“I will leave you to your . . . your . . . reunion.”
Chapter 8
Rebecca paced the lengthof her chamber for what seemed to be the hundredth time. She hadn’t left her room, too afraid she might run into Wicke. Another missive had arrived from Alexander Lance. This letter had expressed his deep ire at her lack of response to his first letter, the one still nestled between the pages of her sketchbook. Apparently, Mr. Lance had an urgent matter to discuss with her. A matter that could not wait.
What on earth had happened at Knightley’s that Mr. Lance could not handle on his own? Rebecca could not think about the troubles of unruly club members at a time like this. Her brother had shamefully meddled in her life. Wicke had proposed. A spark had lit in her belly.
Lawd, she could not believe Mason’s nerve.
Wicke and his untimely, shockingly inappropriate behavior she had considered at length. He insisted he had a clear head. He wanted to marry her since forever.
What was she to make of that? She couldn’t say, though she had arrived at four conclusions.
She could no longer use the word brother and Wicke in the same sentence.
The beast had kissed her. And she had found it entirelyrepulsivebreathtaking.
He wanted to marry her. Her heart skipped a beat every time she thought of it.
She could not marry Wicke.
How best to preserve their friendship, then? She cared for Wicke. She did not wish to lose him as a friend. But she could simply not wed him. There was Knightley’s to consider after all. And Wicke held one of the most prestigious titles in England.
Rebecca refused to give up Knightley’s.
And she refused to bring shame to any gentleman, especially Wicke, which left her more confused than ever. Why arrive at these conclusions at all? She hadn’t considered marriage, not since she had scraped all her savings and a portion of her inheritance to procure Knightley’s two years prior. Not until Wicke had blurted out his shocking proposal. She hadn’t thought of kissing beyond her first kiss untilhehad set his lips on hers.
Perhaps sheshouldtalk to Wicke. If nothing else but to clear the air between them and settle their conflicting emotions. As long as Wicke did not kiss her again, or blurt out lavish suggestions, they ought to be fine. Rebecca had to remain objective to protect them both. She still found the sudden effect Wicke had on her staggering. It’s like he tugged the strings of her heart whenever he walked into a room.
She shivered.
The look in his eyes when their gazes had locked before she had slipped away earlier. . .
No man had ever looked at her that way. But she could not forget that, before today, he had not shown interest in her. It was thus impossible to tell whether his sudden madness would be as fleeting?
Lord, she had to stop.She could not entertain this sudden fancy for Wicke. It was too dangerous. Because if she did entertain this sudden impulse of desire, where would it leave them when the madness passed? Where would that leave Knightley’s?
