by Wolf, Bree
“It’s been too long,” Grandmamma Clarice insisted. “Promise me you’ll never disappear like that again.”
Colin nodded, his gaze drifting to Jo, who stood in the back, her arm through Kenwood’s, and glanced at him from under her lashes.
“Johanna, dear,” Grandmamma Clarice called, her sharp eyes not missing anything, “this is a marvellous day, is it not? Our dear Colin is finally back.” Holding out her hand, she pulled her granddaughter forward, all but pushing her into Colin’s arms. “You haven’t seen each other in…what?…four years. I’m certain you have a lot to talk about.” And with that Grandmamma Clarice drew the others away, leaving him and Jo to look at each other like fools, not knowing where to begin.
Clearing his throat, Colin offered Jo his arm. “Shall we walk?” he asked, wondering what agenda Grandmamma Clarice had. After all, she had been the one to send for him. Had she known Jo had been on the verge of betrothal to another? Or had that been a more recent development?
“I’d like that,” Jo whispered, and Colin got the distinct feeling that with all these bystanders around she did not feel like herself, nor dare act like it.
As they cut their way through the crowd, Colin spotted Mr. Dashwood standing with two young ladies as well as an elderly couple. Upon seeing them, he inclined his head, clearly interested in continuing their conversation and hearing further details about his brother’s life.
Inhaling a deep breath, Colin decided that perhaps it was exactly what Jo needed. Something that would take the focus off them and allow them to converse with greater ease. And so, he steered her toward the other side of the ballroom. “Mr. Dashwood, it is a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce an old friend of mine, Miss Johanna Grey.”
“It is a pleasure,” Mr. Dashwood said, bowing to Jo, who managed a sweet smile, her hand tensing just a little on Colin’s arm. He had to admit he rather liked it, for the moment selfishly−or foolishly! −ignoring that the woman he longed for was betrothed to another.
After Mr. Dashwood introduced those in his company as Lord and Lady Gadbury as well as their daughters Lady Isabella and Lady Adriana, he asked, “Has Robert said anything about returning to England?”
Colin shook his head. “I’m afraid not. When I left Venice, he was planning on travelling to Greece next.”
“Greece!” Lady Isabella exclaimed, a touch of awe in her voice while her sister rolled her eyes, clearly bored. “What a wonderful country so rich in history and archaeological sites.”
While Lady Adriana and her parents quickly shrank into the background, Mr. Dashwood and Lady Isabella seemed most interested in the sites Robert planned to visit. “I assume you’re aware that history is a passion of mine,” Mr. Dashwood said, glancing at the young lady by his side. “Ours, truth be told.” Colin wondered if they might be more than mere acquaintances…or would be eventually.
Colin laughed, noticing the relaxed smile that had come to Jo’s face. “Robert mentioned your interest.”
Mr. Dashwood laughed, “We’re quite unlike one another in that regard. My fascination with history and ancient artefacts has always bored Robert to tears.”
Lady Isabella chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at her sister. “It’s been the same with me and my sister. She steadfastly refuses to go to the British Museum with me. It is strange to think that one and the same place can be utterly fascinating for one and utterly boring for another.” Shaking her head, Lady Isabella sighed before her gaze drifted to Mr. Dashwood.
Beside Colin, Jo chuckled, “Let me guess, the two of you met at the British Museum?” she asked, glancing from the young lady to Robert’s twin.
Colin smiled when he saw Jo reawakening, shaking off the gloomy thoughts that had no doubt lingered on her mind. If only he knew what they were!
Mr. Dashwood nodded, sharing a knowing look with Lady Isabella. “Indeed, we did. I found it quite refreshing to meet a like-minded lady in the one place I feel most at home. I’m afraid I do not know how to converse about fashion and horse racing and…whatnot.” Mr. Dashwood grinned a bit sheepishly as though he was used to apologising for his passion. “It is utterly favourable to spend one’s time with someone who understands the fundamentals of one’s character, is it not?”
