Charming the Elusive Earl (Charmed By Chance #2)

Chapter 9

9

A bird squawked nearby and flew off into the night at Marlin’s outburst.

Jane could only gape as he scrubbed a hand over his mouth, and they both avoided looking over at the other guests on the veranda. The Earl because he seemed to be doing his best to gather his wits, and Jane because…

Well, because she couldn’t look away from her fiancé.

After eight months of seeing nothing but hard resolve and cold glares—with only glimpses of any sort of emotion—she was rather dazzled by the sudden display of feelings he couldn’t seem to hide.

She was dazzled and…horrified. Much like being torn between excitement and nerves, only much, much more terrifying. Because while she’d seen a myriad of emotions flicker across his expression after her speech, above all else, he seemed to be…angry.

Her breath caught and she took a step back, but stopped short when he spoke again. “You are frightened.”

Of course she was. She suspected her expression said as much.

His brows lowered. “You’re frightened…of me.”

She pressed her lips together. It hadn’t been a question.

His muttered curse made her stiffen, but a second later he was moving closer and her breath left her in a rush when he stopped just short of touching her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

His voice sounded strained. Pained, even.

She swallowed. “I-I know that.”

“Do you?”

She didn’t answer.

No. She didn’t know anything anymore. She’d never suspected for a moment that Marlin was capable of such intensity of emotions. But right now that was exactly what she was seeing.

Emotions. Too many for her to name, and all directed at her.

“You’re angry with me,” she whispered. “You have every right to be?—”

“No!” he interrupted. And for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, they stared at each other in tense silence.

“No,” he said again, and this time he scrubbed a hand over his face. A gesture so vulnerable and so…human, she found herself blinking rapidly up at him.

“No,” he repeated, firmer this time and his gaze fixed on hers. “I am not angry with you.”

Her shoulders sank a bit, but that knot in her chest remained firmly in place.

“I’m angry with myself.” He muttered it in such low tones, she nearly missed it.

“Pardon?”

“You wish to end our engagement,” he said. “Why?”

She frowned. Hadn’t she been clear in her speech? By the way he was studying her, she assumed she had not. Maybe she’d spoken too softly and he hadn’t heard?

Uncertain what else to say, she found herself repeating her speech word for word. She trailed off quickly when he sighed.

She wasn’t sure if the sound was exasperation or amusement, but as she’d never heard either emotion from him, either way, it left her feeling shaky.

They regarded each other in silence for another long moment.

This man before her…? She felt certain they’d never met. He bore no similarity to the unfeeling lord she’d met with for a quarter of an hour every month.

Shifting from one foot to another, she wallowed in uncertainty... Until irritation flickered and flared to life again, just as sudden and fierce as before. “I could ask you the same.”

He frowned. “Pardon?”

“You want to know why I’d like to end our engagement.” She tilted her head up to meet his gaze evenly, letting him see her annoyance. “Well, I’d like to know…why do you wish to marry me?”

His mouth opened and closed, but he didn’t speak.

This ripple of hurt that swept through her was ridiculous. It wasn’t as though she’d expected some declaration of love. But the fact that he was clearly struggling to come up with one single reason he wished for her to be his bride…

She swallowed hard to shove down the pain. Too late, though. Because he’d seen it. And his answering wince of regret heaped embarrassment upon her pain.

“I asked for your hand because I thought we’d be a good fit,” he said.

He sounded so stiff she couldn’t help but glance up again, and…

Yes. There he was. The man she’d seen every month like clockwork.

“I see.” She forced down her own emotions so she could face him with the same apathetic stare. “Well, I suppose it must be clear to you now that you were wrong.”

“It’s not.”

She frowned at his haughty tone. “It’s not…what?”

“It’s not clear to me. You say you wish to end this engagement but your reasons are not clear.”

She blinked so many times she must have looked like a butterfly attempting to take flight. “My apologies.” Her own tone was just as stiff. Just as cold.

She barely recognized her own voice. But a spear of satisfaction shot through her. No, it was pride. She lifted her chin even further. For once her voice wasn’t quivering and she wasn’t fighting to meet his gaze. “I thought perhaps my actions the other day would have made it clear?—”

“Running away, you mean?”

“Yes. I thought perhaps you’d seen that I am not the lady you thought?—”

“If you think you have disappointed me in some way, you are mistaken.”

She stiffened. This newfound anger was such a blessed relief after eight months of dread and fear. She clung to it fiercely. “So you still wish to marry me then? Even after I’ve made it clear that I don’t wish to marry you?”

He flinched. The expression was so small she nearly missed it, but she didn’t miss it. And she despised the guilt that flared in response.

She owed him no particular kindness.

And yet, it wasn’t in her to be unkind. She glanced away. “Forgive me. I never wished for this to be…ugly.”

