‘How, how soon can we be married by special licence?’ she whispered.
‘Ah. I have been thinking about that.’
‘Oh. I—um—I thought you wanted to be married with all speed.’
‘Yes, I know that is what I said, but after all that has happened I am afraid I have changed my mind.’
Eloise struggled to sit up. It was impossible to read his expression in the darkness, but his words sent her heart plummeting. Swallowing, she began nervously to smooth her gown over her knees.
‘I, I quite understand,’ she said, trying not to cry. ‘I am aware that you consider yourself under an, an obligation to Tony, but after all you have done for me, I think you have more than fulfilled that duty.’
‘Why, I think so, too.’
Her heart sank. Eloise gazed out of the window where the dawn was washing the landscape in shades of dirty grey. So he had reconsidered, he had realised how damaging it would be to marry her. He would have to love her very much indeed to risk everything for her. And he did not love her, he loved Clara Deforge. With great resolution she turned to face him.
‘Jack, there is something else I must tell you.’
He was leaning back in the corner of the carriage, half-asleep, but now he opened his eyes and regarded her.
‘More secrets?’
‘Not exactly.’ She did not smile. ‘When I was in the carriage with Sir Ronald, he—he mentioned his first wife.’ Jack did not move but she knew she had his attention. She continued, ‘He, um, he told me that he and Clara had fallen hopelessly in love when they first met and, and although their passion had cooled a little by the time she drowned herself, I do not think he wished her any harm.’
She waited, holding her breath, for his reply.
‘And you believe him?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘He had no reason to lie to me.’ She took his hand. ‘I wanted you to know that, Jack. I know it will hurt to think that she was not faithful to you, but she and Sir Ronald really did love one another.’
‘Thank you for telling me.’
He closed his eyes again. Anxiously she studied his face. There was no guessing his thoughts. After a few moments Jack opened his eyes and looked at her.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she whispered. ‘I thought it might help…’
He smiled.
‘It does. I am glad, truly, that she was not unhappy.’
She blinked rapidly. ‘I am sorry that she did not always love you…’
‘I am not. Not now. I did love her, but that is in the past, and knowing that she made her choice for love, not greed, or ambition—I will let her rest now.’ He reached out to stroke her cheek. ‘Did you think I still loved her? I don’t, you know. She will not come between us.’
She nodded, the knot of misery still tight in her chest. She had been foolish to think a respectable man would want her for a wife, but even as her hopes crumbled she realised that she did not want Jack to suggest she become his mistress: she had thought him different from those other men. She had thought him truly honourable. A lump filled her throat. It was her own fault; she had always been too fanciful. She knew very well that even honourable men had mistresses. Eloise had never considered herself in the role of a mistress, and she would not, even for Jack. Especially for Jack. She blinked, hard. Alex wanted to go home to mourn his lost love. She would return to Allyngham and do the same. As Jack went to pull her into his arms she held him off.
‘Please,’ she said, her voice not quite steady. ‘I know you think me fast, I know I have given you every reason to do so, but please, no more! I quite understand why you no longer wish to marry me, but—’
She heard Jack chuckle.
‘No, you don’t understand, Elle. Come here.’ He pulled her back into his arms. ‘I never said I didn’t want to marry you, but I will not wed you by special licence, my foolish love, because I intend to marry you with as much pomp and ceremony as we can muster, and that will take a little time to arrange. The only decisions you have to make, my sweet, are what you will wear, and whether you wish to be married from Allyngham, or from Henchard.’
She stared at him.
‘Truly?’ She put one hand up to his face, her fingers rubbing against the faint dark stubble on his cheek. ‘You would really do that for me?’ she said wonderingly. ‘But, but why?’
He gazed down at her. Even in the grey dawn light she could see the warm glow in his eyes.
‘Do you really have to ask?’
‘Y-yes,’ she whispered, hardly daring to hope. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Because, my sweet innocent, I want the whole world to know how much I love you.’
‘Oh,’ she said, tears welling in her eyes, ‘you r-really love me?’
‘To distraction,’ he muttered, hugging her even tighter. ‘I cannot imagine life without you!’ He kissed her savagely. ‘I want you for a wife, Elle. A lover, a friend—a partner to stand beside me against the world!’ He kissed her again. ‘And we will be married in a positive fog of respectability.’
With a little sob she threw her arms about his neck.
‘Oh, Jack, it is what I hoped, what I dreamed of, but never dared believe…’
‘Well, you may believe it now,’ he murmured, gently nibbling her ear. ‘And as long as you love me, there is nothing to stand in our way.’
‘I do,’ she told him, hugging him tightly. ‘I love you more than I ever thought it possible!’
He gathered her to him and kissed her, gently at first, but as the kiss deepened his arms tightened protectively around her. She leaned into him, revelling in the way his body hardened against hers. He swung her round and pulled her across his lap, covering her face and neck with kisses while she clung to him, exulting in the hot, passionate embrace. When at last he released her they were both panting. She lay in his arms, her head resting on his chest and the steady thud of his heart beating against her cheek.
‘Happy now?’ he murmured, dropping a kiss on her hair.
‘Mmm. Jack?’
‘Yes?’ He began to nibble her ear.
‘Your plans for a respectable marriage,’ she murmured, closing her eyes as his lips trailed gently across her neck, painting a line of warm kisses on her skin. ‘The banns, a new gown—this will take at least a month. Does that mean I must hire a chaperon, and only see you in company until our wedding day?’
His mouth was moving across the soft swell of her breast, but at her words he raised his head and looked at her. There was sufficient light in the carriage for her to see the gleam in his dark eyes and what she read there sent a delicious tingle running down to her very toes.
‘Well,’ he said, giving her a wicked smile, ‘I don’t think we need to be quite that respectable!’