The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3)

He breathed in the scent of her, nibbled on her ear, the wet streamer sticking to his mouth, and said, “Marry me, Jessie. Let’s just get it done.”

She was crying. That’s why she was trembling. He pushed her back against his arm and raised her chin with his fingers. “Why?”

She made no sound. The tears just welled out of her eyes and fell over her cheeks to her chin. “You cry well, Jessie, but tell me why you’re crying? Are you giving up? Do you have to think of this as losing to me? Actually, we’re both winning, if you’d but give your brain a chance to think all this through.”

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. He knew when she’d stopped crying. She stood very still. Then she said quietly against the wet batiste of his shirt, “James, you’re the only man who’s ever kissed me.”

He grinned as he kissed the top of her wet head. “I’ll kiss you until we both cock up our toes if you’ll let me.”

She stepped back and looked up at him. “I’ll let you. But first I want you to agree to something.”

He was still. He didn’t think he was going to like this and he was right, even as he said, “Agree to what?”

“You’re like a dog with a bone in his mouth and you won’t stop until you’ve gnawed it—or me—to death. You’re now looking at this situation as if it’s a race to be won. You’ve got to beat me, to make me yield. It doesn’t matter any longer if you truly believe that wh

at you’re doing is right. It’s beyond that. I should have said yes immediately. Then you probably would have paled, stammered that you’d made a ghastly mistake, and scuttled off. But I didn’t. I turned you down, and you couldn’t bear that.”

“What’s your damned point, Jessie? What do you want me to agree to?”

She drew a deep breath, pulled one of her streamers off her cheek, and said, “I look at marriage as forever, James. I know that men do, too, but they are incapable of remaining faithful to one woman, namely their wives. Since you don’t love me, you will tire of me quickly, then you’ll want to go back to Connie Maxwell or to any number of other women. I’m willing to accept this as long as you agree to allow me the same courtesy. When I tire of you, I can take lovers. I don’t want any lies between us.”

“That’s a lot of things you’ve said, Jessie. Let me take the most basic thing first. You can’t take lovers. Unlike a man, you can get pregnant. I won’t claim another man’s child.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Isn’t there a way not to conceive a child?”

“Yes, there are several ways.”

“Well?”

“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

“So you’re saying the women you’d have sex with would know how to prevent conceiving your child.”

“Yes, but there are always accidents.”

“Then surely a prospective lover would exercise equal care. One assumes that a man who’s unfaithful to his wife wouldn’t want his mistresses to give birth to his bastards.”

“You will take no lovers, Jessie.”

“If you won’t, then I won’t.”

James plowed his fingers through his wet hair. “ Damnation, I don’t believe this. Clancy just nudged my shoulder. He thinks I’m bloody crazy to stand here listening to this nonsense flowing from your ignorant mouth. No, just shut up, Jessie. Let me tell you about Connie Maxwell. She wouldn’t be my lover if I were married. Does that surprise you?”

“I suppose it does. If I were she, I believe I wouldn’t be able to turn you away.”

He sucked in his breath as if he’d been punched in the belly. “Be quiet. I can’t take much more of this. Now we’re both soaked. I don’t wish to have either of us contract an inflammation of the lung. Let’s go back to the house now.”

She fell in beside him, silent now, looking straight ahead. The rain was still falling, more lightly now, becoming a fine drizzle. A fog rose, as if shoved up from the bowels of the earth, shrouding everything in a soft, gray veil. They heard Fred chortle what he must have thought was a fine mating call. It sounded like a buzzard in its death throes.

Jessie laughed.

James looked at her, but she didn’t explain. He took her hand. They continued walking to the house, hand in hand.

Neither of them succumbed to a cold. When they went into the kitchen, the tribunal was waiting for them, armed for any disaster.

“Here you are,” Badger said. “We hoped you’d come into the kitchen. Now, we have dressing gowns for both of you. Jessie, you go first into the pantry and take off those wet things. Then you, James. Then you’ll have hot tea and some delicious apples a` la Portugaise, a recipe I just received in the post from a Frog chef who lives in Rouen.”

“Then we’ll discuss your wedding,” Spears said. “His lordship will speak with Mr. Bagley, our curate. Oh dear, we must post bans, and that will take three weeks. None of us wishes to wait that long.”