‘But if I go, you shall be alone with Major Gascoyne,’ the girl said, blinking. ‘Do you wish me to find someone to chaperon you?’
Lucy gritted her teeth and pressed her palms flat against her bombazine skirt. ‘Chaperons are not necessary. I do not flatter myself to think his mind would turn in that direction over me.’ She looked across the room to where Jack stood, looking out of the window at the snow which was battering the windowpanes. ‘As he said before, apparently, Major Gascoyne is like a brother to me.’ Before Millicent could question her further, she gave the girl a gentle shove in the direction of Fred.
When her brother saw his beloved, his face lit up with a smile brighter than a ballroom chandelier. The sight was all it took to make Miss Forsythe evaporate like hoarfrost, leaving Lucy alone with Jack.
As she looked over at him, the years seemed to drop away, revealing the boy she had fallen in love with. His shoulders were broader, perhaps, his legs muscled from riding and his features had lost their boyish softness. But other than a thin scar on his chin, he was physically unmarked by the war. His eyes were the same clear grey, though more sombre than they used to be, and his chestnut-brown hair was shorter and cut in the style of a man who did not have time to bother with fashion.
‘Let us drop the pretence,’ Jack said, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Miss Forsythe was correct. We should not be alone together.’ He had obviously been eavesdropping.
‘I do not see why not,’ she replied. ‘You have not bothered to speak to me since that hypocritical greeting when you arrived.’
He crossed the room and glanced down the hall to make sure that Fred and Millicent had gone upstairs before wheeling on her with a stern frown. ‘You know perfectly well how risky this is. Have a care for your reputation.’
‘I suppose I should mind my honour, since you never did,’ she said, then spoiled it by pushing past him to close the parlour door, leaving them shut in together. As there had been the last time they were together, there was a kissing bough hanging in the doorway. That year, it had been an elegant arrangement of ivy, mistletoe, apples and ribbons, that she had made with the express purpose of trapping Jack Gascoyne in a kiss.
It had grown less involved with each year he had been gone and she had come to dread the preparation of it, not wanting to think about kissing him or anyone else. This year, despite the fact that her house was full of company, there was but a single red ribbon holding a sprig of mistletoe, the berries of which could be numbered on her fingers.
He turned slowly to face her and waited to see if she would speak again, giving no indication that he had noticed her anger. Then, at last, he said, almost to himself, ‘I should not have come here. But I could not refuse your brother’s invitation without a reason.’
‘Without a reason?’ She resisted the temptation to shriek like the mad old maid her brother was afraid she had become. ‘What happened between us before you went away is reason enough for you to avoid this house.’
‘Some would say it was reason to come back,’ he corrected.
‘If you had returned earlier, perhaps I would believe you,’ she snapped. ‘But to appear after six months in England, only to call me a sister?’
He shrugged. ‘You made no effort to contact me, in all the time I was gone.’
‘Because you dishonoured me,’ she replied.
By the way he started at the words, she could almost believe that he did not realise what he had done. Then his composure returned. ‘You seemed to enjoy it well enough at the time.’
‘Only because you tricked me,’ she said, blushing. ‘All I wanted from you was a kiss.’
And she had got one. But after? It was a lie to blame him for what they had done together. She could not quite remember how what had begun as an innocent kiss under the mistletoe had ended with him sprawled over her on the floor as she clung to him, begging for more. He had sworn that he would never leave her, if only she would give him the most precious of gifts. And she had said yes, without a moment’s hesitation.
‘What happened between us was not intentional, I assure you,’ he said with a wolfish grin. ‘I was as surprised as you by the way it ended.’
‘Which part?’ she asked with a sceptical grimace. ‘When you seduced me? Or when you abandoned me?’
‘Is that what you thought?’ he asked. Now he seemed honestly shocked by her interpretation of events.
‘You took my maidenhead and assured me that no harm would come of it. Then you left and I never saw or heard from you again until this night.’
For a moment, his face had no expression at all. Then his brows knit in honest confusion. ‘Your brother did not explain to you?’
‘He told me that you joined the army,’ she said, her voice breaking with the memory. She had not wanted to believe that he could be so cruel as to do so without as much as a goodbye. But as time had passed with no word from him, she had been forced to admit that it was true. ‘I waited for three weeks, terrified that I might be carrying a child whose father would not claim it.’
Now he looked as if he had been slapped. Had he not given a single thought to the consequences of his departure? Then his hands reached out to comfort her, only to drop as she stepped clear of them. ‘You have nothing to be concerned about,’ she said, though the fact should have been obvious by now. ‘You have no hidden bastards in this country, at least.’ Then she added, ‘That I know of. I have no idea how many other girls you might have left in a similar manner.’
‘I did not mean to leave you,’ he said. ‘I went to your brother as soon as we had parted. After what we had done, I thought a speedy marriage might be necessary.’
‘You told him?’ she said, mortified.
‘I would not be alive if I had. He would not have bothered with a duel. He would have shot me before I could finish my offer. And I would have most heartily deserved it.’
‘You offered for me?’ Now she was the one who was shocked.
He nodded. ‘I gave him no indication of what had happened. I simply told him that I had loved you since we were children and asked for your hand.’
‘And he refused you,’ she said, as suddenly everything became clear. ‘It is so nice to know, after all this time, that you intended to do your duty by me.’
‘It was not duty,’ he insisted. ‘It was...’ Then he stopped as if he could not quite manage to say the word ‘love’ a second time. It was just as well. They both knew it was far too late for such an admission.
‘Your reason for offering does not matter,’ she said brusquely. ‘Fred said nothing of meeting with you.’ But now, at least, she knew the subject of the argument that her brother had just recently admitted to and his desire to do right by Jack if the war had damaged his spirit.
‘He told me that you were too young and I was too irresponsible to take care of you,’ Jack replied.
‘I’d have run away with you, had you asked,’ she reminded him. An elopement would have proved her brother right. As time had passed, she had realised that neither of them had been ready for marriage. It was probably for the best he had left her. But that did not change how she’d felt, at the time.
‘Fred said I was too wild,’ he muttered, like the sullen boy he had been. ‘He did not trust me with you.’
‘It was a bit late for him to come to such a conclusion,’ she said with a laugh. ‘We had known each other all our lives and he had made no effort to keep me safe from you. In fact, he always thought your outrageous behaviour to be excellent fun.’
‘Not always,’ Jack said.