“It did.” How could she know what he struggled with, and him not saying a word? “I felt terrible, was extremely jealous. How could Drew with his arrogance and rage, convince a woman to marry him?” A growl had entered his voice. To cover his confusion and anger, he reversed his Bath chair and put distance between them so that her hand fell away. “Marriage is something I’ll never have. Where I would have appreciated such a thing, Drew never will.”
“You don’t know that for certain. Perhaps he’s changed in the time he’s been away.”
“Ha! Drew won’t change.” Finn shook his head. Darkness crept in to sit heavy on his shoulders. Depression whispered into his ear that he’d never be good enough, would never know any of what his brother had because no woman would want half a man. He took a shuddering breath while debating whether he should leave the rout early.
“There is nothing stopping you from wedding, if that’s what you truly desire,” she said in a soft voice that had him thinking of waking up next to her and seeing that glorious hair spilled over his pillows.
Bloody, bloody hell.What was this woman doing to him?
To cover his confusion, he snorted. “I’m paralyzed. Damaged. A waste of a man.”
She shook her head. “You can still love, laugh, contribute and be present. There is much life ahead of you.”
“Enough with your saccharine sweet outlook,” he all but hissed. Her eyes widened but he continued. “There are other… things I can’t do. Important things that a woman—a wife—will expect.”
“Oh, Finn.” Jane rose to her feet and shook out her skirts. The smile she flashed him held a sad edge, a pitying edge no doubt. “Physical intimacy is only one part of a bigger whole.”
While he wanted to lash out at her in anger, she who stood there in her very perfectness, a temptation to every man in that room, he tamped the urge. “It’s not fair!” he hissed, fearful of making a scene more than he already had.
A handful of people turned to stare from his outburst.
“Come with me.” Without waiting for consent, Jane took command. She slipped behind him and pushed his chair through the crowds and across the room. Easily, she guided it out onto the terrace. No one else took advantage of the night air, for a light mist of rain cooled his overheated face. At the stone railing, she turned his chair and then came to stand in front of him. “No, it’s not fair, but it is your life.”
“As if I hadn’t noticed.” God, he was acting the prick, but any man would when faced with the same facts.
Jane blew out a breath. “What I meant is why spend the next thirty years mourning what you’re not when you could live that time celebrating what you are?” She peered into his upturned face, but it was too dark for him to see what was reflected in her eyes.
Before he could respond, a dark-haired woman appeared at the doorway. “Jane, the Duke of Ballantrae is looking for you and the dancing will start soon. They’re getting ready to roll back the rugs.”
White-hot jealousy combined with cold bitterness to stab through his chest in duel attacks so intense Finn caught his breath and pressed a hand to his heart. It was only natural that a woman like Jane would want a man who could dance with her, stand up with her, be everything she needed him to be.
Everything I am not.
She glanced at the interloper. “Thank you, Fanny. I’ll be right there.” Once they were alone, Jane touched his shoulder. The diamonds in her bracelet sparkled in the dim light. “To the right lady, none of that will matter. Please think about what I’ve said.”
The words had the power to disarm his emotions and leave him gaping at her. How did she do it? How could she know what to say that would both feel like a call to arms and a soothing balm at the same time? But it left him wanting so much more from her. “I will.” He nodded. “Jane?” He caught her hand when she would have left the terrace.
“Yes?” Confusion echoed in that one-word.
“Just this.” Before he could think the idea through, Finn tugged her down. When her face was close to his, he took full advantage and brushed his lips against hers. This wasn’t the venue to kiss her as properly as he would have liked, but it was a start. At least she would know the gist of his feelings. As he released her hand, he said, “Thank you.”
“For the kiss or the conversation?” She pressed a gloved had to her lips.
“That’s for you to discern.” For the first time in a long while, a bit of joy rose inside him to beat back the darkness.
“I’ll call on you soon.”
“I…” Annoyance circled through his chest, for she was doing things that a man should—making calls, plans for a next meeting…
“Remember, Finn, a man who risks nothing, has nothing—is nothing—and will never grasp his own potential, different though it may look now.” The words were so low he had to strain to hear them as she moved toward the door.
Did that mean she wished for him to rise to the mark? Before his courage could desert him, he asked in a rush, “Will you come driving with me tomorrow afternoon?”
Delight twinkled in her eyes from the light of the room at her back. “I would like that.”
“Good.” He couldn’t contain his grin. “Look for me around three o’clock.”
“Enjoy your evening.” She fled the terrace, vanishing into the room beyond that suddenly teemed with activity as folks prepared for dancing.
Did that mean they were having a courtship now? His chest tightened with worry. Did he want that? She was chatty, nosy, and managing, but she felt like sunshine and… hope. Suddenly, he wished to return home to work on his writing, for she’d inspired him.
In more ways than one.
There were worse ways to spend his time.