How could they do this? How could they inform the Daily that she and Henry were going to be engaged when she’d firmly told her mother she wouldn’t do it? It was them behind this, not just George. This reeked of her parents’ interference, and she’d be damned if it cost her Jameson.
“Wait for what, Scarlett?” he snapped as he strode away, those warm, dark eyes of his going cold and taking her heart with them. “Wait for you to marry some rich society-type? Was that why you wanted to know why I hadn’t kissed you yet? Were you worried about running out of time to pull one over on me?” He never broke stride, those long legs carrying him farther away from her with every step.
“That’s not what’s going on! I’m not engaged!” she argued, racing to get ahead of him. “Listen to me!” She put her hands on his chest and stopped, forcing him to pause or run her over.
He halted, but the look he gave crushed her all the same.
“Are you getting engaged?”
“No!” She shook her head emphatically. “My parents want me to marry Henry, but I won’t do it. They’re trying to force my hand.” She would never forgive them for this. Not ever.
“Force your hand?” His jaw ticked, and her mind scrambled for a way to make him understand.
“Yes!” She didn’t bother to check if they were being overheard or where the others from the car were. She didn’t care who heard what she said as long as he did. “It’s not true.”
“It’s in the paper!” He stepped back from her and laced his fingers over his hat.
“Because they think publishing it as fact will force me to agree out of embarrassment or duty!” she fired back.
“Will it?” he challenged.
“No!” Her chest tightened, facing the possibility that he might not believe her.
He looked away, clearly torn, and she couldn’t blame him. Her parents and the Wadsworths had dumped her in a damnable mess.
“Jameson, please. I swear I’m not marrying Henry Wadsworth.” Death was preferable.
“But your parents want you to?”
She nodded.
“And this Wadsworth guy wants you to?”
“Henry’s father believes the title—and the seat in the House of Lords—will fall to Henry if we marry, and if not Henry, then our firstborn son, which it won’t because—”
“Your firstborn son?” His eyes narrowed. “Now you’re having future kids with this guy?”
Apparently, that was not the thing to say to get him to understand.
“Of course not! None of it matters, because I’m not going to marry him!” A dull buzzing sounded in her head, as though her own mind were shutting down to spare her what felt like impending heartbreak. “If you believe this stunt, you let them win. I will not.”
“It’s easy to lose a fight you don’t know you’re in.” At least he was looking at her again, but the accusation in his eyes nearly brought tears to hers. He looked as though he’d been betrayed, and in a way, he had.
“I should have told you,” she whispered.
“Yes, you should have,” he agreed. “What kind of parents try to force their daughter into a marriage she doesn’t want?” His hands slid to the back of his neck, as if he needed to keep those hands busy.
“The kind who have sold off nearly all the land and spent themselves into financial ruin.” Her arms fell to her sides as Jameson’s eyes widened. “Titles don’t necessarily mean lavish bank accounts.” The buzzing grew louder.
“Stanton! Reed! We have to go!” someone shouted from behind them.
“Financial ruin.” Jameson shook his head. “You mean to tell me that your parents are what? Selling you off?”
“Trying to, yes.” There was the ugly truth of it, and his face showed it. She bristled. “Don’t look at me like that. You Americans think you’ve escaped the system of inherited wealth, but instead of the king and the peerage, you have the Astors and the Rockefellers.”
“We don’t sell off our daughters.” His eyebrows shot high.
“I could name at least three American heiresses who have married into the peerage in the last decade alone.” Scarlett folded her arms across her chest.
“So now you’re defending this?” Jameson shot back as Howard ran by, turning to jog in reverse.
“Stanton! Now!” Howard shouted, waving his arm.
“No, that’s not what I mean!” Scarlett sputtered. The buzzing noise shifted, the tone deepening. Approaching aircraft. The patrol before Jameson’s was returning, which meant she had precious seconds. “Jameson, I’m not marrying Henry. I swear it.”
“Why not?” he questioned, then snapped his gaze skyward, his eyes narrowing before she could even answer.
“Among other reasons, because I want you, you daft Yank!” God, she’d really lost it, arguing in public like this, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop, and the man wasn’t even listening anymore.
“Are those ours?” Howard pointed in the same direction Jameson’s attention was already focused.
The squadron broke through the low-hanging clouds, and her stomach curdled. Those were not Spitfires.
The air-raid sirens wailed out the warning, but it was too late.
The end of the runway blew apart with a deafening blast she felt throughout her body. Smoke and debris filled the air as the next one hit within a heartbeat, louder and closer.
“Get down!” Jameson tugged her into the curve of his body, turning his back on the blasts and pulling her to the ground. Her knees collided with the pavement.
The hanger fifty yards in front of them exploded.
Chapter Seven
Noah
Dear Scarlett,
I miss you, my love. The sound of your voice over the telephone doesn’t compare to holding you in my arms. It’s only been a few weeks, yet it feels like forever since I was reposted. Good news, I think I’ve been able to secure us a house close by. I know the moving has been hell on you, and if you decide you’d rather stay near Constance, then we can adjust our plans. You’ve given up so much for me already, and yet here I am, asking you to do it all over again. I promise when this war is over, I will make it up to you. I swear I’ll never put you in the position to sacrifice for me again.
God, I miss the feel of your skin against mine in the morning and the sight of that beautiful smile when I walk through the door at night. Right now, it’s only Howard welcoming me, though he’s not here much since meeting a local girl. Before you ask, no, there are no local girls for me. There’s only a blue-eyed beauty who holds my heart and my future, and I’d hardly call her local, since she’s hours away.