Blake groaned. “It cannot mean anything. And even if it did mean something, it changes nothing.”
He glanced at the signet ring on his index finger. The mark of his house, the reminder of his vow to his father. He cursed, glancing up at the sky.
“What am I supposed to do?” he murmured.
There was no answer.
* * *
“Rochester, have you heard a word I just said?” Richard asked Blake a week later as they sat in the study in Glastonbury Castle.
Blake shook himself out of his reverie and looked apologetically at his friend. “I am sorry, I was a million miles away.”
“I was asking if everything is prepared at the church and if you have the rings?” Richard frowned at him.
“Yes. Fret not, Glassbury, everything is in hand.” Blake tapped his pocket. “The rings are safe.”
As he tapped his breast pocket, the image of Jane’s hand on his chest flashed through his mind. He could smell her perfume and found himself smiling at the thought.
Had it only been a week since they had shared the kiss? A week, and he had been unable to talk to her properly. Her maid of honor duties had kept her constantly busy, as had his duties as best man. Though they had seen each other in passing, neither had managed to say more than a few words to each other.
He felt an odd twist in his chest. Guilt and pleasure warred within him, and he shook his head.
I should not have done that. God, I should not have kissed her. Why do I still want to kiss her?
“Rochester, you’re doing it again.” Richard frowned at his friend. “Honestly, you are so distracted that anyone would think you were the one about to get married.”
“My deepest apologies, Glassbury. I… Do not worry, I will pull myself together.” Blake tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace.
“It is clear that you have something on your mind, and I have the sense that until you talk about it, you will be next to useless to me.” Richard shook his head, though his words were said kindly.
“It is nothing.” Blake tried to shrug him off.
“It is clearly something,” Richard insisted doggedly as he handed him a glass of whiskey. “Look, it is my wedding day, and I need you to focus. Besides, I am nervous, and I suspect hearing your woes will be a good distraction.”
“What have you to be nervous about?” Blake asked, trying to change the topic.
Richard paled. “What if Cressida changes her mind? What if I forget what I have to say?”
“All you have to do is repeat after the priest, and I doubt Miss Minton will change her mind. The scandal alone will likely make her go through with it.” Blake could not help but think of the scandal his own behavior could have caused.
She would have been ruined if anyone found us… And I could never offer her what she needs. I cannot break my oath—I cannot let my father win.
“Well, that is hardly a comforting thought.” Richard took a swig of his drink.
“Miss Minton loves you, and you love her. You are getting married in a few hours—just enjoy it.” Blake clapped him on the back, trying to force the image of Jane out of his mind.
“If this is your idea of reassurance, I have to say it is lacking.” Richard frowned. “Look, just tell me what is on your mind. Please.”
“You must swear not to tell a soul. No one can know.” Blake glanced around them, even though there was no one else in the study.
“What have you done?” Richard’s voice was wary.
“I—please, Glassbury, just swear to me you will tell no one what I am about to tell you.” Blake looked at Richard imploringly, and something of his concerns must have shown on his face.
Richard sighed and said, “Very well, I swear that I will tell no one what you tell me. You have my word as a gentleman that nothing we speak of will leave this room.”
“I have done something very foolish.” Blake ran a hand through his hair.Richard will be furious with me, and rightly so.“More than foolish. I have… I have been selfish.”
