Page 52 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

“Well, it appears we have been set up,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

Jasper chortled. “They did work hard to get us to this point, did they not?”

The silence fell over them once more like a blanket.

Elizabeth picked at a loose thread on the hem of her dress. “I believe they are distressed at the end of our arrangement. I told my friends, as well as I’m sure you told your grandmother.”

Jasper drew in a quiet breath as if he meant to speak, then closed his mouth.

Elizabeth knew she ought to fill the conversation with something, but did not quite know what to say either.

He looked at her then—really, fully looked at her, the depth of those fathomless eyes searching her own in a way that touched her soul. “I am distressed at the end of our arrangement as well.”

Had he really said that?

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, hating that her voice seemed so small and insignificant that the wind almost carried it away.

Jasper shifted so he sat directly in front of her. “I don’t want our engagement to end.”

Jasper watched Elizabeth for her reaction, his heart pounding.

She drew a sharp intake of breath, her eyes searching his, as if trying to seek out the truth.

With hope?

Perhaps?

There was nothing for it, but to press on.

“While our engagement may have started as a ruse, my enjoyment of our time together has been entirely real,” he said. “I did not realize that until I wasn’t seeing you every day.”

She bit her lip. “I’ve enjoyed my time with you as well. And have also missed you.”

He exhaled a breath, feeling his body beginning to relax.

Several feet away, Bess was huddled with Elizabeth’s friends, searching for a rabbit that didn’t exist.

He chuckled. “They’re rather ridiculous with this pretense, aren’t they?”

“I hope for their sake, they really do find a rabbit.”

“Either way, I’m glad to be here with you.” He looked at Elizabeth once more.

She looked awful.

Rather, she was still beautiful—she would always still be beautiful—with those lovely blue eyes that reminded him of the endless stretch of a late summer sky, and her chestnut-brown hair that gleamed in the sun. And, of course, that full bottom lip that he recalled too often, remembering how soft it felt against his mouth, his tongue.

But it was evident she had not been sleeping well. The delicate skin under her eyes was dark, bruised with exhaustion, and the energy which usually seemed so boundless that it glowed about her now seemed dulled.

His own had dulled as well, without her.

“I know we started our engagement as a façade, a means to spare your reputation and allow your sister to marry Scorbridge, but I should very much like to continue our engagement.” He reached for her hand, hating the gloves they both wore that added cloth barriers to the wonderful intimacy of skin on skin.

“If we continue the engagement, you do know that your grandmother and my mother will be pushing for a springtime wedding.” She looked at their hands and then back up at him. “Which means this fake engagement will lead to a very real marriage.”

“I cannot imagine anyone whom I would rather marry than you.” He touched her face with his free hand, the fingertips of his gloves brushing her jawline as he recalled the silken feel of her.

Her breath came more quickly. “What are you saying, Jasper?”