“You cannot do this,” he hissed.
“Of course, I can,” Jane replied hotly.
“You must not do this.” He stepped towards her.
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” she shot back.
“A marriage of convenience… That… No… You deserve so much more than that.” Blake shook his head.
“It matters little what I deserve.” Jane wrapped her arms around her middle, her shoulders slumping.
Blake’s heart squeezed as he heard the pain in her voice. The pain filled him with an unexpected fury.
How dare anyone make her feel she deserves any less than perfection?
“It matters a great deal,” he said, his voice hard. “This is a mistake. Marriage is for life, you should not be shackled to some man you hardly know.”
“What other choice do I have?” Jane exclaimed, her own fury matching his. “This is my fourth Season. MyfourthSeason! Do you know what it is like?”
“I—” Blake began, but she cut him off.
“I have spent years trying to mold myself into whatever it was that the ton wanted, years trying to somehow be what men wanted. I have tried and tried, and nothing has worked.” Jane laughed bitterly.
“Then they are fools.” He clenched his hands into fists.
“They cannot all be fools, and I do not want to be a spinster for the rest of my life. I will not be a burden on my family.” Jane met his gaze.
“But what you are suggesting, a life without love—” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
This is wrong.
“What business is it of yours?” Jane shot back.
“I—” He took a step towards her.
She shook her head and moved forward, jabbing him hard in the chest. “You have no right to come here, to tell me how to live my life. You do not know the first thing about me.”
“I know more than you think,” he replied without hesitation.
“Prove it.” She threw his own words back at him, her eyes full of fury.
Her words were a challenge, and he knew it. He knew he should leave it unanswered, but he found that he could not. He found that he did not want to.
ChapterTwenty-Three
The Proof Is In The Pudding
Jane had thrown the words out as a challenge. For weeks, he had been goading her, needling her, teasing her at every opportunity. And now he had the audacity to tell her she was making a mistake?
How dare he!
“Prove it,” she said again, softer this time, her heart hammering in her chest while her blood roared in her ears.
For a moment, she thought that Blake would say nothing. She could not tell if she wanted him to say something or to stay silent. Tension seemed to crackle between them.
“Whenever you walk into a room, you find the person most in need of company and bring them into the conversation. That tells me you are kind,” Blake said, his eyes meeting hers.
“You hum to yourself when you are happy—usually something faintly tuneless, but nonetheless, you hum.” Blake smiled as though he were imagining her doing just that. “When you read, your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, and sometimes you mouth the words to yourself.”
