One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(45)

She felt his sigh at her back. "You carry my child. My heir." Her stomach tightened. She should feel gratitude that honor guided him, but she felt only a gnawing bleakness. They would marry for the child. A grimace pinched her face. Love had nothing to do with it. Nor would it ever.

Turning, she faced him and her heart clenched at the grim resolve in his stare. At worst, she would live with his quiet condemnation. At best, his indifference.

"We'll marry for the child," she uttered in agreement. Her fingers drifted to her stomach, to the life hidden within. "I can think of no better reason."

"Make no mistake, Jane. Ours will be a practical union. Don't try to make more of it than that. Don't expect love."

Don't expect love. She nodded numbly.

"I ask only one thing."

She forced a smile, praying her face wouldn't crack from the effort. "Of course."

"Look after my sister if anything befalls me."

His eyes drilled into her, stripping away flesh and bone to the core of her. "Give me your word, and I'll believe you." His gaze drifted somewhere beyond her shoulder. "I'll know at least I did not fail her in that."

"Certainly," she agreed. "You needn't even ask." His gaze shot back to hers. "And you'll have my name." He dipped his head, putting his eyes level with hers. A shock a gold-streaked brown hair fell onto his forehead. She had to stop herself from reaching out and brushing it back. "Don't ask for more." Jane winced, fighting to hold his stare in the face of words that clawed her heart. "I understand." He stared at her a long moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied with her response. "I don't suppose it seemly for you to relocate to my residence prior to our vows." His lips twisted in derision. "However, you cannot remain here. Are your parents in Town?" She could not recall the last time she had seen her parents, although they permanently lived at one of the Duke of Eldermont's many town residences. Too occupied with spending the allowance granted them from Madeline's husband, they would not welcome the intrusion of her into their lives. "I'll go with you."

He eyed the stubborn lift of her chin and appeared ready to argue, then shook his head. "Very well. I'll wait here while you gather your things."

"I won't be long."

She saw no one as she hastened up the stairs. Once in her room, she hurried and packed a valise, realizing that she had very little to pack. Six years, and there was little to account for. Thoughts awhirl, she swept her gaze over the room one final time, hoping to feel something, anything for the time she had spent beneath this roof. And yet nothing stirred in her heart save a deep sadness for the years wasted to loneliness.

Eager to be gone, she hurried downstairs. To Seth.

Whatever future awaited her had to be better than what she left. Perhaps he evoked feelings too close to those she felt as a girl, those she had no business feeling as a woman entering marriage with a man who vowed to never share himself with her—to never so much as touch her. But she would overcome that. In time. She must. She wasn't a naive girl anymore. Seth would never love her. She dare not believe he could.

"Ready?" Seth asked, waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, face impassive as stone, mouth hard and unsmiling—ever the grim warrior.

"Yes," she murmured.

Even as she descended the steps to the waiting carriage, she risked a glance over her shoulder to the dusk-shrouded house, wondering if in leaving its walls she would leave her loneliness behind too.

"Jane."

She turned. Seth held his hand out and she took it, heart leaping traitorously in her chest at the warm hand enfolding her own.

Once inside the carriage, her fingers slid free of his, the loss of warmth immediate, both a relief and a regret. Settling back against the plump squabs, the sound of the carriage door clicking shut echoed in her head like the clang of a great iron gate.

Staring out the window, they began to move, and she could not help wondering whether a future as Seth's wife would prove her torment or salvation.





Chapter 19


A strange tightness gripped Seth's chest as he watched his sister embrace his bride, kissing Jane's cheek with far more exuberance than he had bestowed on her at the pronouncement of them as man and wife.

A chaste kiss was all he could manage. All he trusted himself to give. He had set the rules for this union of theirs. He would not crumble and show himself weak now, on the first day of their marriage. She would not control him. He would not permit her to enslave him with his craving for her.

Jane met his stare over Julianne's shoulder and quickly looked away, making him wonder what she saw when she looked at him. The husband she had duped and snared? Try as he might, he could not muster forth much of his earlier rancor. Not if she had done what she did to escape Billings. He'd been glad to remove her from that bastard.

Theirs had not been a grand church wedding. Merely a drawing room ceremony. No flowers. No candles. No pews full of family and friends.

His eyes flicked over her. The moment she entered the room he had cringed with some distaste that she still wore black, feeling irrationally annoyed to be marrying a woman in mourning for another man. He cursed beneath his breath for not thinking to provide her with something other than black. For not thinking of her at all—only his sense of injustice at being forced to wed a woman he would not have chosen.