He didn’t answer, and she glanced up to see him studying her again with narrowed eyes like she was a riddle. “What did you wish?”

To get out of this blasted engagement! She cleared her throat. “To speak plainly. For once.” She’d added those last words under her breath, but he caught them.

“Yes. Perhaps you’re right,” he said after a long moment. “I’m beginning to realize I do not know you at all.”

Her exhale sounded too loud in the silence between them. She feared it gave away too much.

“Say it,” he said, his tone so sharp she jerked in response.

“Say what?” Honest confusion laced her voice.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking. If we’re to speak plainly, then please, just…say what you’re thinking. I cannot read your mind.”

Her lips trembled, with fear or rage? Who could say? But then she blurted it out all in one quick breath. “You say you do not know me, but…whose fault is that?”

She drew in a deep breath and stepped closer. What did it matter if anyone saw them so close, so intimate. They were engaged, were they not? And if she had her way, soon she’d be jilted and ruined.

Her father would be disappointed, her aunt would rant and rail. But in the end, she’d be sent away to the country. A spinster on her own.

And that…

That sounded rather lovely. Especially in comparison to her other option.

“Whose fault is it that you do not know me?” The words came out startlingly clear. Each word overly enunciated as she did her best to keep her spine rigid and her chin from trembling. “For the eight months we’ve been engaged, how much time have we actually spent together? How much interest have you taken in the woman who’s meant to spend the rest of her life at your side?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t respond at all.

“You do not know me, my lord. And I most certainly do not know you well enough to pledge my life.”

She tried to remain as calm as him, but her chest was heaving, as if years of restrained emotions were trying to escape at once. But she drew in a deep breath and fixed him with a glare she hoped rivaled his. “And so I ask you again, my lord. Why do you wish to marry me?”

He remained silent for far too long.

Too long for her to have any hope that he’d say something—anything—to appease that ache in her chest. Too long for her to hope that maybe, against all odds, he’d seen something in her worth wanting. Something worth fighting for.

“Your father made it clear that he wished to form an alliance,” he started. “And as I shared the same goal, it seemed a good match.”

She nodded, swallowing another wave of ridiculous emotion. It was her pride that was smarting, that was all. “Yes. Well. Unfortunately, you will both have to make do with merely being neighbors. I cannot say I regret placing my own happiness above property lines.”

He didn’t flinch. There was no sign at all that her blow had landed.

Which was likely for the best. She might have regretted the harshness of her words if he’d shown any sign of weakness.

And then, all at once he blurted out, “I saw you.”

She froze. “Pardon?”

He tugged at his cravat. “I saw you when I came to visit your father. It was shortly after I’d inherited the title and your father was kind enough to give me some much needed advice. I wasn’t prepared, you see. No one expected me to become Earl.”

She found herself unable to look away. This was the most he’d spoken—about anything other than the weather, at least—in all the time she’d known him.

And he was talking about how his brother had died so young and so unexpectedly. She’d feel sympathy if he were to show any sign of grief or sadness. But his tone was the same as ever. He sounded unmoved. Maybe even bored. “I saw you that day, sitting in the library reading a book.”

She frowned. Had he? She couldn’t recall any such encounter.

“You did not see me, and your father wasn’t with me to make introductions so we did not meet on that day.”

He fell silent for so long, she had to prompt him to continue. “And?”

Surely he had a point…didn’t he?

His throat was the only thing that moved. “I found you beautiful.”

Said so simply, he might have been commenting on the weather as usual.

But no. Surely she’d heard him wrong. Her brows drew down. “You…you did?”

“Inordinately so,” he added. “I thought you were the most beautiful lady I’d ever seen.”

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. For a heartbeat she was sure his dark eyes were burning into hers, and her heart gave another loud thud.

But then he glanced away, a muscle in his jaw twitched, and his tone was once more bored and bland. “I was in need of a wife, and as I said, your father made it clear he wished for an alliance.”

His voice trailed off. He didn’t shrug, but he might as well have.

Fury. Irrational, overwhelming anger was back once more, made all the more hot and swift given the pendulum of her emotions.

For a moment there she’d actually thought maybe he saw her. Or saw more than just…just…

“I see.” Her voice was quiet, but his head snapped to the side so he could look at her.

“You do?”

“I understand now why you chose me.” She nodded, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking. “Indeed, I have felt the same.”

“You have,” he repeated. There was no hiding his disbelief. Or perhaps he was just not fool enough to fall for the pleasant tone of her words and could sense the fiery anger beneath.

No one ever accused him of being dimwitted.

“Of course,” she said, forcing a smile.

Normally she’d cower to be the center of attention, even if her only audience was one man. This man, in particular, typically made her want to tremble and run. But right now her anger was stronger than her fear, and the shadows on this veranda hid her well enough that she felt oddly safe.

