Jessica Howerty fell for her brother's best friend when she was a young girl, and never quite recovered. Now, all grown-up, she knows that a disreputable rake like Jacob Hurst is the last thing she should want. After two seasons in London, she's tir...
"I must say she looks more beautiful every time I see her."
Jacob turned his head to stare at Gowthorpe. "What are you talking about?"
"Jessica," his friend clarified. "She's quite beautiful. And a rather good match too."
"What are you saying?" he asked warily, suspecting he wouldn't like the answer.
The other man shrugged. "I need to get married at some point. We're not all avoiding it like the plague."
Frowning, he decided it was best to point out the obvious, since Gowthorpe apparently wasn't thinking clearly. "But she's Pensington's sister."
"So? He married my sister, did he not?"
"Which you weren't thrilled about," Jacob reminded him.
"I've grown used to the idea."
Jacob turned his head back to look at Jessica standing with the group of younger girls. She looked quite bored. "She won't have you," he said. "She doesn't like rakes."
"I'm nowhere near as bad as you are. She's never complained about me." Gowthorpe grinned and waved at Jessica as she glanced over at them. Looking a little perplexed, she waved back.
"That might be so, but she's hardly unaware of your exploits. Not every rake has my reputation." He'd worked hard on that reputation, for better or worse. As a future duke, it was difficult to deter most marriage-minded debutantes, but with his reputation some of them steered clear. While their worry of being seen near him was somewhat amusing, it also frustrated him. What did they think he would do? Drag them out into the garden and ravish them? It wasn't as if he had no self-control. He would never seduce a young lady looking to marry.
No matter how tempting she might be. He watched as Jessica laughed at something one of the girls said, ignoring the pull to walk over to her. A couple of stolen kisses would be all he could ever allow with someone like her. Not only was she his best friend's sister, and the woman his father planned to propose to—she was everything he could never deserve. Nor would she ever have him. Through the years, she had made her disapproval of rakes—and him in particular—very clear.
"They say reformed rakes make the best husbands." Gowthorpe chuckled. "Perhaps I should try to convince her of this."
Jacob scoffed. "Good luck. I am quite certain she does not subscribe to that belief."
"Ah well." Gowthorpe nodded towards the stalls of goods and foods. "Care for a stroll?"
They walked around the village for a while, looking at the goods and having a pint at the local inn. When Gowthorpe ran into some old friends that Jacob didn't know, he continued the walk by himself. He soon found himself back at the bonfires where he found Jessica alone in front of one, so he joined her.
"Did they all abandon you?" he asked.
She turned her head to smile at him. "They were going back to play some more games. I didn't really want to join."
"Understandable. You lost pretty badly earlier."
"Only because you cheated!" She laughed, the sound warming him more than the fire burning next to them.
A wisp of hair had come undone, falling across her face to tickle the edge of her mouth. Without thinking, he reached out and tucked it behind her ear. She gasped and her eyes flew to his. Like always when he was close to her lately he felt the pull; the need to kiss her, but they were standing on a field with about a hundred people around them, so instead he took a step backwards. He resented this. Ever since that kiss in the hallway, he seemed unable to be anywhere near her without wanting to take her in his arms.
That she clearly wasn't unaffected didn't make it easier. She was staring into the fire again, rubbing her arms with her hands. He was used to the effect he had on women, so finding her attracted to him wasn't overly surprising. The force of his own attraction to her was what baffled him. It wasn't as if he hadn't known before the kiss that she was a beautiful woman, he'd just always made sure to only ever think of her as Pensington's sister. That one kiss had changed everything, and he could no longer cram her back into the box labelled 'friend's sister'. He liked his boxes. They made his life easier. Jessica, however, seemed determined to break out of every box he put her.
Never before had he struggled to keep his hands off a woman. What was it about this one that broke through all his defences? Was it simply because he knew he couldn't have her? Normally, he would just seduce any woman he desired, but with Jessica, that wasn't an option. No matter how much he might want to.
She shivered, and he gently touched her arm, taking any excuse—no matter how poor—to touch her. "Are you cold?"
"Just a little." As the evening wore on and the sun set, the air had become colder, and he could well imagine that her short-sleeved dress did little to ward off the chill. He straightened out the coat he carried and put it over her shoulders, turning her around so he could pull it closed in the front. She said nothing, but he could hear her slightly irregular breathing, and she didn't react when he let his hands linger a little longer than necessary on the coat buttons.
"There," he mumbled hoarsely. "That should help a little."
Looking up at him, she was silent for a moment while obviously pondering something. "I don't understand you, Jacob," she finally said.
"What do you mean?"
"You can be so nice to me," she explained hesitantly, her fingers sliding over the dark fabric of his coat, and he wished they were moving over his body instead. Mentally shaking himself, he forced his over-heating brain to cooperate and listen. "Sometimes I even believe we might be what one might call friends. Yet other times you are downright rude. I don't know what to make of it."
"I'm sorry." He made a face, feeling as if he did little more than apologise to her lately. Each one deserved. He had been acting like an ogre lately. "My mood is always bad when I'm at Holcombe. Or, more specifically, around my father. It's a poor excuse, and I will endeavour to do better. You don't deserve my ill temper."
She raised her winged eyebrows. "Another apology, Jacob?" she teased. "I believe you have offered me more apologies these last weeks than I have ever heard you speak in total."
"Don't get too used to them," he warned with a smile. "I can't promise to keep up this abominable habit."
"That will be a lot easier if you don't behave abominably."
He laughed. "Touché, my lady. Shall we return home?"
"Yes, please. I am rather weary."
"Let's find Olivia and we shall be off."
When they returned to Holcombe sometime later, Jessica and Olivia bid him a good night and went on upstairs. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few moments looking after Jessica's retreating form, wishing he could follow her to her chamber and do all the wicked things he'd been dreaming of lately. That wouldn't happen though. Couldn't happen. He shook his head with a wry smile. Maybe he ought to visit his pond for another cool swim soon.
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