Once Upon a Lady (The Soul Mate Tree Book 8)

by Addie Jo Ryleigh

  She gaped at his dark head as he bent to review the papers on his desk. She’d been dismissed . . . and without an answer. Which was essentially his answer.

  If she didn’t comply, she’d be nothing to him.

  Chapter 19

  “Excuse me?” Surely Jackson hadn’t heard aright.

  “I’ve found you a wife,” Viscount Middleton repeated.

  Edward, snickering from the corner of the room, didn’t aid the situation.

  “You know you can’t just bring me a woman to wed, don’t you?” Jackson queried.

  The viscount bristled. “You are hardly doing anything to find one for yourself.”

  “You gave me a week.”

  “And you’ve done nothing with that time,” his father countered. “I asked you to join society, to meet and mingle. Instead, you growled and glared.”

  “I met. I mingled.”

  His brother broke into a full-out laugh. “Admit it, your social skills are abysmal.”

  Father intervened before Jackson could pummel his brother. “Silence, Edward. You are not one to talk given your propensity for chasing skirts. A pastime not likely to find you a wife.”

  Edward merely grinned. “I’m looking. Just so happens I might have found myself one.”

  At this, Jackson spoke up. “Is she aware of her impending doom?”

  To his irritation, Edward continued to smirk. “Since she practically asked me for my hand, I’d say she is aware.”

  “I’ll deal with you later, Edward. I can only handle one disobedient son at a time.” Their father’s voice rumbled through the room.

  With no desire for the conversation to return to him, Jackson hoped his father had forgotten about his insane decree.

  To his chagrin, Father’s frown pinned him in his chair, destroying all thoughts of fleeing. “Now, about your future wife. She has impeccable breeding and an outstanding demeanor.”

  “Are you shackling me to a woman or a hound?”

  “The latter, if you don’t hold your tongue.”

  Jackson couldn’t remain silent. Not with his bachelorhood in danger. “What if I have other plans?”

  His father’s eyes narrowed. “What plans would those be?”

  Already in the thick of it, Jackson dug himself in deeper. “I want to travel the world.”

  “I would wager my life Willie incited this.”

  “It was my decision. I went to him.” A rift between the two friends was the last thing Jackson wanted.

  His father huffed a breath. “I should have known he’d fill your head with craziness.”

  “Again, it was my idea. Willie didn’t fill me with anything. He only offered me a chance to live my life as I wish.”

  “And I don’t?”

  Jackson laughed. Given the last fifteen minutes, how could he not? “You’ve instructed me to find a wife. Threatened me, actually. When I didn’t comply fast enough, you searched one out for me. Does that sound like allowing me to make my own choices?”

  “I’m your father. I know what is best for you. The life Willie offers is filled with danger and uncertainty. A married life in England would give you security, happiness.”

  “Whose happiness? Because it certainly wouldn’t be mine,” Jackson protested.

  “I won’t support it. If you make this decision, you will be on your own. You’ve never fended for yourself. What makes you think you can do it now?”

  Jackson’s temper flared. Just because he never had, didn’t mean he couldn’t. “I don’t require your support.”

  “You must need something or you wouldn’t still be here.”

  The truth kept Jackson silent. He did need something. One more allowance installment and he could pay Willie as promised. The old captain would let him sail without it but Jackson didn’t want any favors; he strove to be Willie’s equal.

  “Well, what is it? What keeps you on England’s soil?” his father pressed.

  Ready to reveal his need for the money, a small, rather annoying voice whispered perhaps the money wasn’t what held him back.

  Kate.

  If he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, Jackson swore he could still smell her on him. Having her wrapped in his arms had felt like acceptance, a new experience for him. Like a deep feeling of home and of belonging.

  He’d wanted to lock her in his embrace and hold her forever. Painfully, he had let her go. What choice was there? She was a breath from betrothal to a duke. He had nothing to offer her. He doubted her father would consent to her marrying the second son of a viscount. Especially a viscount who’d earned his title. Not when Kate’s father already had a duke in his pocket.

  Keeping her for himself would achieve nothing for either of them.

  But would it make me happy?

  The simple question resonated in his head. And not for the first time. He could spout to Kate about the legend of the mystical tree and how forces outside their control had bound them together; how they never would have chosen each other. Such drivel would all be false. He’d chosen Kate. His body had chosen, too . . . and last night they both had claimed her.

  Today was less clear.

  Whatever he decided, he first must contend with his father. Stomping out of the room as he so desired wouldn’t gain any favorable results. He needed to outsmart the man.

  “Who exactly is this perfect wife you’ve uncovered for me?” It won’t make a difference.

  “Lord Truell’s youngest daughter. Beatrice . . . or Barbara. Maybe it is Betsey.”

  Jackson quelled the urge to glare at his father. “I’m assuming her name starting with the second letter of the alphabet is the only thing you are confident about. I’d think you’d have done more research pertaining to the woman with whom you wish for me to spend the rest of my life.”

  “Does her name really matter?”

  “I think calling my future wife by her actual name matters quite a bit, especially to her.”

