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Jacob shook his head even as he reached for her hand. The touch of his strong fingers sent a different sort of shock running through her. With his other hand, he swept back his overlong hair. “It’s nothing—”
She let out a frustrated huff of air. Why did no one ever tell her anything? “I’m not a child.”
“Emily, you are both young and sheltered,” he answered with a frown. “It’s better if you just do as I say.”
That irritated her, which was a bit refreshing. She’d been sad, worried, fearful today. Anger made her spine snap straight. “You are not in a position to tell me to do anything.”
His frown turned into a scowl. “I am protecting you.”
“By treating me like a child?” she asked with a huff. In this moment, her old goal returned. She wished to know more, make decisions, take some control of her life. “I am nearly twenty and, it would seem, alone in the world. As much as I need protection, I could also use an education.”
He still held her hand and his thumb made a sweeping motion across the back of hers. The gesture of comfort was in stark contrast to his scowl and a flutter of fear joined the awareness, tightening her body. Despite her strong words, she was worried what he might be keeping from her that would be worse than what she already knew.
“According to Mr. Barrow, you have very little funds.”
She gasped, pulling her hand from his, her fingers coming up to cover her mouth. It couldn’t be true. “No funds? How could that be possible?”
Jacob shook his head. “Possible? I’ve no idea. Were there any signs?”
“Like what?”
“Did your parents fight a great deal, seemingly about expenditures?”
She couldn’t think of anything like that. “No. Not at all. They sent my brother on tour. They’d just purchased a new carriage. They were planning on opening the summer house and—” She stopped, searching her mind.
“Perhaps that was the issue? Overspending?”
Emily’s eyes fluttered closed and a hollow, sick feeling settled in her stomach. Could this day get any worse? “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me any of it.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
Her desire for independence deflated like a pig’s bladder. Give her the safety of a match. “How am I going to marry now?” She had no family and no financial backing. Is that why her mother had wanted her to marry Tinderwell? Because they needed money?
Oh, how she truly yearned for the security she’d just lost. Guilt washed over her for forever wanting to be out from under her mother’s rule. Had she wished this into being? It was a silly notion, but guilt still traveled through her for even thinking it.
“Well…” Jacob reached for her hand again, threading his fingers through hers. Her breath caught as her eyes widened. “About that…”
Was he going to propose? Her heart started racing again at the idea of being this man’s wife. He was so big and handsome, older and so much more experienced in everything. She’d had this fantasy about him ever since they’d met. He’d hold her close, whisper in her ear, press her close. Of course, he’d never noticed her, not the way she did him. She was always Ashton’s little sister, but the thought of curling into him filled her with an odd satisfaction. “What?” she asked, her voice catching on the single word.
“I told Mister Barrow that you and I were engaged.”
She blinked up at him, trying to understand. “Are you proposing?”
“No.” His lip curled as though the idea repulsed him. “I’m not the marrying kind. I lied for Ashton’s sake, but…” He glanced at her like she was offensive in some way. Like the idea of wedding her pained him.
Her spine, already straight, stiffened. Obviously, he still didn’t see her as anything other than his friend’s sister and not even attractive at that. Hurt radiated through her. “Don’t finish that sentence.” And then she pulled her fingers from his.
“I just needed to get information from him.”
Her lips parted. Did he not realize what he’d done? “But what if he mentions it to his other clients?”
“He won’t. You’re in mourning, so obviously we wouldn’t be able to proceed until your brother returned and your mourning period ended. Besides, I only implied…”
“How does that help me?” she asked, her hands landing on her hips. “You can’t escort me anywhere or it will confirm our engagement. You can’t financially contribute. All you have done is create the possibility that I am ruined when people discover that you did not go through with our arrangement.”
He scowled at her. “I am still a titled lord, handsome and sought after. My interest will help you.”
She snorted then, falling deeper into the anger. It helped. “And so humble.”
