“What brought me here?”
“Yes.”
“You, of course.” His slow smile warmed her down to her toes. “You wound me, love. What kind of welcome is this? I hoped you would be more pleased to see me.”
“Certainly I am pleased—” she said in a breathless rush before cutting herself off. She was wildly glad to see Jack, but her elation was beside the point—not to mention utterly inappropriate given her recent betrothal. “I still don’t understand why you are here.”
“I have your aunt’s blessing to be in Paris with you,” Jack informed her. “In fact, your sojourn here was my idea.”
Sophie stared at him for several moments before comprehension dawned. “You mean you colluded with my aunt? And tricked her into coming here with me?”
“I would not call it trickery, but yes, I arranged with Mrs. Pennant to bring you here.”
She should have predicted that Jack would behave so unpredictably, Sophie realized. And she ought to be angry, yet her heart felt immensely lighter. He had not given up on her after all.
Her elation was a sentiment she would do well to quell. It had taken enormous effort to resign herself to her unwanted marriage, and now Jack would undoubtedly stir up her futile longings all over again.
At her silence, he prodded her. “Your aunt and I both went to a great deal of trouble on your behalf, Sophie. You should be grateful that we contrived to delay your wedding.”
Perhaps so, except that any delay would only postpone the inevitable, and now she would be highly vulnerable to Jack. Doing her duty would be hard enough—and would be completely untenable if she had to face him every day during her stay in France.
Sophie made herself arch an eyebrow. “Why should I be grateful to find you going behind my back, making decisions for me without my knowledge or consent? You intentionally deceived me.”
“It was my only course, darling. I needed a legitimate reason to separate you from Dunmore. How else could I ensure the opportunity to woo you?”
“Jack …” she said in exasperated tones. “The time for wooing is over.”
He ignored her declaration and glanced down at the table. “I have breakfasted already, but I don’t mind eating again. May I join you?”
Sophie hesitated upon glimpsing the hotel servant who stood at attention by the door. This conversation was better held in private. “Do I have a choice?” she asked rather tartly.
Not replying, Jack ordered the footman to pour coffee and set another plate, then dismissed him to wait outside the parlor door.
“I didn’t realize you speak such fluent French,” Sophie remarked absently as Jack held out her chair for her, then seated himself.
“I spent the first six years of my life in Paris.”
His admission was a distressing reminder that he’d lived here with his mother until her tragic death during the Revolution. But Sophie was most interested in learning why he had stooped to such machinations with her aunt.
“Why was it so important that I come to Paris, of all places?”
Jack spread jam on a croissant as he answered. “I had to visit Europe, and I needed you here with me.”
Sophie gave him a puzzled frown. “That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. I couldn’t let you remain behind in England when I wasn’t there to challenge Dunmore for your affections. And this will allow us to finish what we started.”
“What we started?”
“We still need time together to determine if we’re a match.”
Her frown deepened. “We already decided that we are not a match, Jack.”
“We did nothing of the kind. Our courtship was cut short prematurely, before we could resolve the question. And I, for one, still haven’t made up my mind.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Do you realize how arrogant you sound?”
Jack gave her a quick smile and bit into the flaky roll. Watching him slowly savor it, Sophie recalled that his near starvation when he was young had left him with imagined hunger pains.