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Chapter 13
Richard watched Jo the entire evening.
Of course, he pretended that he wasn’t. He exchanged old stories about his parents with Mr. Fowley, he smiled at his future fiancée, pretending to be in a good mood while his soul was dying a little inside.
Jo looked completely lost.
She was an actress. It was her job to hide her emotions or to portray them in a different light. And yet she seemed unable to hide the bleeding heart on her sleeve.
Richard felt her gaze bore through him every time he laughed. He felt her confusion every time he didn’t return her smile.
She looked gorgeous in her light red gown that hugged her body perfectly. The décolletage was a tad too revealing, making him want to kill anyone who looked her way. Her beautiful chestnut curls framed her face just so. And they bounced coquettishly every time she laughed.
She was a vision. And if he had it his own way he would never take his gaze away from her. But as things stood, he stole discreet glances when no one was looking.
He’d insisted on a short-lived affair just the length of the house party. But he had never taken into account the fact that his fiancée would be residing under his roof during some portion of this time. It was easy to contemplate carrying on with his affair and disregarding the feelings of his mysterious bride until she was sitting next to him.
And now that he’d exchanged family stories with his future father-in-law, now that his future bride sat next to him, he realized how callous he’d been with Jo.
He’d made no promises to her. That was true. But he’d shamelessly dragged her into this affair, knowing full well that the end was coming. And sooner rather than later.
It had seemed easy continuing thusly until he saw the pain in her eyes.
Somehow, somewhere in the midst of the tumultuous liaison, they’d started caring about each other.
He didn’t want to hurt Jo. He didn’t want her to feel humiliated in front of the guests of the house party and Richard’s family who now called her a friend. But he couldn’t let down his father’s friend whose only hope of digging himself out of poverty was marrying off one of his daughters successfully.
None of this was easy. But the pendulum had swung, putting things into motion, and there was no getting out of this situation unscathed. Somebody would get hurt no matter what he did. So the only thing he could do was minimize the damage… if he still could.
After the ladies had left the gentlemen to their port and cigars, after the gentlemen had finished their political discussions and were ready to reconvene with the ladies in the drawing room, Mr. Fowley leaned closer to Richard.
“Well, my boy. We’ve spent the entire day today talking about the past. How about the future?”
Richard’s heart started racing inside his chest. He felt as though it would burst. “Of course. This is the main reason you are here, is it not?”
The old man nodded. “I think it is time we signed the contract.”
Richard swallowed. Mr. Fowley was right. There was no reason to delay the inevitable. He was going to marry Miss Beatrice Fowley one way or another. There was no going back.
And if he did refuse, what then? He couldn’t spend his life in an illicit affair with Jo. It wouldn’t be fair. Not to her, not to him or his duty. And in the process, he would be damning his father’s friend to ruin.
Richard needed to marry. Not an actress but a respectable lady.
And the sooner he did it, the less he would torture himself about this.
He cleared his throat. “You are right. Let’s get right to it, shall we?”
Mr. Fowley beamed at him and jumped from his seat. The man was so happy that his daughter was getting married to an affluent viscount. Richard wondered if it mattered to him that the match was loveless and quite dreaded on Richard’s part.
Richard didn’t even know how Miss Fowley felt about the match. He’d sat next to her for the entire evening and she hadn’t said more than two words. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed what she looked like. Did she dread it, too?
He stood slowly. “Let’s go to the marquess’s study.”
* * *
Richard didn’t rejoin the house party after dinner. Every man had come back into the parlor except for him. Even the old gentleman with whom he’d spent most of the night chatting entered the parlor, his chest puffing out, an indulgent smile on his lips, but Richard was nowhere to be found.
Jo walked around the parlor, coming up with a plan. She had two days left to charm the viscount before the end of the house party. And if she failed, they would both go back to their regular lives except there would be a gaping hole in her heart where the viscount currently resided.
