Page 44 of His Perfect Bride
They disembarked on the wharf in James Bay, thanked Jonas, and began to walk back to Fairview. With the Sunday morning bright and sunny and containing a hint of warmth, it was turning out to be a lovely day. If only Jackson would say something—anything—to diffuse the growing tension.
As she strolled beside him, she tried not to keep glancing his way. He’d slung a grain sack of items from Caleb and Willow over his shoulder—mainly produce from their garden to give to Gustave. After a second morning without shaving, the stubble on his jaw was even darker, making him more broody-looking than usual.
By the time they reached Fairview’s front gate, she was almost desperate for him to speak, and her stomach was in knots.
When they stood before the door, Jackson paused. “I apologize if I overstepped myself last evening in the barn.”
She let herself take a full breath, relieved he was finally bringing up the matter even if he was staring at the door and avoiding her gaze. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“I do.” He fiddled with the door handle but didn’t open it. “I shouldn’t have kissed you in the first place. Then I was remiss in getting carried away.”
He was apologizing for kissing her? She shouldn’t have kissed him either. They were from two different worlds, going two different directions. Just because they’d felt some attraction to each other didn’t mean they should have acted upon it.
Besides, Willow had been wrong to suggest that Jackson loved her. What did Willow know after seeing Jackson for less than twenty-four hours?
“Please forgive me,” Jackson persisted softly.
“There’s nothing to forgive.” An ache settled in her heart, one that felt an awful lot like what she’d experienced with David. “We got caught up in the moment. It was a mistake, and we won’t let it happen again.”
“It was a mistake?” His gun-metal blue eyes regarded her almost as if he was surprised by her statement.
It had been a mistake, hadn’t it? Wasn’t that what he’d implied by apologizing? “It won’t—it can’t lead anywhere.” Embarrassment flooded her as she spoke the bold words. She needed him to know she wasn’t the type of woman who would ever consider illicit relations. She didn’t think he was that kind of man either. Nevertheless, she had to make that clear.
He sighed heavily. “You’re right. I am unable to offer anything, and I shan’t make promises that I cannot keep.”
The ache inside her heart swelled. What had she expected? That he’d contradict her and tell her that he wanted more? That they’d go slow and work things out? That they’d overcome all the obstacles to find a life together?
After what Willow had said about not pushing Jackson away, Sage could admit that secretly and for half a minute she’d entertained the idea of having a relationship with him. But that wasn’t what he was thinking in return. He didn’t want anything with her. And he obviously didn’t want to disrespect her by pursuing a short-term dalliance.
She stiffened her shoulders against the turmoil rolling through her, the feelings reminding her again of all she’d gone through with David. She didn’t want to experience that kind of rejection again. Once had been enough. That was one reason why she’d resolved herself to being a spinster, because the endless ache in her chest was too much to endure.
She was better off staying away from relationships altogether and focusing on being a good lady’s maid.
“I suggest we forget the kiss ever happened.” She scanned the wide street lined with the finest homes in Victoria, all of them with sprawling yards and lovely landscaping. Although no one else was out on the street at the Sunday morning hour, the conversation was still mortifying, and she didn’t want anyone to hear it. She just prayed Augusta was away at church and hadn’t been listening to them from inside the house.
Jackson stared down at the front stoop, his jaw flexing. His back was rigid, and he seemed to be fighting a battle within himself.
Could he really forget their kiss? She never would, not as long as she lived. But she would never admit that.
After a moment, he nodded. “I shall try to do as you have suggested.” With that, he turned back to the door and opened it. He waved her to go ahead of him as any polite gentleman would do.
More rejection knocked against her heart, but she tried to ignore it, held her chin high, and stepped forward.
He focused inside the house until she was adjacent to him. Then his gaze dropped to her face and to her lips for the briefest of moments.
As much as she wanted to deny their kiss, the memory flashed into her mind unbidden and unfiltered, taking her right back to the moment his mouth had crushed hers with a power that had swept her away.
But she forced herself to not look at his lips in return, forced her feet to keep moving, and forced herself to walk past him. Even though Willow had warned her not to push Jackson to arm’s length, that’s exactly what she needed to do. It was the only way to survive being around him.
He obviously had his reasons for holding her at arm’s length too. Certainly, he’d shown that he desired her. But desire wasn’t enough to build a relationship.
As he closed the door, she untied the silk ribbon under her chin and lifted the hat from her head. The silence of the home indicated Augusta had gone to church.
Sage hung her hat on the coat-tree just as the servants’ door at the long end of the hallway burst open and Gustave rushed out.
“There you are, Monsieur.” The cook’s orange-red hair sprang out in curls around his plump face, which was also a shade of splotchy red. His rounded stomach heaved up and down, and he was breathing hard, as if he’d run all the way up from the kitchen in record time.
Jackson didn’t seem to notice the cook, was already stalking toward his study, clearly wanting to escape from her or from whatever turmoil was going on between them.
