Page 105 of The Worst of Them

“It’s not that.” He forced a smile. “I don’t mind that. I suppose I lost my balance when I bent down, and then I thought of cabbage and ambergris and now my stomach is turned.” He lifted the bottle and downed everything left inside.

She didn’t believe him. “I won’t force you to honor a drunk decision.” Even as she said it, her heart keened at the suggestion that he might change his mind about her.

He set the empty bottle on the dresser, then returned to her, kneeling again. “I’d tell you if I didn’t want this.” He took her left hand in his, entwining their fingers so their wedding bands shone between them. “Marriage wasn’t my immediate intention with you, but it was an intention. I didn’t say so explicitly, but I didn’t hide it either.”

“I know. But I understand if you’re still deciding.”

He stared at their linked hands. “I had already decided. I didn’t want to rush your decision.”

“I supposed this might happen sooner or later,” Cecily said, surprised as shyness began creeping in. “What’s so bad about sooner?”

She would have married Oliver for less than she felt for Jack—and she’d been eager to. Though there were other things that made a marriage good besides passion, she didn’t doubt Jack. They’d certainly fight—oh, they’d surely have grand quarrels—but he’d fight for her too. And she for him.

No, marrying sooner wasn’t bad at all.

The edge of his mouth tightened. “There were just a few things I’d wanted to tell you before⁠—”

A knock interrupted. “Jack!” Greyson called through the door.

Sighing, Jack rose and went to open it.

“We gotta get to Robin’s,” Greyson said without preamble as another knock echoed from down the hall. “Soon as we can.”

“Cecily?” Hester’s voice drifted from next door. Cecily cursed silently, her body flushing. Her marriage was still new enough to be shocking to herself—she hadn’t even begun to consider anyone else knowing about it. Surely they’d be pleased, but perhaps that should come after both she and Jack had time to get used to the idea.

“What’s the rush?” Jack asked Greyson. More knocking.

“Robin’s dying,” Greyson told him. “Copson’s there and feelin’ ugly about it.”

“Cecily,” Hester called again, knocking louder.

“Cecily’s not in there,” Jack said, leaning into the hall. The knocking ceased. The silence grew heavy.

Then Hester swore. Her footsteps pounded closer, but Jack swung the door shut so his body blocked her view into the room.

“Cecily!” Hester chortled. “You had better be properly married, or I don’t know you at all, you strait-laced, pious—” She cut off with a gasp, and Cecily assumed Hester had seen Jack’s ring.

“Shiiiit,” Greyson said. An edge entered his voice. “Your father know?”

Cecily found herself almost echoing Greyson’s swear. No matter about their friends finding out they were married—but Copson?

“No,” Jack said firmly. “And he won’t till I find a time to tell him properly.”

A gruff laugh. “Aye,” Greyson said. “Best get yourselves there fast, though.”

“We’ll be there,” Jack said as Cecily swung out of the bed. Ignoring her skirt and knives on the floor, she padded to the chest of drawers and pulled out one of Jack’s shirts with longer sleeves and a higher neck. “Give us a minute.”

Hester began to say, “That shouldn’t be nearly long enough⁠—”

Jack shut the door. Cecily had shrugged into his shirt and was adjusting the hem when he turned around.

Shadows darkened his eyes. “My father,” he said slowly.

Thankfully, her head wasn’t throbbing as badly anymore, leaving room to contemplate the awful man she’d now count as her father-in-law. “He’s going to hate this.”

“He certainly won’t be pleased,” Jack supposed with wry twist of his mouth.

“How will you tell him?” Because she’d be damned if she were the one to do it. She valued her life far more than that.