She stared after him as he disappeared between the hedgerows before standing up herself and slowly walking back towards Davenhall. The rose garden was close, and she enjoyed the exercise, but even the sun warming her couldn't raise her plummeting mood. Jacob had agreed to a marriage of convenience awfully fast. She had probably been a poor substitute for the worldly women he was used to taking as his lovers, so why would he want a repeat? He was a rake, and she didn't doubt that he would remain one after they were married.
Suggesting a marriage of convenience had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but maybe it was for the best. She didn't relish sharing Jacob with other women. If they kept their marriage platonic, perhaps it would be easier to deal with his philandering. Making love to him had been glorious, but she wasn't sure she could do it without losing her heart completely, and he already held too much of it in his careless hands. Her greatest fear was that he'd realise her feelings, and when better to do so than when making love? The last thing she needed was for him to find out. A marriage of convenience seemed like the best course of action.
But then why did she feel so miserable about it?
~~~~~~