“Good. I hate dithering myself, and we’ll get along much better if we deal with problems straight-on.”
“I shall pray you mean that.”
He scowled. “Of course I do. Please explain what’s vexing you. Have I upset you? If so—without even being aware of my transgression—I apologize.”
“I’ve been debating for hours whether to raise this topic. I had told myself to ignore it, but I can’t. If we don’t address it, I’m not sure what will happen between us.”
“I can’t bear to suppose you’ve been fretting. What is it?”
She took a deep breath, slowly released it, then said, “I know you’re besotted with Joanna James.”
He froze, his mind whirring as he struggled to choose a response. Should he deny it? Should he lie? Should he placate her and claim she was being silly?
“Why would you think so?”
“I’ve noticed your budding attraction for some weeks now, and you spent the night at her cottage.”
“You were spying on me?”
It was a stupid reply, and it slipped out without warning.
She didn’t admit she’d been spying. She simply stared, her expression unreadable. His cheeks heated with chagrin, proving his guilt. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined himself immersed in such a hideous encounter. From the instant he’d met Joanna, he’d understood that he was behaving contemptibly toward Roxanne, but he hadn’t been able to stop.
“I grasp that your private life is your own business,” she said, “but you are acting outrageously and right before my very eyes. I ought to pretend I haven’t observed your antics, but in light of your father’s treachery with your mother, I can’t help but be alarmed.”
Jacob was always incensed when his father was yanked into a discussion, and his first impulse was to lash out verbally, but she was trying to have a sane dialogue, and it would be petty to chastise her.
“You don’t need to be alarmed,” he half-heartedly stated.
“It’s easy for you to feel that way. It’s a tad more difficult for me. Your liaison with her seems to have spiraled to a dangerous level, and I’m not certain where it leaves me. You just arrived home from the navy, yet you’re fully enmeshed in an amour—while I am living with you and planning our betrothal party.”
“It’s not an amour,” he said.
“What is it then? You’re so fascinated that you’ll sneak out of the manor in the middle of the night to be with her.”
His cheeks grew even hotter. “I’m speechless and have no defense.”
“Once we’re married, what is your plan with regard to her? This can’t continue after I’m your wife. I could never tolerate such blatant disrespect.”
“I can’t give you an answer, except to say that I’m very embarrassed.” It was a paltry offering, but he couldn’t devise any other remark that might be relevant.
“Fine, you’re embarrassed. Are we still proceeding with the engagement? Or should I pack my bags and depart? Is that what you’d like to have transpire?”
She’d furnished the perfect opening to sever the engagement, but he couldn’t force out the cruel words. “No, I don’t want that.”
“Then what do you want?”
The question hung in the air between them. If he could pick any path in the world, he would alter himself into two men. One man would stagger forward with his very tedious betrothal to his cousin and the other would sinfully frolic with Joanna James.
After an excruciating silence, she said, “I should have bitten my tongue, but you’re behaving despicably, and I’m at a loss as to how I should deal with it. Can you advise me?”
“I’ve been very discreet,” he idiotically claimed.
“No, you haven’t. I know about it, and my opinion is the only one that matters.”
“I’m sorry. I’m bewildered over how to have a conversation like this. I’m being an ass.”
“I traveled from Italy to be your bride. I had a grand life there. The weather alone was reason to tarry, but I abandoned it all. For you.”
“I’m grateful.”
“Are you?” She scoffed with offense. “It doesn’t appear that you’re interested in marrying me—if you ever were. Perhaps you’ve been a bachelor for too many years. Is that it? Be frank with me.”
He blew out a heavy breath. “I can’t decide what’s best.”
“I’ve never assumed you’d fall in love with me, but I can’t wed you when you’re in love with someone else. It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“I’m not in love with Miss James.”
Thankfully, she didn’t call him a liar. She simply said, “I’m not a naïve woman, and I expected you to have affairs.”
“I hate to hear it. I’d like to suppose I’m a better man than you’ve envisioned me to be.”
“I think I should go to London for a bit while you figure out your mental position.”
“You don’t have to go to London.”
She shot such a vicious glare that she could have stabbed him with it. “If I remain here, will you promise you won’t dally with her again? Will you truthfully promise?”
He was back where he’d been during his quarrel with Margaret. He’d told his sister he would break off his flirtation with Joanna, and he had—for two weeks. He was treating Roxanne so badly, but he couldn’t imagine never seeing Joanna again. He couldn’t promise because, as he’d proved, he was incapable of staying away from her.
Why was that exactly? Was he in love with her? Roxanne had leveled the accusation, and he’d denied it, but he allowed the prospect to roll around in his mind. He’d never been in love, so he couldn’t guess how it would feel. If he’d been pressed to state his view on it, he’d have vehemently insisted there was no such emotion.
But if he was that deeply attached to Joanna, how could he and Roxanne trudge forward together? She wasn’t even his wife yet, and he’d already betrayed her.
He was stunned to have changed into such a randy, unrestrained rogue. What had come over him? And how could he return to being the steady fellow he’d been before he’d met Joanna James?
“I will dawdle until
