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

by Addie Jo Ryleigh

  “How did you find out?” She wouldn’t insult him by pretending she didn’t understand his implication.

  “Even though my duties keep me occupied, I’d like to think I’m an observant man. Does he feel as you do?”

  Kate’s eyes dropped, afraid of witnessing Blackthorn’s pity. “I’m not sure.”

  With a single finger, he tilted her chin to face him. “I’m certain he does, Kate. You are hard not to love.”

  Her breathing faltered. Had he just admitted to loving her? If so, it would mean he was prepared to sacrifice quite a lot for her sake.

  No, Blackthorn wouldn’t lie. He was too honorable.

  “Kate.” He brought her attention back. “Don’t give up on what you want. No matter what your father says.”

  Oh, Lord. In the midst of Blackthorn’s support, she’d forgotten her greatest challenge. Her father wouldn’t be so generous. Even if Blackthorn stood by her, Father would not forgive her for throwing away the chance to marry a duke.

  “What am I to do?” Kate gestured wearily. “I’m not of age. He won’t let me marry as I wish.”

  “I think you are worried for nothing. Your father is demanding but he will understand.”

  She whirled around. “You don’t know my father. You saw him tonight. And for him, that was a good reaction.”

  “What of your mother? Will she come to your defense?”

  “No. Mother is content as long as she has half of England between her and Father. Even if it means she remains in the country and misses the Season.”

  Still chivalrous and trying to solve her problems when no longer obligated, he queried, “What of your sisters? I’m sure they will stand by you. It goes without saying I will do what I can.”

  His benevolence spiked her guilt anew.

  “What if I allow for you to have more time?” he offered.

  Kate blinked in confusion. “How so?”

  “We wait to tell your father we’ve ended our betrothal.” He smiled, clearly pleased with his secret plan.

  A stab of shame shadowed her relief. Why couldn’t she have fallen for Blackthorn? Things would have been so much simpler.

  “Why would you want to embroil yourself with my problems, especially if it allows me to marry someone else?”

  He raised a single shoulder in an offhanded shrug, one of the most casual gestures she’d ever seen him make. “My lack of emotion proves we weren’t meant to wed. Besides, I’m a duke. I would have been honored to have you as my wife and you are by far my first choice, but I’m not lacking options.” His faint smirk reminded her, duke or not, Blackthorn was still a man to be reckoned with, underneath his title. A man completely aware of his appeal to the opposite sex.

  Despite his generosity, being beholden to Blackthorn didn’t sit well. “I couldn’t repay such a favor. Not in-kind anyway.”

  Stepping nearer, he reclaimed her hand to give it a solid squeeze. “Kate, I’m not asking for anything. Though, who knows, there might come a day when you’ll be saving me from an unwise choice.”

  She managed a smile. “I hardly call you an unwise choice.”

  Blackthorn’s appeal shone through as his rakish smile lifted his lips and released a deep dimple. Without a doubt, this man would not be lacking female company in her absence. Even still, his handsomeness sent no butterflies to her stomach or heat flowing through her veins. Jackson held that honor.

  Jackson. Distracted by her discussion with Blackthorn, she had lost sight of what this all meant. She was free to choose. And there was no doubt in her heart, she would always choose Jackson.

  Would he do the same?

  Memories of his arms holding her, of him taking her to the highest of sensual peaks, flashed before her. She would not believe he could touch her so reverently and not care for her.

  Perhaps even love her.

  She made her decision. “If you are certain, I agree. We keep my father thinking we will marry until I can find a way to tell him differently . . . if I decide to tell him.”

  Chapter 21

  Fooling her father wouldn’t be an easy task. A setback Kate had quickly recognized upon rejoining him at the table the prior evening. Even Blackthorn’s extensive attempt at being convincing hadn’t truly pacified the man.

  When Blackthorn had taken his leave, Father’s countenance had remained cast in skepticism. As a result, today Kate found herself being escorted through Hyde Park by Blackthorn, trying not to gnash her teeth in frustration.

  “If you don’t wish to eat porridge the rest of your life, I suggest you relax your jaw,” Blackthorn chuckled at her side.

  He was entirely too chipper this morning. Which only dropped Kate’s already bad mood a few notches lower.

  “Easy for you to say. It isn’t your future holding by a thread.”

  He released the reins from one hand to give her clenched fist a solid squeeze. “You are not alone, Kate. I will not abandon you to the wolves. Certainly not to your father. Once you are ready to announce your decision, I’ll still stand by you.”

  She swiveled on the seat and faced him. “Even when I’d essentially be abandoning you?”

  His hand returned to the reins as he navigated around a parked carriage. “I already told you not to worry about me. Perhaps it is time for me to seize a less ridged life and embrace the comforting arms sure to be sent my way.” Free of the waiting conveyance, he sent Kate a sly wink over his shoulder. “Besides, we haven’t officially declared our intentions. Breaking our courtship might cause a ripple. Not a typhoon.”

  A typhoon would be tame compared to her father’s rage at her throwing away a perfectly good duke.

  “Does this mean you’ve decided?” he asked as he gave Lord Livermore a regal nod.

