Chapter 18

CHAPTER

a

18

T heo tiptoed down the stairs in Jackson's town house. Recent events had left her bewildered and dizzy with dismay. She was just an ordinary female. With what had occurred, how was she to regroup in a sane way? It didn't seem possible.

Apparently, she was brazenly living with a handsome bachelor. It was outrageous conduct, the sort that could bring about a ruined reputation and public disgrace, yet what other option did she have? She didn't dare return home until Georgina and Arthur were tossed out.

She had Mr. Coswell and Jackson on her side to fight with them, and in her entire life, she'd never had a champion. Suddenly, it appeared that she had two.

After Jackson had settled her down for a nap, she'd been so distressed that she'd dozed off and had slept through the night. She'd awakened to several surprises.

He'd hired a maid to tend her, and she was an older woman who was sister to one of the veterans he employed as a footman. Then he'd sent a message to Theo's butler and he'd packed some necessary items for her. A bedchamber had been opened for her to use and the dressing room contained some of her belongings. Her new maid was competent and comforting, and chatty too over Jackson's busy efforts on her behalf.

As she crept down to the lower floors, she looked quite smart. Her hair was styled and she was wearing a pretty blue gown. She didn't feel very confident though. Currently, she had no home, no friends, no family, and precisely one trunk of clothes. She probably ought to admit that she was in dire straits.

Her biggest worry was that she'd bump into Jackson's mistress. She was now residing under the same roof with a notorious doxy, and she wondered if the tart was aware that Theo had arrived and that she'd slumbered on Jackson's bed. The trollop wouldn't like to have Theo on the premises. What if she demanded Jackson kick Theo out? Would he oblige her rather than quarrel?

"One calamity at a time," Theo muttered to herself.

She was in no condition to figure out any of the difficult facets of her predicament. For that moment at least, she had a place to stay and the aid of a man she adored and who had always been kind to her. It had to be more than enough.

She reached the foyer and a footman was there and watching for her. She was starving, and he escorted her to the dining room, claiming Jackson's cook was waiting on tenterhooks to feed her and that she should request whatever tickled her fancy.

Her maid had informed her that Jackson was out, dealing with some important errands, and they didn't know when he'd be back. They simply had instructions to spoil Theo and grant her every wish. She was telling herself it was a relief to have him gone. It meant they didn't have to converse right away, but she was incredibly nervous too about how they'd ultimately interact.

So far, she'd been a horrid guest. Because she'd been so exhausted, she hadn't come down the prior evening to thank him for his assistance or to join him for supper. When she'd finally roused, bright sunshine had been flooding in the windows. She'd been lazy and discourteous, and when she saw him again, what would they talk about?

She was so befuddled that she supposed, any comment that flowed from her mouth, would spew out like the babblings of a lunatic.

She had to make some plans and determine how to implement them, but she couldn't deduce how to move forward. She hated to seem like a weak ninny, but she was perfectly content to let Jackson and Mr. Coswell tussle with Georgina so she didn't have to.

She ate a hearty breakfast, with the servants falling all over themselves to ensure she had what she needed. Then she climbed to her bedchamber, scrounged up quill, ink, and paper and wrote two letters: one to Mr. Coswell, to apprise him of her location, and one to Charlotte.

She wasn't certain if Charlotte would receive it, but she wrote anyway. There were too many facts Charlotte had to learn, and Theo was desperate for her sister to travel to London immediately, so they could present a united front as Jackson and Mr. Coswell bickered with Georgina.

For a few minutes, she pondered her mother, who was still locked in the Scottish convent. She thought about drafting a third letter and mailing it to her, but the prospect was so upsetting that she began to tremble. What did a daughter say to such a woman? What was appropriate? What wasn't appropriate? She had no idea, but she wasn't prepared to wade into that morass.

A knock sounded on the door, and her maid peeked in to notify her that Jackson had returned and was hoping she could meet with him in the library. She jumped up and hurried downstairs again. As she walked into the room, he was seated behind the desk, and his father was standing there and wrapping a bandage around Jackson's hand. His knuckles were cut and swollen. Had he been in a fight?