  “So, you agree to marry her?” His father never could ascertain heavy sarcasm.

  From his chair in the corner of the room, Edward guffawed. “I’m so glad I got out of bed this morning.”

  “Aren’t we lucky,” Jackson snarled at his brother. Turning, he confronted their father. “I agree to nothing, including marriage to the girl sight unseen.”

  “If you must, then court her. I don’t care, as long as in the end, you marry her.”

  The hard edge of the viscount’s voice sent a shiver of despair through Jackson. He feared his sire’s leniency in his life had come to an end. Should he have seen this coming when his father had issued his ultimatum? He’d been too confident in his ability to outmaneuver the old man.

  “They will be dining with us this evening.”

  Jackson’s jaw missed hitting the floor by only a few inches. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don’t be dense, son. You heard me.”

  “Yes, I heard you. I just cannot believe you took the liberty to invite Beatrice, Barbara—or perhaps it was Betsey—without consulting me first.”

  “I knew you’d object.”

  No longer content to sit while his father rode roughshod over his future, Jackson jumped to his feet. “Of course I’d object! This is my life you seem determined to control.”

  “One meal. Hardly cause for such dramatics.”

  Obviously Father saw nothing wrong with this proposition.

  “And if I don’t attend?”

  The viscount sat quietly for a second longer than Jackson liked. Nothing good ever came from the man’s silences.

  Finally, he answered, “I could end your allowance.”

  “Do your worst, you old coot,” Jackson muttered under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face, reining in
his frustration.

  If he wanted to sail with Willie as an equal partner, he could not afford to lose his temper.

  Abruptly, he stood. “It is only supper. I agree to nothing more.”

  Father’s final words sat ponderously in the room. “We will see.”

  Chapter 20

  The moment their esteemed dinner guests arrived, two things became crystal clear to Jackson. First, his intended’s name was indeed Betsey. Second, in neither heaven nor hell would he marry her.

  Even if he wished for a wife, Betsey would not be his choice. Her hawk-like nose wasn’t even the root of his aversion. Her personality won that battle without question. Intelligent, she was not.

  He might have been more charitable if she possessed an engaging personality to overlook her lack of brilliance. As soon as she’d opened her mouth to speak, all hope had been lost. Given how Edward had gleefully sent mocking grins across the dinner table, Jackson hadn’t been the only one to notice Betsey’s lack of redeeming qualities. Edward was thoroughly enjoying his only brother’s plight.

  As the meal progressed, Jackson stewed in silence, having no desire to attract his father’s attention. Striving to plow through this disastrous evening, Jackson vowed he’d dissuade the viscount from attempting to force a wedding. Or at least stall any proceedings with the socially-inept Betsey until he could sail with Willie.

  Jackson’s heart beat heavy at the thought of freedom from England and the shackles of society, so different from his desires of a mere week ago. He didn’t need to be a renowned scholar to decipher the source of his wavering emotions.

  Kate.

  A woman opposite of Lady Betsey in every way imaginable, Kate’s striking beauty first caught his attention. What he had discovered of her, when they were alone, enticed him further. Her spirit, her fire. The spark that drew him like a moth to a flame.

  She challenged him. Was it enough to sacrifice a plan long in the making, the one keeping him sane?

  Jackson glanced around the table. First from his father and the aging lord to his left, absorbed in deep conversation, to Lady Betsey sitting next to her mother. Would endless days, consumed by waltzing through the intricate steps of society, be bearable with Kate by his side?

  Then there was the matter of her betrothed. If he desired it above all else, he doubted he’d prevail over a duke. No matter, it had been his arms where Kate had found ecstasy; his kisses hurling her to the edge, then at his expert coaxing, over. Never again would he be able to ride in a carriage without becoming aroused.

  Memories of her soft cries, when she’d found her release, filled his head. Jackson shifted in his seat as his erection threatened to make an appearance.

  He had almost retained control of his lust when his father’s voice penetrated, effectively destroying all lingering thoughts of Kate’s sweet moans. “Jackson would be honored to escort Lady Betsey to the park tomorrow.”

  Forcing the scowl from his face, Jackson eyed his father, then shifted his regard to Lady Betsey. Leave it to Father to remember the girl’s name, now. His mind raced but sadly, without wounding the lady, Jackson couldn’t think of a way out.

  No more than a well-chaperoned ride through the park, he vowed, after which he would end this farce.

  Even if his father permanently cut him off, Jackson would not further the ridiculous idea of marriage to Lady Betsey.

  With expectant eyes watching him, Jackson had little choice. “It would be my pleasure.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Kate’s evening meal seemed plagued with problems. True to his threat, her father was determined to force the announcement of her engagement. In doing so, he had invited Blackthorn to supper in hopes of ending the stalemate. Or maybe to intimidate Kate into accepting her fate.

  She needed to see Jackson, to feel his arms around her. Everything would work itself out if only she could talk to him.

  The problem with her solution . . . Jackson seemed to have vanished. Bitter frustration churned within her. How was it that the day after taking her innocence, he decided to make himself scarce? No invitation to meet. No calling on her to see how she fared.