  Curious ears abounded in the park, and though fairly certain no one could hear their conversation, she whispered, “I have.”

  Silence encased Blackthorn’s carriage, leaving only the creak of the wheels mixed with the heavy trod of the horse’s hooves.

  “And?” Blackthorn finally prompted.

  “I’m choosing me.”

  His full grin was impossible to miss, even with him facing forward. “Though it leaves me without a wife, I’m pleased. You deserve to be happy, Kate, and if I’m unable to render you so, you are making the right decision.”

  Wish I could feel as confident. She sighed.

  “When are you going to inform your lucky gent you are a free woman?”

  Speaking of Jackson to Blackthorn kicked up anxious flutters in her stomach. Surely no man wanted details on the man his once-intended was abandoning him for.

  He turned toward her, an arched brow daring her to tell him what he wanted to know.

  “I’m not so sure my gent will think he is so lucky.” She hated how unclear she was of Jackson’s feelings. After all, his hands had roamed every inch of her body—and more. What if he didn’t share her affections and she was reduced to being another wicked woman doomed to live out her days alone?

  As if he had become her new favorite lady confidante, Blackthorn spoke openly. “I don’t see how he wouldn’t. You are quite the catch. I should know, I’d caught you for a short time.”

  Her heart clenched. “He isn’t exactly in the market for a wife. In fact, I’d say he isn’t looking to tie himself to one at all.”

  Blackthorn tugged on the reins, causing the horses to misstep. Quickly he loosened his hold until they regained a rhythmic pace. “Katherine Braxton, are you saying this man will not marry you? Please don’t tell me I’m enabling you to run off and live in sin.”

  She snorted at the affront pouring from him. The duke was content being her savior until her virtue was in danger. Little did he know he attempted to stop the rain after it drenched the ground.

 
“Rest assured, I have no plan to live in sin. I’m just not overly confident in him returning my affections.”

  Blackthorn regarded her skeptically, brows drawn. “Give me your promise.”

  Unable to hold in a smile, Kate anticipated the moment this man fell in love. As adamant as he was about not marrying for the sentiment, she knew otherwise. He was too willing to see to her happiness to ignore his own.

  With an affectionate pat on his arm, she replied, “I promise.”

  “Does he know you love him?”

  Kate stilled at the sudden question. “I never told you I love him.” It seemed odd discussing her feelings for Jackson without revealing them to the man himself.

  Blackthorn’s deep laugh turned a few heads in their direction. “Kate, you are breaking an engagement to a duke—a handsome one at that.” He winked at her. “Nothing short of love would entice you to do so.”

  Her mouth hung open and Blackthorn’s mirth grew louder. “I’m teasing you.” He sobered. “Your determination to defy your father convinced me. He is a formidable man. Not even I wish to upset him. Besides—and forgive me for waxing poetic—your emotions shine in your eyes. Just speaking of your bloke sends shivers of light through them. I’ve spent countless hours in your presence and never have you looked at me like that.”

  Kate absorbed his words. Why not shout her love for Jackson? He already owned her heart.

  Ready to take the plunge and admit it aloud for the first time, Kate opened her mouth . . .

  And just as quickly slammed it shut at the sight which met her shocked gaze.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jackson had no shiny new answers. He was still in England, enamored with a woman he couldn’t have, and—if one queried his father—more or less betrothed to the woman sitting beside him as they rolled through Hyde Park.

  Spending last evening with Lady Betsey hadn’t magically helped her produce a personality. It also hadn’t manufactured an escape plan for their outing today. In the end, he decided to work it in his favor. If his father thought Jackson was softening his stance on marriage, the old man would be too occupied trying to procure a daughter-in-law to prevent Jackson from partnering with Willie.

  Not even the demure, well-dressed lady at his side could shove Kate from his mind. She made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. The same feeling stepping foot on Willie’s ship had once evoked.

  Intent on keeping his thoughts on track, he turned to Lady Betsey. “Are you enjoying London?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cringed. He was becoming the very thing he hated. A boring, titled Englishman, only without an actual title. He had no desire to discuss the weather or the season. To be honest, he didn’t much care if his well-bred companion enjoyed the city.

  Not unless that lady was Kate.

  Damn it! Why couldn’t he be free of her? The lament locked him in place. Did he want to forget the feel of her smooth skin beneath his hands? Or the look of rapture on her beautiful face as his desire fueled her pleasure?

  The answer was immediate. Never.

  “Yes, I am.”

  The quietly given reply yanked Jackson’s mind from where it shouldn’t have wandered, and returned it to the lady at his side. Well, it wasn’t Lady Betsey’s fault he had no wish to be in her company.

  Determined to do better, he looked at her, really looked at her, and saw her for what she was . . . a young woman adrift in a world crammed with more obstacles than the darkest night in the thickest forest. Probably a pawn in her father’s game to marry her off, similar to his dilemma. Would it vex him badly to be an enjoyable escort for the duration of their ride through the park?

  Find your manners, idiot, he chastised himself.

  “What is your favorite place to visit?” He formed a pleasant, inquiring expression.

