Jasper didn’t know if Katherine was aware of it, but somewhere along the way, she’d ceased to speak of fabrics and instead spoke of Bertrand Ekstrom.
It was also the moment he knew he would wed her.
“What else, Katherine?” he said, softly.
“I don’t believe you’d squander your wealth.” She glanced down at the snow. “I believe you to be a gentleman who’d not leave your family destitute, at the mercy of distant relatives.”
“And is that what happened to you, Katherine? Your father left your family destitute?”
She snapped her mouth closed, and her lips flattened into a single, mutinous line.
A vise-like pressure tightened around the heart he’d thought deadened. Except, if it was dead, he should not feel this dull pain at the thought of a young Katherine destitute, desperate, at the mercy of others. If her father were not dead, he’d gladly grind the bastard’s face beneath the weight of his fist.
Poor, Katherine.
Katherine glared up at him, her eyes snapping fire. “I do not want your pity.”
She possessed more strength and courage than most gentlemen he’d known in his life. “I wouldn’t dare pity you,” he murmured. Jasper didn’t believe he could identify a single lady who’d be so bold as to propose marriage, all to save herself from her scheming mother’s machinations.
Katherine’s eyes ran a path over his face, as if trying to ascertain the sincerity of his words, and he hated that his vibrant, spirited Katherine should have such a guarded look to her. She nodded slowly. “Well, then. Thank you again for the volume.”
She made to step around him, but he placed himself in front of her.
Her breath stirred little puffs of white winter air about her. She shifted the burdens of the book and reticule she carried. “What is it, then?” Heavy annoyance underlined her words.
There was something so very endearing about her unguarded reaction to him.
The volume in her hand fell again into the snow. Poor Wordsworth would be in quite the state if he could see the condition of his poor leather volume.
Jasper felt himself grinning in response.
“Yes,” he said.
An unladylike curse escaped her as she bent down to retrieve her volume. “Yes, what, Your Grace?”
“Yes, Jasper,” he corrected. “And yes, I’ll marry you.”
~13~
After he’d made certain that Katherine had made her way safely home, the implications of their meeting hit Jasper with all the force of a heap of stone being placed upon his chest. With his mind spinning and gut clenching, Jasper, for the first time in many years, sought out someone else’s counsel.
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced the Aubusson carpet in the Marquess of Guilford’s office.
Now, it was one thing seeking out counsel, it was an altogether different thing in broaching such a delicate matter for discussion.
Guilford rested, hip propped at the edge of his wide mahogany desk. “I must say, this visit is rather something of a surprise.”
Jasper glared over at him, and continued pacing.
What manner of madness had possessed him to accept Katherine’s offer of marriage? He’d been so enchanted, so utterly beguiled by the sight of her with that silly bonnet and preposterous list, his acceptance had just tumbled from his lips.
He’d not considered the ramifications of marriage to…not just to Katherine, but to any woman.
He’d not risk an emotional connection, and he most certainly would not risk begetting another heir upon any wife. Nay, not just any wife.
He stopped abruptly in the middle of Guilford’s floor.
Lady Katherine Adamson.
Jasper wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.
Christ.
“I venture something has happened to bring you out of your lair?”
Oh, something had certainly happened all right.
“I agreed to marry Lady Katherine Adamson.”
His friend cocked his head. “What was that?”
Jasper resumed pacing. “Marriage. To Katherine…Lady Katherine,” he amended. He slashed the air with his hand. “I know what you are thinking.”
Guilford snorted. “Oh, I’d wager you most certainly do not.”
Jasper gritted his teeth at the obvious humor in his friend’s tone. He was glad one of them found the situation bloody amusing. The reality of it was, that it was a blasted nightmare. He most certainly could not wed Katherine.
There was the matter of children.
And her damned smile. And her tight brown ringlets.
And…
Lydia.
He froze again, struck by the realization that he’d not thought of Lydia. What was happening to him?
“So you offered for the lady.”
Jasper glanced up. “Not quite,” he muttered under his breath.