“I whole-heartedly agree,” Colin said, glancing down at Jo in the very moment she looked up at him. The second their eyes met, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she felt the same, and the bond that had connected them since childhood pulled on his heart with renewed force.
She was indeed the one, and he could curse himself for allowing her to slip through his fingers. Why had he not returned sooner? He had been a fool to wait this long.
Ten minutes! That thought had been circling through his mind ever since he had first seen her after returning to England. He had lost his chance by a matter of ten minutes! Was fate truly this cruel?
After taking their leave from Mr. Dashwood and Lady Isabella, Colin steered Jo passed dancing couples and whispering matrons, trying his best to be inconspicuous and not catch Kenwood’s attention as he guided the man's fiancée through a side door and out into a darkened corridor.
“Where are we going?” Jo asked, a touch of concern in her voice as she glanced at the deserted hallway. “We should return to the ballroom.”
Pulling her onward, Colin shook his head. “I need to speak to you,” he bit out, cursing himself for the harshness of his tone. Then he opened the door to the library and led her inside, shutting it behind them. “Why did you accept Kenwood’s proposal?” he demanded without preamble, wishing that he had the patience to speak to her the way she deserved.
However, he did not.
He needed to know.
Now.
Chapter Eleven − A Word Given
Ever since Colin had taken her arm, Jo had been acutely aware of his presence. The warmth of his touch. The teasing sparkle in his eyes. The soft curl that came to lips whenever his gaze would meet hers.
And again, she had felt that flutter in her stomach that only he had ever stirred within her.
Renewed guilt had welled up in her heart; not only for Owen’s sake, but now for Brendan’s as well. Was this her fate? To betray the man she was betrothed to?
Ever since Colin’s return, Jo had done her utmost to ignore the deep longing that had suddenly returned to her heart. She had tried to tell herself that he was merely a friend, that she cared for Brendan, but it had been no use. Her heart had called her a liar.
And yet, she had given her word.
This time it had been her choice. Not her parents’. It had been she who had chosen to accept Brendan’s proposal, promising him her heart, her loyalty, her future.
“Why did you accept Kenwood’s proposal?” Colin all but snarled as he stood before her, his large frame blocking the door, forcing her to answer.
Jo swallowed, overwhelmed by the sudden confrontation. Only moments ago, she had begun to relax in his company, finally able to see past the guilt that had reclaimed her ever since his return. And now, here he was, asking the very question she feared more than any other.
Why indeed? For deep down, Johanna knew that it had not been love that had urged her on. No, if she was utterly honest with herself, she knew that it had not been.
Still, this was not the time and place to be utterly honest, and so Jo raised her chin and met Colin’s burning gaze with a defiant one of her own. “How dare you snap at me like this? Have you no manners?”
A dark chuckle rose from his throat as he stalked toward her, the green in his eyes darkening with each step. “Why did you accept his proposal?” he insisted, the tense set of his jaw telling her that he would not allow her to dodge his question forever.
Inhaling a deep breath, Jo steeled herself. “Because…because I enjoy his company.” The moment the words had left her lips, Jo knew it was a weak answer, and she wondered where it had come from. If she was to convince Colin that she did not care for him, she had have to do better.
> After all, she had given her word.
Colin snorted, “That’s a rather odd way of saying that you care for him.” His eyes narrowed as he watched her. “Do you?”
Gritting her teeth, Jo swallowed, willing herself not to drop her gaze. “Of course, I do,” she bit out, crossing her arms in front of her. “Why else would I have accepted him?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know,” Colin replied as he strode forward, his long legs carrying him to her until the tips of his shoes brushed the hem of her gown. “I do not believe that you care for him, not the way you care for−”
“Of course, I do!” Jo interrupted before Colin could say what she feared most in this world. “He’s a wonderful man. He is kind and respectful. He makes me laugh.” She sighed, disgusted with herself when she noticed tears standing in her eyes. “I haven’t laughed in so long. He helped me. He…” Her voice shook as she spoke, and the words died on her lips.
