Lord Dorchester raised a brow.
“I wish to keep my daughter safe and happy. If that is in Lincolnshire as your wife, then you may marry her,” Lord Dorchester said. “I’m certain Jasmine will agree.”
“Thank you.” Matthew took a shuddering breath and buried his head in his hands. “I hope you’re right.”
Lord Dorchester placed a hand on his shoulder, holding it there until Matthew lifted his eyes.
“The lesson is in controlling your temper, and not letting it dictate your actions. I married a high-spirited woman—you must be rational, because she won’t be. I hold you to a higher standard because I know you can reach it. You’re a good man, Matthew.” Lord Dorchester offered him a soft smile. “You have my blessing to marry my daughter.”
“I’ll be worthy of her, I swear it.”
“I know. And as far as what to do next—we wait for Jasmine to wake up.” Lord Dorchester’s expression hardened. “And we develop a plan for Duke Kendall.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cold air nipped at Jasmine’s bare toes. Half-asleep, she pulled at bedcovers, but they wouldn’t budge. Furrowing her brow, she tugged again. She blinked her gritty, burning eyes open. Dull blue light sifted through a gap in the curtains.
Why is my window there?
She reached out, searching the bed—and touched something solid.
Someone was lying next to her.
Jasmine screamed and shot out of the bed. Off balance, she slipped and grabbed for support, connecting with a bedside table. The contents fell to the ground with a clattering crash. Her heart pounded as if it might burst from her chest. She covered her ears against the agonizing ringing that seemed to originate from inside her head.
The person rose from the bed and came toward to her.
“Easy,easy,Jasmine.”
Matthew.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” he whispered. “You’re all right. Breathe.”
She scanned her surroundings. Darkness shrouded an unfamiliar room, but moonlight illuminated Matthew. He was barefoot, with his shirt untucked and his trousers loose at his hips. He approached her with raised palms.
“Where am I?” Jasmine shook her head. “Why am I…?”
“You’re in my house,” he soothed. “You’re safe.”
“How did I get here? Why was I in bed with you?” She wore a cotton nightgown that ended above her ankles, with daisies at the hem. “Where are my clothes?”
Her hair smelled of lavender soap. Not hers. Someone had bathed her. Images erupted in her mind. Duke Kendall’s laughter. Shadows. The taste of bile in her throat. Hands on herbody—
She burst into tears. She sank to the floor, hugged her knees to her chest, and screamed, “What happened to me?!”
Matthew sat in front of her.
“Jasmine?” he whispered gently. “May I hold you?”
She looked up and met his glistening, tender eyes. He opened his arms, and she launched herself at him. She threw her arms around his shoulders. Gripping his shirt tight, she wept in angry,wailingsobs.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. “God, Jasmine, I’m so sorry.”
She had spent her life sheltered, living in a world where no one could truly hurt her—and she had been proven wrong with a flick of a wrist. Matthew tried to warn her, but she didn’t listen.
“You were right. I was a fool.” Her tears soaked his shoulder, but she couldn’t stop. “You warned me, but I didn’t believe you—I didn’tknow.”
“No, it’s my fault. I left you alone. I should have—damn it. All I ever do is fail you.”
