Page 12 of His Perfect Bride
She was from another world entirely, and she couldn’t forget it.
She took a rapid step back, breaking free from Augusta. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave the two of you to dine together.”
Five
Jackson knew he was behaving like a buffoon by ogling Sage so openly and boldly, but her presence had taken him by such surprise that he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
Or maybe he’d been without a woman for too long that he’d forgotten how to behave. More likely, after the weeks and months of shutting himself off from the world, he’d become a savage.
It could also be because Sage was a very lovely woman, much lovelier than he’d anticipated. Yes, there was even something about her that made his blood heat a degree or two.
Meredith hadn’t had that effect upon him. For all the many months he’d courted her and then been engaged, he’d never been tempted to ogle her, and the temperature of his blood had never heated.
Of course, when they’d shared kisses once in a while, he’d felt a pull toward her. He was a man with needs, after all. But he’d never had the urge to just stand and stare at her as he was doing at the moment with Sage. And he’d never had the urge to keep staring, very nearly as if he couldn’t get enough of this woman before him and needed to keep drinking her in.
“But of course you must stay, Miss Rhodes,” Augusta was saying while narrowing censuring eyes upon him. “Forgive my brother for his rudeness.”
“I can’t join you.” Sage took another step back, her blue eyes wide and filled with such uncertainty that they somehow tugged at him. Wastuggedeven the right word? Moved him? Stirred something inside him?
He didn’t know how to explain it, but at the prospect of her running off and hiding away the rest of the evening, he had to say something. He waved at the two empty places at the table across from his. “Please. The table is already set.” The words came out gruff, almost a demand.
Sage shook her head. “I don’t want to impose.”
Augusta reached for Sage’s hand and tucked it back into the crook of her elbow. “She’s not imposing, is she, Jackson?”
Technically, he’d never eaten with a servant. Not even lady’s maids sat down to dinner with the family—not here or when he’d lived in Rupert’s Land, which had been even wilder and more uncivilized than Victoria.
But Augusta never had put as much stock in class differences, and clearly still didn’t. So how should he answer his sister so that she didn’t throttle him?
Sage was watching his face, and at his delayed answer, a slight blush moved into her cheeks.
His hesitation was only making matters worse. The problem was, he hadn’t really wanted to have dinner with Augusta in the first place and had only done so to pacify her. Now having Sage present, too, would only make him feel more awkward because it was clear she didn’t like him and had gone out of her way to avoid him all week.
“You’re always so kind to me.” Sage squeezed Augusta’s arm. “But now that we’re here in Victoria, I do think I would be remiss to act as though I am a fine lady or a part of your family when I am only hired help.”
“You’re more than hired help to me.”
This time Sage broke away completely from Augusta. “I’m sure you’d love some time to reconnect with your brother without the bother of my presence.”
“Your presence is delightful.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Sage gave a slight curtsy and then hurriedly retreated into the hallway.
As soon as Sage’s footsteps faded, Augusta leveled a glare upon him.
A needle of guilt pierced him. Yes, he was at fault for driving Sage away. He could admit it. She’d clearly intended to join them for dinner, but she’d sensed his reluctance and his unfriendly attitude.
“Well, that was uncalled for.” Augusta stood rigidly in her formal gown. The low lighting cast a shadow over her narrow face and made her look tired and older.
The guilt inside him only pricked harder. His sister had come all this way to visit him. The long voyage hadn’t been easy or without trials. In addition, he hadn’t been welcoming, and his home had been in shambles.
Regardless of the circumstances, she’d made the best of the situation. She’d taken charge just as she usually did. Without any complaint, she’d set to work, helping him pick up the pieces of his shattered life—whether he’d wanted to pick them up or not.
Although he hadn’t particularly liked the commotion or the intrusion on his privacy, he’d understood on some level that it was past time for him to stop living the way he had been and to start making some changes.
But what changes?
The helplessness and despair that had been plaguing him for months still gnawed at him.