With his lips pressed into a thin line, Colin had been watching her. However, when her voice broke, he exhaled a long breath and his features softened. “He was a friend to you,” he whispered as his hand reached out yet again and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “A good friend.”
Jo shivered at his touch, her muscles tensing to keep her from sagging to the ground as her knees turned to water. “He was,” she whispered, reminding herself of the man she had agreed to marry. The man who was not the one currently standing in front of her.
Colin swallowed as a shadow fell over his face. “Like Owen.”
In that moment, Johanna’s heart stopped, and she stared at Colin open-mouthed, her being overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions that washed over her as the dam broke.
“Owen was a friend, was he not?”
Jo’s mouth felt dry. “Of course, he was.”
“Only a friend?” Colin asked, his green eyes narrowed as he watched her. His shoulders betrayed the tension that rested in his body as he waited for her to reply.
Johanna swallowed, not knowing what to say. Owen had been her friend and her betrothed, and she had owed him more than friendship, had she not? Was she betraying his memory by stating out loud that she had never felt more than friendship for him? Was she betraying him even now by merely thinking it?
“Do you know,” Colin began when she remained quiet, too lost in her thoughts, “if he ever felt more for you than friendship?”
Oddly enough, Johanna had never asked herself that question, and yet, her heart seemed to know its answer as though Owen had proclaimed it himself. “No. He did not.”
Colin almost sagged forward in relief, a deep smile claiming his features. “How do you know?” he asked as though he did not dare believe her.
Johanna sighed, realising for the first time that she had not been the only one in their betrothal who would have chosen differently. “Because he never looked at me the way−” Breaking off, she clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at Colin.
Holding her gaze, Colin slowly reached for her hand, pulling it from her mouth. “The way I did?” he whispered, his heart on his tongue. “The way I still do?”
Johanna’s teeth began to chatter, and goose bumps broke out all over her body as an icy chill raced through her. Fear lodged the breath in her throat, and she took a step backwards, knowing the danger she suddenly found herself in.
“Don’t run from me, Jo?” Colin pleaded, his warm hand tensing on her chilled arm.
“I have to go,” Johanna mumbled, trying to push past him. But Colin still held on, pulling her back, this time straight into his arms. Warmth engulfed her, and for a moment, Jo wanted nothing more but to close her eyes and lean her head against his shoulder.
This was Colin. He knew her better than anyone in this world. He saw what went on in her head even when she did not say a word. Heavens, he knew her better than she knew herself. And he dared to speak his mind. If only she could be as daring as he!
“No, I have to go,” she insisted, fighting not only against his hold on her but also her own desire to simply admit the truth and act on it. When he would not let go, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, let me go. I’m betrothed.”
The moment the last word left her lips, Colin tensed, and yet, his embrace was as gentle as ever. “But you don’t want him,” he whispered. “You want me.”
Jo could feel her heart hammering in her chest…with fear as well as temptation. “But…but he’s good for me.” Although she knew now that she had missed Colin with all her heart these past four years, he was a constant reminder of the loss they had suffered. And as long as she could not make her peace with the past, she could not bear to look at him in the years ahead.
Colin’s jaw hardened, and she could see resignation fall over his face. “I came to London,” he whispered, his voice raw, “to ask for your hand.”
Jo closed her eyes, her head sinking forward until her forehead came to rest upon his chest.
“Of course, the choice is yours. If you do not want me, I will go.”
Panic swept through Jo in that moment, and her head flew up, her eyes finding his.
“Do you want me to go?” he demanded, his arms tightening on her as though no matter what her answer would be, he would keep her by his side.
“I gave my word, Colin,” Johanna whispered as tears streamed down her face. “I cannot break it. I could not live with myself if I did. It would always stand between us.” She shook her head in resignation. “I cannot break it.”
