is second best? Perhaps,” Alex said as he shifted on the chair, toying with the quill, turning it over and over between his fingers, “you want to tell Tess she cannot marry Owen because he is your property?”
Joanna blinked back the tears that stung her throat and blocked her nose. Indignation and a sense of betrayal had been replaced by a chill fear wreathing her heart. Had she meant that? She could not quite see how matters had slid so far, so fast. She had been upset and had not thought to censor what she had said.
“That’s not what I meant at all,” she protested, and her voice rang lame in her own ears. “Whom Owen marries is nothing to me.”
So why did it hurt so much? Joanna examined her feelings and realised with a rush of fear that she did not want to know.
“As long as he does not marry your sister,” Alex said, and the sarcasm in his tone set her teeth on edge. He shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not believe you, my love. You sounded jealous. Can it be that you care for Owen more than you pretend?”
Joanna felt as though the ground was slipping and sliding away beneath her feet. She glanced across at thenewspaper with the little box of print written in such harsh black lines:
The betrothal is announced between Teresa, Dowager Marchioness of Darent, and Owen Purchase, 14th Viscount Rothbury… Her heart squeezed again, the breath blocking her throat.
“No!” she said. Her voice was high with desperation. She tried to moderate her tone. “It isn’t like that, Alex,” she said. “I don’t love Owen. I never did. I chose you!”
“But Owen was your white knight, wasn’t he?” Alex said, a wealth of bitterness colouring his voice now. “He rescued you from your first husband when David threatened you. He kept you safe. He loved you for years.”
Joanna put her hands over her ears. They had talked about this before, long ago, when first they had wed. She had thought it was all settled between them. Heaven help her, she had thought that Alex had not minded.
“Don’t,” she said. “Alex, please. I don’t love Owen. I love you.”
Alex stood up. He came towards her, pulling her to her feet, taking her by the wrists and drawing her hands down to her sides. She felt open and vulnerable, as though all the complicated emotions within her were exposed. She knew in that moment that she could not pretend. They knew each other too well and pretence would be an unbearable deceit.
“Very well,” she said. She raised her chin in a brave little gesture of defiance. “Owen is a good man. I admire him. He did me a tremendous service in protecting me from David and for that I will always love him.” She met Alex’s eyes. His expression was dark and cold, giving nothing away. She could feel the tension in him, spun taut as she told him of her love for another man.
“But I am not in love with Owen,” she said softly, her eyes pleading with Alex to understand. “Perhaps there was a time when I almost fell in love with him. Perhaps there was a time when I might have run off with him. But by the time he asked me it was too late because I had already met you and we were wed and for better or worse you were the one in my heart. I had my chance to elope with Owen and I refused him because you were the only one I wanted.”
There was a moment of absolute stillness and then Alex pulled her into his arms so tightly that all the breath was knocked out of her body. His mouth was pressed against her hair and his arms were tight about her.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, muffled. His voice was hoarse. “I suppose I have always been afraid… He loved you first, and I thought there might be a chance—”
“Never,” Joanna said firmly, all the lovely confidence flowing back into her veins to hear the emotion in his words. “Only you, Alex. Always.”
She freed herself a little, doubt clouding her eyes. “I worry though,” she said, “that Owen wants Tess because he cannot have me and that
Joanna blinked back the tears that stung her throat and blocked her nose. Indignation and a sense of betrayal had been replaced by a chill fear wreathing her heart. Had she meant that? She could not quite see how matters had slid so far, so fast. She had been upset and had not thought to censor what she had said.
“That’s not what I meant at all,” she protested, and her voice rang lame in her own ears. “Whom Owen marries is nothing to me.”
So why did it hurt so much? Joanna examined her feelings and realised with a rush of fear that she did not want to know.
“As long as he does not marry your sister,” Alex said, and the sarcasm in his tone set her teeth on edge. He shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not believe you, my love. You sounded jealous. Can it be that you care for Owen more than you pretend?”
Joanna felt as though the ground was slipping and sliding away beneath her feet. She glanced across at thenewspaper with the little box of print written in such harsh black lines:
The betrothal is announced between Teresa, Dowager Marchioness of Darent, and Owen Purchase, 14th Viscount Rothbury… Her heart squeezed again, the breath blocking her throat.
“No!” she said. Her voice was high with desperation. She tried to moderate her tone. “It isn’t like that, Alex,” she said. “I don’t love Owen. I never did. I chose you!”
“But Owen was your white knight, wasn’t he?” Alex said, a wealth of bitterness colouring his voice now. “He rescued you from your first husband when David threatened you. He kept you safe. He loved you for years.”
Joanna put her hands over her ears. They had talked about this before, long ago, when first they had wed. She had thought it was all settled between them. Heaven help her, she had thought that Alex had not minded.
“Don’t,” she said. “Alex, please. I don’t love Owen. I love you.”
Alex stood up. He came towards her, pulling her to her feet, taking her by the wrists and drawing her hands down to her sides. She felt open and vulnerable, as though all the complicated emotions within her were exposed. She knew in that moment that she could not pretend. They knew each other too well and pretence would be an unbearable deceit.
“Very well,” she said. She raised her chin in a brave little gesture of defiance. “Owen is a good man. I admire him. He did me a tremendous service in protecting me from David and for that I will always love him.” She met Alex’s eyes. His expression was dark and cold, giving nothing away. She could feel the tension in him, spun taut as she told him of her love for another man.
“But I am not in love with Owen,” she said softly, her eyes pleading with Alex to understand. “Perhaps there was a time when I almost fell in love with him. Perhaps there was a time when I might have run off with him. But by the time he asked me it was too late because I had already met you and we were wed and for better or worse you were the one in my heart. I had my chance to elope with Owen and I refused him because you were the only one I wanted.”
There was a moment of absolute stillness and then Alex pulled her into his arms so tightly that all the breath was knocked out of her body. His mouth was pressed against her hair and his arms were tight about her.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, muffled. His voice was hoarse. “I suppose I have always been afraid… He loved you first, and I thought there might be a chance—”
“Never,” Joanna said firmly, all the lovely confidence flowing back into her veins to hear the emotion in his words. “Only you, Alex. Always.”
She freed herself a little, doubt clouding her eyes. “I worry though,” she said, “that Owen wants Tess because he cannot have me and that
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