Page 45 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
She detected a flush of color on his neck as he worked to insert the curtains on the rod, taking a moment before answering.
“I suppose you could not have helped but to notice me, for I was staring at you quite unashamedly.”
He looked at her when he said this, but only briefly, and she caught his wry, embarrassed smile. This made her certain he could not be embezzling money from the asylum. No one could be so entirely two people at once—venal and pure, cocksure and bashful.
“Was it your first time at the opera?” she asked him. Somehow, she already knew the answer was no.
Once again, he paused before answering her, focusing his attention on inserting the second rod into the bracket. “I do enjoy the opera, but I have not been lately.”
It was cautious in the way of replies but nothing that she could object to. He retrieved the third curtain from her, the last one to hang. “And you, my lady? Did you enjoy it?”
She clasped her hands as she watched him hang the lastcurtain, admiring his athletic form in spite of herself. “I enjoyed the music, but perhaps not quite so much the company.”
He glanced at her again before returning his gaze back to his task. “There was a gentleman in your box.”
How astute you are.But she detected a note of jealousy in his voice and was mollified. He was not indifferent to her.
“He is heir to the Duke of Rigsby. Lord Amherst, who has recently returned to London after overseeing a family plantation in Jamaica. My father wished for us to meet.”
He hopped down from the chair and walked over to where she stood. To have him face her directly in such a way caused her breath to evaporate. Every time they were near each other, the air seemed charged.
“I should not ask this. I have no right to do so…” Mr. Rowles’s voice was deep as he looked down at her, unsmiling. “But is your father’s desire for you to be better acquainted with the marquess what you wish for too, or not?”
His look held a challenge. She knew they had crossed over some invisible line, because in the past he would have excused himself for being too forward. Now he clearly had some proprietary thoughts toward her—in the same way she did toward him.
She lifted her chin. “I do not. My heart is otherwise engaged.” She met his stare in a way he could not mistake if he chose to understand. She saw from the flash in his eyes that he did.
“Geny…”
Her name hung in the air between them. He lifted his hand to her face but dropped it before she felt the touch of his fingers on her cheek. The air sizzled and snapped between them. She waited for him to make the first move, her sense of longing only growing. She had already been shockingly forthright.
“I will not pretend to misunderstand your meaning,” he said from his close distance. “I am gratified?—”
She looked up at him, her brows drawn sharply together revealing the flash of anger that sparked from that word. She did not want his gratitude.
He rectified his words. “No, I will not say what I was going to, for it would be an insult to you.”
Geny waited, trying to read the expression in his eyes, to understand what he was attempting to say. The silence grew as he exhaled slowly. And then, almost as an admission?—
“I return your feelings. Fully. I believe mine more than likely surpass yours.”
She inhaled a dizzying sense of joy, but before she could realize her good fortune he continued.
“But I cannot give full rein to my feelings. I was a coxcomb to have kissed you as I did, for I cannot pursue you as I wish to—and as you deserve after my having taken such liberties. We are not of the same station, and therefore we cannot possibly suit.”
Geny blinked, disappointment carving her heart in two. “John, should I not be the judge of that? As your social superior, although I do not make claims to superiority in any other way, is it not formeto say what I wish for?”
His gaze held hers for a long moment, and she knew he was tempted. She could see it in his expression and hoped he would capitulate. Then he shook his head slowly.
“Your father would never approve.”
“My father has no sway over me in decisions such as these. I wish to be a dutiful daughter, but I cannot be pressed into a marriage that is unpalatable to me, and at the moment that is any marriage where my heart is not engaged.”
John had not moved away, for all he professed to be incapable of offering for her. If anything, he had seemed to gravitate toward her as though he could not resist the pull between them any more than she could.
“I understand by your words that you mean as long as yourheart is engaged toward mine, you will not accept any other offer.” He bit his lip and looked down. “This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I think you should open up your heart to other offers. I must act in your best interest and not seek that of my own.”
“I am the judge of my best interest,” she snapped. Howcouldhe be so stubborn?
