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‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured. But she wasn’t thinking of the dress so much as the way she felt when Jack looked at her that way. He made her feel proud and strong, revelling in her feminine power. No-one else had made her feel out of the ordinary the way he did.
‘It would be perfect for Freya and Michael’s official wedding,’ he murmured.
He was right. The spectacular dress would fit right in at the royal wedding of the decade.
‘I’m not sure I’ll go.’
‘Of course you’ll go. She’s your best friend as well as your cousin. She’s counting on you.’ Jack scowled. ‘Is it because of me? Because you don’t want to be seen with me?’
‘No. Well, partly.’ She paused. ‘I don’t want to detract from her special day with negative press attention. If we were seen there together it would escalate the speculation about us and the baby. I know we were photographed today, but the wedding will be on a completely different scale. It will make things harder, dredging up speculation that we’ve reunited.’
Jack surveyed her steadily. ‘Nothing will detract from the spectacle of the royal wedding. I hear from Michael that it’s going to be magnificent.’ He paused, his gaze skating back to the beautiful dress in the window. ‘If it makes a difference, I won’t go. I don’t want to spoil the wedding you’ve been looking forward to. I know how important Freya is to you.’
Shock was a physical weight careering into Bess, making her sway. ‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Yes.’ He kept his attention on the display. ‘Why not try on the dress?’
Bess stepped closer, reached for his hand and tugged so he turned. Long fingers closed around hers and a shiver rippled up her spine. It wasn’t sexual this time, or not completely. It was familiar, warm and comforting.
She realised this connection was an aspect of their relationship she’d missed. It undercut her earlier certainty that Jack only used her for his own ends and hadn’t really cared. He cared about her, more than she’d given him credit for.
‘Michael means a lot to you too. You can’t miss his wedding.’
Jack shrugged. ‘He’ll understand.’
She shook her head. ‘This is wrong.’ She’d seen the friendship between the two men had grown into something deep and strong. Jack didn’t have many close friends. Apart from Michael he seemed to have business acquaintances and beyond that the inevitable sycophants, trying to get his attention.
She recalled what he’d told her of his past, his criminally negligent parents and a grandmother whose approval seemed to hinge on success.
‘You want to go and he wants you there.’
Jack turned, his gaze searing hers. ‘I don’t want you uncomfortable with me attending too.’
Bess stared, bewildered by what she saw in his eyes. Could it be...hurt?
Because she didn’t want to be seen with him?
She accepted his help when she needed it but what did she give in return?
She thought of the strain he’d weathered when she left him and dropped out of sight. He was strong and capable but that didn’t make him immune to hurt. He’d been the one left facing the gossip while she’d sheltered out of sight in her rural classrooms.
Besides, she didn’twanthim hurting. That realisation had been building for so long and had only intensified on hearing about his past.
‘Freya and Michael want us both there,’ she said. ‘We both want to go.’ She threaded her fingers through his. ‘Let’s go together.’
For a moment Jack didn’t react, though his scrutiny seemed more intense, making her blood sing in her veins. ‘Even if the press concludes we’ve reunited?’
Bess shrugged, ignoring the stiffness in her shoulders, anticipating the clamour and speculation. ‘Let them think what they like. They will anyway. What they print doesn’t matter. Our future and our baby’s future is up to us.’
Strange how easy it was to be confident with Jack beside her, his grasp warm.
A slow smile spread across his face. ‘My thoughts exactly. So, are you going to try on the dress?’
She shouldn’t. She had no job, no income, no permanent home, and though Jack would help with support for the baby, she bought her own clothes now and anything in this boutique would be beyond her budget. Jack had arranged for her clothes to be sent on from her London flat but there was nothing there suitable for a royal wedding.
‘If it’s a matter of funds—’
‘Thanks for the offer, but no.’ She had her savings. She released his hand. ‘I won’t be long.’