Her voice came out clear and even. “I felt the same the first time my father took me to a store and let me pick out a doll.”

His brows fell, but she wasn’t done.

“I thought it was the most beautiful doll I’d ever seen, and so my father bought it, and it was mine. And do you know what I did when I got home?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I set it on a shelf where I could see it whenever I chose.” Her gaze collided with his. “And that is where it has stayed ever since.”

“Jane,” he started.

“But you see, I am not a doll, my lord. You cannot stick me on a shelf and leave me there so you might look at me when you please.” She pressed her lips together, annoyed beyond belief at the tears that choked her voice.

She’d never wanted him to see how much his apathy toward her hurt. How much her pride and her feelings had suffered at being ignored for eight months. At how helpless she felt every time he left her there, knowing her fate rested in the hands of a man who didn’t care for her one whit.

She must have let him see too much, though, because when she looked up, she saw him watching her with fire in his eyes.

But for the life of her she couldn’t say what the emotion was that darkened his gaze. Was it anger? Concern? Something else entirely?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She’d made up her mind. She’d rather be ruined than left to rot.

“Jane…” When he reached for her, she pulled back. A silence fell, and in that silence she heard her heart thud once more. But this time it wasn’t with panic or nerves.

It was resolve.

It was satisfaction.

And maybe…all right, yes. Fine. It was terror, too. But she tried her best not to show it.

When he finally spoke again, his gaze was dark and fiery, but just as unreadable as ever. “What is it that you want?”

Her lips parted in surprise. Of all the responses she’d expected, that had not been one of them.

He stepped closer. “I understand that you are unhappy in this arrangement. And that you do not want a future with me.” His calm, even tone made her skin burn with irritation.

“So then,” he continued, and every inch of him screamed powerful, intimidating, and in charge. “What do you want?”

The air left her lungs in a rush, and for a moment she was blinded by her anger and disbelief.

Anger because…how dare he be so calm even now when she was ending their engagement? And shock because…

What do you want?

No one asked her that. In all her life, she couldn’t remember anyone ever asking what it was that she wanted. She was told what she wanted. What she ought to want, and what was wanted on her behalf.

But no one had ever asked her what she actually wanted.

And for a moment she couldn’t speak. “What do I want?” A lifetime of fantasies and daydreams came rushing to the surface, crowding her mind and making her chest ache. She found herself speaking in a breathless rush. “I want to be swept off my feet. I want to dance in the rain when no one is watching, I want to spend an entire afternoon under the sun, and walk barefoot along a creek. I want just one society outing where I don’t hear whispers and laughter at my expense. I want to read whenever I wish, and say no to visitors. I want…”

I want freedom.

I want a life of my own.

I want…

She swallowed hard as unexpected tears welled. The Earl was still watching her. Silent and focused solely on her as if there were no one else out here on the veranda.

But they weren’t alone, and Jane tore her gaze away to make sure her embarrassing outburst hadn’t been overheard.

The others seemed too wrapped up in their own conversations to pay her much mind. When she turned back to Marlin, she nearly drowned in a wave of humiliation at his unfazed look, his unflappable air.

He didn’t truly care what she wanted. He’d no doubt meant, what could he do to make her once more biddable? How could he appease her so she’d go back to being the quiet mouse in the corner?

She forced herself to lift her chin and meet his stare. “As you no doubt understand by now, we entered into this agreement on false pretenses. I am not who you thought I was, and so you must see that we are not…how did you put it? A good fit.”

She smoothed her skirts. There. She was done.

She’d done it.

Jane took a step away from him, fighting the urge to run. The air seemed to grow infinitely colder without the warmth of his body beside hers. “Perhaps a more dutiful daughter would put her family’s wishes above her own, but I have never been the child my father wanted, and I’m certainly a disappointment as a niece.”

She heard the bitterness in her tone even if he did not. And she hated it.

She despised feeling like such a failure all the time.

But more than that she was so very tired of being disappointed in herself.

There was nothing she could do about not being a boy for her father, or an outgoing flibbertigibbet for her aunt.

But she could stop being a disappointment to herself. So she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I assure you, my lord, I would be just as much a failure to you as a wife. And so I must ask again that you end the engagement.”

“And if I don’t?” He sounded ornery. Argumentative.

“Then I will do it myself,” she shot back.

“Your father will never allow that.”

He sounded factual. Unmoved.

And this was the man she was meant to marry.

“You’re right, of course.” She’d never been close to her father, and she had no doubt that if she were to rebel, he’d force her hand. “But I’ve run away once to avoid you, my lord. I will not hesitate to run again if I must.”

She lifted her skirts and turned away, back to the ballroom.

Back to her friends.