  Well, it wasn’t as if he could walk up to her door and ask for her. If he had, it was entirely possible her father would have exploded with anger. Something Jackson was wise enough to discern.

  He must be biding his time. When the moment was right, he would find a way to see her. She must have faith until then.

  Unfortunately, her father was turning what should be a simple task in patience into an impossibility.

  “Have you set a date yet?” he questioned as his stern gaze burned between her and Blackthorn.

  With her mother in the country and her siblings at their respective residences, the table held just the three of them. Which allowed her father more bluntness than was usual for him.

  Thankfully, Blackthorn spoke first. “We have not, seeing as there is no rush.”

  Her father cut in. “I’m counting on you to honor your word and wed the girl, Blackthorn.”

  When Blackthorn didn’t bat an eye at her father’s heated tone, Kate mourned her lack of love for her ‘intended.’ He would make a brilliant champion against her father. But she couldn’t sacrifice herself for the privilege.

  “With all due respect, the decision is between Kate and myself.” Blackthorn casually continued with his meal.

  Father’s fork clattered to his plate. “What does that mean? Are you casting aside my daughter?”

  “Father, please,” Kate begged, to no avail.

  “I demand an answer.”

  Unfazed, Blackthorn lowered his own fork. “Whether we choose to wed or not will be a decision between your daughter and myself.”

  Her father sputtered. “Of all the—”

  Outwardly relaxed, Blackthorn’s eyes hardened into a glare as he interrupted her father. “Your Grace, I hold your daughter in great esteem and I won’t have her browbeaten into making a decision not her own.”

  With war declared between the two dukes, Kate feared the evening would end with bloodshed. Even if her father conceded to Blackthorn, he wouldn’t be as benevolent to her. He could hardly call out a fellow duke.

  But he could disown her.

  Her father snatched up his fork. Stabbing at his meal, he growled, “Don’t forget, promises were made.”

  With that, conversation ended. But the warning had been heard, loudly. Clearly, at least to Kate. She doubted Father had intimidated Blackthorn.

  Blackthorn finally glanced in her direction. “Kate, may I have a word with you?” Her father opened his mouth to speak but Blackthorn injected, “Alone.”

  She hesitated, sensing Blackthorn wanted some answers from her. She also knew her father wouldn’t take kindly to being excluded.

  Time to take control of my life. “Follow me.”

  She didn’t look toward her father as she exited the room and headed for the front parlor, with Blackthorn on her heels. When he shut the door behind them, she flinched a bit. But there was no preventing her racing heart.

  Would he press her to proceed with the announcement? Had his patience come to an end despite what he’d told her father? She wouldn’t assign blame, for he’d been exceedingly generous.

  “Kate, does your father have cause to be worried?” Blackthorn asked without preamble. “Should I be worried?”

  As he stood near the door, she wanted to look away, only he deserved better. She met his regard. “I don’t know how you want me to answer.”

  He took a step closer. “With the truth. Just tell me the truth. I won’t hate you for it.”

  “Highly doubtful,” she muttered, then bit her lip at his low chuckle. How he could find humor in the moment was lost on her.

  “Kate, I’m not an ogre. And I’d like to think
I’m a reasonable man—”

  “I don’t think I wish to marry you,” she blurted.

  His brows rose but his face remained poised. “You don’t think? That is hardly convincing.”

  “I would like to want to marry you.”

  “Well, that is completely less clear. I’m glad you clarified.” His lips twitched, revealing how lightheartedly he was handling the situation when none of this was easy for her. Why did he need to develop a sense of humor when hers was plummeting?

  “What do you wish for me to say?”

  He stepped in front of her and grasped her hand between his. “Again, I just want the truth. It’s what we both deserve.”

  Torn, Kate pondered as she stood, her hand tucked in his. In all of this, Blackthorn was innocent. If anyone deserved her honesty, it was this wonderful man. But what of herself? Was this the moment for her to finally admit what she wanted?

  “Say it,” he whispered. “Set yourself free.”

  She peered into his eyes and found what she needed to see. He already knew she didn’t love him, nor would she. He had granted her permission to choose herself.

  “I don’t wish to marry you,” she choked out.

  Relief flooded her once the words were finally spoken, even surrounded by uncertainty. Yet where did she go from here? Even if she wanted to marry Jackson, he’d hadn’t proved he wanted the same. A possibility she couldn’t pursue if her father shipped her off to lands unknown once he disowned her.

  Blackthorn squeezed her hand before he released it. “That wasn’t so hard.”

  “Perhaps not for you.”

  “Oh Kate, don’t misunderstand. I would have married you. I still would if it is what you want. Our union might lack love, but I care for you. Your happiness is important to me. If I can’t give you that, I wish for you to find it elsewhere. With someone else.”

  At his last words, she realized Blackthorn knew everything. Well, maybe not everything; she doubted he’d be so understanding if he knew how intimate her relationship with Jackson had become. But he certainly knew her affections were engaged elsewhere.