His father grinned and said, "Ah, Miss Theo. There you are. How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm feeling very spry," she replied.

Jackson grinned too and said, "You were so fatigued yesterday. I'm glad you slept so hard. Are you really better? You're not fibbing, are you?"

"I'm in fine fettle," she insisted, "and I apologize for missing supper and for hogging your bed. Please tell me you had another you could use. I couldn't bear to discover that you had to camp on the floor because of me."

"This drafty abode has eight bedchambers and there is furniture in all of them. I wasn't inconvenienced in the least."

"I'm delighted to hear it."

His father chimed in with, "After the drama you've experienced recently, I must categorically state that you're looking rested and very fetching."

There was a flirtatious gleam in his eye, providing stark evidence that he was an aging roué who'd never stopped evaluating the ladies, and before Theo could respond to his compliment, Jackson scolded him.

"Desist, Cedric. She's only just arrived and I won't have you being a nuisance. Would you go away? I must speak with her in private."

"Are we done with your bandaging?" Mr. Bennett asked.

"Yes," Jackson said, "but I'll soak my knuckles later, then I'll have you wrap them again."

Mr. Bennett peered over at Theo, then gestured at Jackson. "My son, the brawler. He thinks the best method for solving a thorny issue is to punch somebody. It's the soldier in him. He spent too many years utilizing his fists rather than his brain."

Jackson tsked with offense. "Thank you for that perceptive assessment of my dubious qualities. Now go away."

Mr. Bennett smirked, then left. First though, he winked at Theo, as if they were conspirators who shared a secret.

There was a chair directly across from Jackson, and once his father shut the door and they were alone, Theo went over and sat down. They stared forever, neither of them able to begin.

Finally, Theo picked a topic. "You hired a maid for me, and you retrieved some of my clothes, so I don't have to stagger around, dressed like a beggar. If you're not careful, I'll imagine you're not quite the scapegrace you claim to be."

His cheeks heated, as if he was embarrassed to have his chivalrous deeds mentioned. Sarcastically, he said, "It was easy to arrange both the maid and the clothes, so you shouldn't suppose I expended a ton of effort."

"Oh, I would never suppose that. You keep bragging about your low character, so you've forced me to accept that you're the consummate wastrel."

They smiled and the most wonderful sense of intimacy flared between them. She was instantly and vividly reminded of how fond she'd been when they were together in the country. He'd overwhelmed her so completely that she'd ruined herself for him. It had been deranged conduct, that she would never repeat, but despite her understanding of how negligent they'd been, she was yearning to leap up, circle the desk, and snuggle herself on his lap.

Her anatomy was salivating over the scandalous notion, and if she tarried in his home for long, it was terrifying to picture how quickly she could be lured into a physical amour. She didn't dare walk down that lewd road and she had to break the spell that had enveloped them.

"How did you hurt your hand?" she asked. "Is your father correct? Are you a brawler?"

"I occasionally engage in fisticuffs."

"You don't look any the worse for wear. Should I assume the other fellow wound up on the losing end of the altercation?"

"Yes, you may assume that. In general, I try to never start fights I can't win."

"Why were you fighting? And who was your unfortunate opponent? Was it anyone I know?"

He gaped at her, sifting through various replies, then he said, "No, you wouldn't know him. It's just a dunce who's vexed me. I'd had enough of him and I had to clarify my position."

The explanation seemed dodgy and she asked, "Is that the truth?"

"Would I lie to you?"

He appeared innocent as a cherub painted on a church ceiling and she snorted with amusement. "Yes, you would lie to me. I'm sure you are an expert at falsehoods and fabrications."

"You could be right, but in my own defense, if I ever fail to be totally frank with you, I'll be deceiving you for your own good."

"Ooh, you men. You're so pompous and so obnoxious. We're practically strangers, so how would you have the slightest clue of what would be good for me?"

"I have a few ideas. Shall I tell you what some of them are?"

"From how you're grinning, I'm not certain how to answer you. You're positively cunning, so there's no predicting what rubbish you'll be keen to impart."