  Quiet for so long, he thought she wouldn’t answer. Finally, she spoke softly. “My favorite is the British Museum.”

  “You enjoy art?”

  Her voice became quite animated. “Sculptures, actually. The way the hard stone takes shape, yet one can almost feel the softness of the subject depicted.”

  Lady Betsey continued with her art lesson but Jackson ceased hearing her. In fact, everything ceased to exist except for the warm chocolate eyes locked on him from across the way.

  Kate. Always Kate.

  He didn’t like what he saw. Her hooded eyes appeared sad, lacking their usual fire. As they flickered to his left, he understood why.

  She’d misinterpreted him being with Lady Betsey. He gave his head a short shake, hoping she’d understand his meaning. He would never court another. For him there was no woman besides her.

  As Kate’s expression grew darker, he knew she hadn’t comprehended. He wanted to shout that she was wrong. He tensed to rise, desperate to yell the words.

  Then he noticed her companion.

  Blackthorn.

  Kate remained pledged to someone else. Someone who could give her the life she deserved.

  And she didn’t end her betrothal to the duke, even after giving herself to me.

  Jackson’s thoughts turned stormy, no longer desiring to ride through Hyde Park without a care in the world. The storm raging within him had extinguished any kindness he felt toward Lady Betsey.

  He needed to get away before he did something foolish, such as declaring himself to Kate as her future husband looked on, mocking him.

  Jackson interrupted Lady Betsey’s sonorous dialogue. “My apologies, there is something I must attend to. I will return you home.”

  If the abrupt end to their outing offended her, he hadn’t a notion, since his eyes held Kate’s gaze. Hers, miserable. His, without a doubt, turbulent.

  What gave her the right to be sad? She was marrying a duke. Her life was set. Since his newfound lack of enthusiasm to depart with Willie, his future was anything but settled.

  Nan’s story had given him nothing, for Lady Katherine Baxton would not be his soul mate.

  Intent on departing, Jackson forced his attention forward. Resolutely, he navigated through the slow-moving carriages until—inevitably—his curricle came alongside Blackthorn’s.

  Don’t look. Whatever you do, don’t look.

  He looked.

  And cursed himself. Without the distance, he realized her eyes weren’t sad, but pained. Even if he could proclaim, right then and there, Lady Betsey meant nothing to him, that he wanted Kate, it would serve no purpose. Too much stood between them.

  Mainly, the man sitting beside her.

  Yet he silently pleaded for her to forgive him. To believe in him and everything they’d shared. For her to know it had been true. And, though the realization stabbed him in the heart, everlasting.

  Even if their futures didn’t align, he wanted her to know the truth.

  Chapter 22

  Jackson’s final glance before he disappeared tore the breath from Kate. She grasped for something to hold onto before despair washed her away. Her fingers gripped Blackthorn’s leg. Propriety be damned, she held tight.

  What is he doing with Lady Betsey? A short sennight ago, Jackson had avoided society at all costs, and suddenly he was escorting a marriageable lady through Hyde Park. Had he lied about not wanting to marry? Had it been a ruse to seduce her?

  Her heart felt as if it might crack in pieces.

  “Kate? What is it?” Blackthorn’s voice penetrated her mind but with no air in her lungs, responding was impossible.

  Her head became light as she focused on the area she’d last seen Jackson. Her surroundings dimmed, fainting a foregone conclusion, when Blackthorn pulled the carriage to the side of the lane and turned to her. His hands shook her shoulders.

  “Damn it, Kate, speak to me.”

  Forced to face him, she met his eyes. His panic
broke through the haze engulfing her, yanking her back to her senses.

  Blackthorn scanned the area quickly before his eyes narrowed and he refocused on her.

  “You’re in love with Jackson Cooper.”

  Kate wished he’d framed it as a question. Anything so her foolish heart could deny the claim.

  She’d given her heart, her innocence, to a man who didn’t love her. Even worse, a man who appeared to be courting another.

  The realization sent blood rushing to her ears. Blackthorn’s lips moved but she couldn’t hear the words.

  He gave her shoulders another shake. “Kate. Look at me.” Their eyes connected and her head cleared. “Good. Keep focusing on me. We’re leaving.”

  Oh Lord, we’re creating a spectacle. People stared at them.

  Ever efficient, Blackthorn moved through the crowd, until they were traveling through a quieter part of the park.

  “Where do you wish to go?”

  Kate shoved down her rising panic, striving for inner calm. If she asked, Blackthorn—ever the gentleman—would forget the last twenty-four hours and continue with their courtship. She could set the mystical tree, Jackson, and her lapse of judgement behind her, then follow through with her duty, and marry a duke.

  Sadly, she couldn’t do it. Not because she loved Jackson—and even with her heart breaking, she knew she always would—but because if she did, she wouldn’t be true to her.

  If she’d learned anything the last few days, it was that she hadn’t been living for herself. Everything she’d done up to now had been an attempt to be the perfect daughter. To make her father finally see her.

  But Father hadn’t the capability to ever see the real her.

  Venturing from the ball and into the night, stumbling upon a tree that spoke to her in ways she hadn’t thought possible . . . Well, that was the truest thing she’d ever done.