For a long moment, Colin looked at her as though time had stopped. Then one hand grasped her chin, and for a split second, his gaze dropped to her mouth. “But you want to,” he said, his voice harsh and full of agony.
For a brief moment, Johanna closed her eyes before she met his gaze once more, her heart daring her to be honest…even if only this one time. “Yes.”
Colin swallowed, and his gaze hardened with determination.
Johanna was not certain what she had expected. Passion. Fire. Heat. Perhaps. But the agonising tenderness with which Colin placed his lips on hers stole the breath from her lungs. The tips of his fingers brushed over her cheek, teasing the sensitive skin below her ear and down the column of her throat. His other arm held her tightly in his embrace, safe and loved, while his lips whispered of the joys of a shared future.
A dream that could never be.
Then Colin stepped back, and his arms released her. Instantly, an icy chill returned to Johanna’s body, and a deep emptiness filled her heart. Tears streamed down her face as she watched the sorrow in his gaze deepen and grow.
“I wish you only happiness, Jo,” Colin whispered, his voice choked with emotions. “You deserve to be happy whether you believe that or not.” Then he stepped around her and left the library, closing the door behind him.
Jo knew she would never see him again.
Chapter Twelve − Happiness Awaits
The following weeks were a blur to Johanna, and she was grateful that Brendan’s mother took over planning her wedding as she herself would have been utterly overwhelmed by the myriad of decisions that needed to be made even under normal circumstances.
Colin had left town only days after they had last spoken, and Johanna had done her utmost to pretend that he had never even come to see her. Although her grandmother tried to broach the subject, Johanna’s vehemence soon ended the discussion. After all, there was no use in crying over spilt milk. Was that not what people said?
With each day that passed, Johanna’s heart grew more resilient, shutting out everything that threatened to offset the delicate tranquillity she had found by way of separating herself from that part of her that only served to cause her pain. She willed herself to smile and laugh and reminded herself to be happy and to remember how fortunate she ought to consider herself.
After a while, a part of Johanna started to believe that she truly was.
Before long the night of their engagement celebration arrived, and Johanna found herself standing b
eside her betrothed, welcoming family and friends to join in their joy. The smile on her face reminded her of the time her mother had pushed her to meet London’s eligible bachelors−had only a few weeks passed since then? −but Johanna sternly ignored all thoughts that did not serve a purpose. Instead, she concentrated on their long line of well-wishers, graciously accepting their congratulations.
“Are you all right?” Brendan whispered to her, his brown eyes warm and caring as they swept over her. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” Johanna insisted, the corners of her mouth curving a fraction higher. “I’m fine.”
Brendan squeezed her hand. “I apologise for my mother,” he whispered after accepting Lord Stanton’s well-wishes. “I know she can be quite trying. I hope her meddlesome nature has not robbed you of the joy of planning our wedding.”
“Not at all,” Johanna assured him as the muscles in her cheeks began to ache. “I’m fine.”
Then the next well-wisher claimed Brendan’s attention, which gave Johanna the chance to inhale another fortifying breath and at least for a brief moment relax her face, allowing the smile to fade.
“Congratulations, my dear. We wish you all the happiness in the world.”
Blinking, Johanna lifted her gaze, realising that her mind had momentarily drifted off to some far-off place where life was simpler and did not hurt as much. As her eyes focused on the elderly couple before her, the breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she was certain she would faint on the spot. “Thank you,” she mumbled as though in trance, “Lord and Lady Sawford. You’re too kind.”
Owen’s parents.
Right here, in front of her were Owen’s parents.
Johanna’s jaw began to quiver as her gaze swept over Lady Sawford’s kind blue eyes, not as bright and joyous as she remembered them, but with a silent strength that spoke of a tragedy suffered…and survived. Her husband bore a similar look in his eyes, and the way his wife's hand rested on his arm, his hand not only covering hers, but holding on, spoke of a deep bond.