He raised a brow. "You'll like it. I promise."

"Spoken like a genuine scoundrel."

"Maybe I'm reforming my bad habits."

"Since when?"

"Since I bumped into you in your stepmother's front parlor."

"Actually, it's my front parlor. That house is mine and my sister, Charlotte's."

He nodded. "I haven't forgotten."

"Everything belongs to Charlotte and me. Or it does until we marry, then it belongs to our husbands. Attorney Coswell is determined to guarantee that all of it is returned to us."

"I'm going to help him, remember?"

"I don't recall you mentioning it, which is a very clear example of how distraught I was yesterday. May I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me a dozen questions and I'll respond if I can."

"Where is your mistress? Have you told her that I'm staying with you?"

"As of a few hours ago, I don't have a mistress."

She frowned. "What happened to her?"

"This isn't an appropriate conversation for us to have, but I will admit that she couldn't be in the house when you were here too. She was moved out and she won't be back. In the future, I won't ever see her again either."

It was quite a step in a new direction and she said, "You've split with her because of me?"

"Yes, because of you."

"Was it an easy decision? Or are you bereft to have cast her off?"

"It was easy in one way, but difficult in another. She and I were never very compatible."

"Why have her as your mistress then?"

His cheeks heated again. "Didn't I just state that we shouldn't have this conversation?"

"I don't mind listening to your excuses and I won't faint if you provide details. Or are you too embarrassed to talk about her?"

"I'm not embarrassed. I simply don't want to give you extra reasons to presume I'm a cad."

"Aren't you though?"

"Yes, but I'm trying to mend my wicked proclivities."

"Because of me?" she asked again.

"Yes. Lola fit into my life during an earlier period, but there was never much affection between us. She'd burned her bridges in India, so she's estranged from her family, and I've felt sorry for her."

"You feel sorry for everyone. You're constantly taking in strays."

"Perhaps." He paused, as if the prospect had never previously occurred to him, then he went on. "After I was wounded in India, she sailed to England with me and my father, even though I never intended for her to travel with us. I was too injured to have put my foot down. She's had no one but me to rely on, but she's hard to tolerate. I'm well-rid of her."

"Just like that?"

"Yes, just like that."

"How will she survive without your assistance?"

"I've rented lodging for her, and she'll have an allowance while she finds a situation for herself, but that's all I'll say about it. May I change the subject?"

"That depends on what else you'd like to discuss."

He leaned back in his chair, and he studied her meticulously, but didn't speak up, and she received the distinct impression that he was nervous about the topic he hoped to address.

Ultimately, he said, "Do you ever think about how close we were in the country?"

"I think about it all the time."

"I had persuaded myself that it was merely a frivolous flirtation. You told me we should behave as if we were having a shipboard romance and that we'd go our separate ways when we arrived in port."

She smirked. When she'd uttered the ridiculous suggestion, she'd had no idea what an adult amour truly entailed. They were lucky no babe had been sired.

"I remember spewing that ludicrous remark," she said, "but I didn't mean it. I've always been so fond of you."

"I've been fond of you too, but then, I've been fond of many women. I figured this was a casual lark like all the others, so it's odd for me to still be pining away."

She cocked her head, not certain she'd heard him correctly. "You've been pining away? Over me?"

"Yes! And don't you dare gloat. Why do you suppose I stumbled into your parlor yesterday? I've been a besotted fool, staring out my window, yearning to see you out on the street. I've been moping like a spurned suitor."

"I've been hiding from you. I won't deny it."

"It eventually dawned on me that I was tired of you being such a nuisance. I blustered over and barged in without considering what I planned after I was there. I was that desperate to be with you again."

"If you hadn't interrupted," she said, "I can't predict how my quarrel with Georgina might have resolved. I had reached a point where I was about to wrap my fingers around her lying throat and strangle her."

"Then I'm glad I rushed in when I did. I loved dragging you out of your house and into mine, and after I tucked you under the blanket for a nap, I had the most intriguing revelation. You'll never guess what it was."

He smiled in a cocky manner that was almost alarming. He looked wicked and merry, as if he'd discovered a secret about her that hadn't been divulged.

