Jenna flushed guilty and looked away from his regard. When she faced him a few moments later, her eyes had pooled with tears.
“Thank you for doing this for me, Ethan. I…thank you.”
It gutted him that she had kept it from him this long, for she believed he would not support whatever hopes she had. “I would not have forced you to wed him once you found him objectionable.”
“Truly?”
He tapped her chin in light affection. “Truly.”
“Oh, Ethan, I did not know it, and I spent the last few weeks terrified you would discover it and insist that I was compromised and—”
Perhaps it was something in his expression that faltered her words and brought that flush to her face.
“Did he compromise you?” he asked with lethal softness.
“I swear upon my honor I did not allow more than a few kisses.”
A few kisses. He silently reminded himself that Jenna was two and twenty, and it was normal for young ladies to ‘allow liberties’ with a man who courted her. “You must always be careful with your reputation. Once ruined, it cannot be recovered.”
“I know it,” she said earnestly. “I vow nothing will ever inspire me to write love notes or poems to a gentleman again.”
“You can write them…after you are married.”
A hiccupping laugh escaped her, and she walked into his arms for a hug.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she whispered, before pulling away and limping from the room, presumably to bed.
He made his way up the stairs to his chamber, trying not to think of a pair of lovely green eyes with golden flecks or her dry wit, bravery, and how much he had wanted to kiss her.