My One and Only Earl (Forever Yours #12) - Stacy Reid Page 0,3

shaky laugh. “She is exceptionally beautiful.”

“Ah.” He had an inkling of where this story might lead.

“Mr. Rushworth met Rebecca and fell violently in love with her. He informed me he could no longer in good conscience remain affianced with me, not when his affections and passions were otherwise engaged. I excused his crying off. Thankfully, it had not been announced. There would be little to no scandal.”

James frowned. “Was Richard insisting on the match going through?”

“Mr. Rushworth begged my stepmother and Richard to allow Rebecca to marry him. Of course, my stepmother refused. A beauty like Rebecca can have her pick of any gentleman, and our sister, who recently married a baron, promised her a season where she could meet eligible beau of society and make a good match. Mr. Rushworth was crushed, and after a few weeks of nursing his wounds, he offered again for me.”

“I am not sure whether to be disgusted or to admire his gall.”

She gripped his knee even tighter. “I was infuriated, and of course, I refused! To marry a man so inconstant and easily distracted by beauty. I am aware I am passably pretty, and I have little talent to recommend me, but does that mean I should marry in haste and then worry about his roving heart and attraction?”

James’ heart jolted. Passably pretty? She was not beautiful in the fashionable sense with blonde ringlets, bright blue eyes, and a tall, slender figure. But she was not uncomely. Or quite as unremarkable as he had first assumed. No…with her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, there was something remarkable.

Miss Ashford closed her eyes and lifted trembling fingers to her mouth, tears sliding from beneath her lowered lashes. “But Richard begged me repeatedly to accept Mr. Rushworth. We had so many arguments. He called me prideful and a silly romantic. The realities of life say I need the protection of a husband, and…and I could not expect to do better than the vicar.” Her shoulders shook, and the tears coursed more freely down her cheeks. “He was so disappointed; we barely spoke in his last days.”

“Miss Ashford,” James began gruffly. “Poppy…”

Her gaze snapped to his at the intimate use of her name. He knew the guilt she felt, and though he did not know her, James wanted to reassure her, wanted her to feel safe and comforted. Bloody hell. “From the letter you sent me, the doctors said he was weak and tired towards the end.”

“Yes,” she said in a trembling breath.

He reached up and pinched her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze when she attempted to look toward the brook. Those lovely eyes flared, but she did not draw away. “That, Poppy, is the only reason you did not speak as often. Now tell me the last words he spoke to you; what were they?”

“I…” her throat worked on a swallow. Water trailed down her face, tracing the hollow of her cheek. “He told me he loved me very much…and wished…and wished he had been able to provide me with a living.”

“There,” he murmured. “He said nothing about disappointment…nor at any time did he truly try to force you to marry that vicar. He had the power as your older brother, you know. But he did not. He knew the weakness in his body…and what he took the time to tell you was how much he loved you. Always remember that, and it is those words you keep in your heart, nothing else.”

She stared at him as if he were a creature sprouted from the muddy earth. It struck him then that perhaps kindness was a rarity in her life. A shudder went through her entire body, her face crumpled, and she flung herself at him, capturing James’ shoulder in a fierce hug.

The action surprised him, and he awkwardly patted her back while fighting to hold the umbrella steady. James stayed silent, listening to the harsh, wrenching sobs, thinking they expressed the very sorrow and regret he felt. Her tears belonged to him, and he shamelessly allowed himself the belief they were the tears he shed for his friend.

“You are soaked to the bones,” he murmured when she calmed.

“I do not feel the pain of this cold,” she whispered in the crook of his neck before releasing him as if she had been burned. Slight color appeared in her cheeks, but she did not glance away from his regard.

James silently held out the umbrella, and she took it without question. Standing quickly, he shrugged