"Stop smiling like that," she said. "You're scaring me."

"Are you scared? Good. It will keep you off-balance, so I'll be able to pry out the response I'm determined to have."

He stood and rounded the desk, and to her stunned astonishment, he knelt in front of her. He clasped her hand, then said, "Will you marry me?"

"Will I… what ? Will I marry you? Is that what you just asked me?"

"Yes, that's precisely what I asked."

"Are you insane?"

"No, I'm more lucid than I've ever been."

She tried to yank away, but he had her boxed in so she couldn't escape.

"You don't want to marry," she scoffed. "Not me or anyone. Aren't you a confirmed bachelor? From the moment we met, you've bloviated about your loathing for matrimony and your passion for vice and sloth."

"They are great passions. I admit it."

"Plus, you're an earl now. You can choose any female in the kingdom. You don't have to settle for a poverty-stricken nobody who is staggering about with one trunk of clothes."

"You're not so poor anymore, are you? Mr. Coswell and I will get your assets seized, and your relatives chased away from your bank accounts, and you'll become quite an heiress."

"If there's a single item left that Arthur hasn't gambled away."

"Trust me. There is plenty left. He hasn't managed to completely beggar you."

"I'm relieved to hear it," she said.

"I'm not too experienced yet with the ways of aristocratic gentlemen, but I've been informed that they frequently wed heiresses. Since you're about to be one, why shouldn't I glom onto you before any other idiot has a chance?"

She spat out a laugh. "You have the worst habit of voicing exactly the wrong comment. Are you expecting to have me gush and thank you? If so, I must tell you that your arrow has failed to hit its mark."

"HH Imports will be given to your husband and I've been at loose ends since I returned from India. If I wed you, I can run it for you. I'm adept with numbers and I know how to organize things. I can fix what Arthur has broken, and in the process, I'll have a worthwhile project, so I should be able to finally fix myself too."

"You've planned it all out," she murmured, "and so quickly too."

"It's a brilliant notion, don't you think? With the abuse you've endured from your kin, you need to have a tough, strong defender standing by your side. Why not have it be me?"

He was still kneeling in front of her, and with her seated on the chair, they were nose to nose, eye to eye. She wondered if he was sincere and he definitely seemed to be. He was so proud of being a bachelor, proud of his vices and sloth. Could a person change so drastically and in such a short time? Was it likely?

As with everything that had happened recently, she was reeling and in no condition to ponder a marriage proposal. Then again, why would she have to debate?

After their brief fling in the country, she'd realized she could never be a bride, simply because she'd never meet another man like Jackson Bennett. But suddenly, he was eager to wed her! She was like Cinderella in a fairytale. Why would she have to reflect on her answer? How could she refuse him?

"Are you sure about this?" she said. "I'm worried that you haven't thought it through."

"I'm very sure. I let you go once and I can't let you go again. Marry me, Theo. Don't be practical or rational. Be wild and reckless and agree to have me."

"You better be serious about this. If you propose, then renege later on, you should be aware that I have an excellent attorney. Mr. Coswell will never permit you to slither off my hook."

"You silly girl; I'm totally serious. In fact, we can hold the ceremony tomorrow or the next day—if I can figure out how to obtain a Special License."

She gasped. "Tomorrow? Really?"

"That's how excited I am. I can't bear any delay and I can't allow you to fret about the situation. You might come to your senses."

"Or you might come to yours and vanish into the hills."

"I am fully ready to tie the knot. I swear it. Won't you have me? Please? Take a chance! Roll the dice! Say you'll be mine and I'll make you happy forever."

She paused to drink in the lovely scene: Jackson Bennett prostrate before her and begging to have her for his very own. How could she resist?

"Yes, Jackson, I will roll the dice and have you as my husband. I would like that ending very, very much."

He whooped with joy, then he pushed himself to his feet, having to use the arm of the chair to brace his bad leg. He lifted her to her feet too, then he hugged her so tightly she couldn't breathe.

"This will be perfect," he whispered.

"Yes," she concurred, "perfect from now on."