“Do you think Hayden and I couldn’t have pulled it off?” Evie glanced into the shadows when she said this, as though worried someone was there to overhear. The lock-up was empty, though. Jamie would have known if anyone else had been here.
“I didn’t notice darling Hayden in attendance last night,” Jamie said, trying to sound offhand.
“No, he wasn’t.”
Jamie waited for Evie to defend Atherton, explain again how he’d had to work for his father, with no choice in the matter. Evie only gazed at the motorcars lined up side by side, gleaming in the dim light.
“I for one, am glad.” Jamie cupped Evie’s face with one hand. He couldn’t stop himself.
“I’m not sure whether to be glad or sorry.” Evie’s response was a near whisper.
“I’m also happy you didn’t punch me in the nose.”
Evie’s laughter rippled. “It’s a nice nose. I didn’t want to mar it.”
“Already marred,” Jamie touched the dent where a large bloke had gotten in a good blow in a boxing match eight years ago. He should have paid more attention to the lessons from Uncle Mac’s pugilist valet. He didn’t move his other hand from Evie’s face, letting his thumb trace her cheek. “Lass, promise me …”
Evie stilled, her breath touching his gloved hand. “Promise you what?”
“Not to confess to Atherton to ease your conscience. No good will come of that.”
Evie went pink under his touch. “I agree. His mother and father would grind me to dust. I’m not sure Hayden could save me, or would be willing to.”
“If I were Atherton, I’d shoot me.”
Evie blinked. “Shoot you? As in a duel? A hundred years ago, perhaps. In any case, Hayden would never do such a thing.”
True, Atherton likely wouldn’t resort to violence. He was the sort who’d find a way to destroy a man without coming near him.
Jamie caressed her cheek once more. “If you were mine, and another man dared touch you, I’d tear him apart.” He leaned to her, as though she were a magnet that drew his iron soul. “I can barely stand the thought of you marrying the twit, of you smiling across the table at him every night.” He brushed a finger across her forehead. “I know you want to go through with it, even if Atherton’s wrong for you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Jamie stilled. Evie’s declaration was low-voiced, with pain behind it.
“Doesn’t matter? It matters, Evie. It matters more than anything. Don’t give yourself to the wrong person. That way lies misery.”
She flicked her gaze to him, her eyes a mystery. “Are you telling me you are the right person?”
“I don’t know.” Jamie knew damned well he was, but he doubted Evie would believe him at the moment. “But don’t go to Atherton if you aren’t absolutely certain of him. Don’t bind yourself like that. And don’t bleat to me that a woman must marry or be nothing. That doesn’t have to be true.”
Evie remained silent, telling him she hadn’t revealed all her reasoning for marrying Atherton. There was something more to it.
If Atherton had some hold over her, something she was willing to marry him to protect, Jamie would kill him. Never mind that duels were a hundred years out of date. Jamie would hand the man a pistol and then pot him. He was a crack shot.
“Do you speak from experience?” Evie asked him abruptly.
Jamie’s brows rose. “Experience? What are you on about, lass?”
“You said it was misery giving yourself to the wrong person. Have you done that?”
“Not I.” Jamie had never given himself completely to anyone, which accounted for the empty feeling drilling into his heart now. “But I’ve seen it happen and heard the tales, especially in my own family. My dad and uncles went through so much hurting before they found love. I don’t want to watch that happen to you.”
“You will not have to watch anything.” Evie stepped briskly from him, breaking their contact. “I will marry Hayden, and you will go off somewhere in the world and live your own life. I know you’ve become chummy with Hayden, but I think after our marriage, you should not visit us.”
Chummy. Part of Jamie wanted to laugh. He was civil to the man to serve his own ends, but he’d not say that to Evie.
The other half of him wanted to touch her again, pull her into his arms, kiss her until she promised to show Atherton the door. If she didn’t want Jamie in her life, so be it, but he would not let her promise herself to a man she loathed.
“And that’s the end of it, then?” Jamie let the question hold the hint of a growl.
“Yes. It must be.”
Evie now should give him a decided nod, turn with a swirl of skirts, and march out the door, back to the carriage. Their time together finished.
Instead she stood still, her body moving slightly toward him as though the magnet now felt the pull of Jamie.
Jamie laced an arm around her, and Evie sagged against him, as though relieved he’d broken the tension.
“Look at me and tell me you love him.” Jamie’s voice was low, insistent. “Tell me that, and I’ll leave you be. I’ll never speak to you again, find another country to live my life in.”
“It is none of your business who I love.” The response was haughty but delivered in faint, cracked words.
“It is my business. It is because I want your happiness. More than anything, I want that.”
Evie started at his fervor. “Why?”
To hell with it. “Because I’m in love with you, lass.”
Chapter 17
Evie’s heartbeat slowed to a crawl, then abruptly accelerated until she was breathless.
Jamie Mackenzie had just said he loved her.
His blue eyes were quiet, all teasing absent. A lock of his red-brown hair curved over his face, shadowing his cheek in the lantern light.
This beautiful, funny, gallant, amazing man had said that he loved her, but this couldn’t be real. Evie had pushed away love, the pain of it too much for her. Hayden was safe. A friend. That was all she needed.
“I don’t quite believe you,” she heard herself say. She didn’t dare.
Jamie’s brows slammed down. “No?” He released her, and Evie took a step back, off-balance. “Why the devil would I spend a week planning to steal a blasted piece of pottery out of a museum so you could help a woman I barely know? Why would I have rushed around in the pouring rain last night when I could have been snug at my father’s house sampling his best whisky and cigars? Or getting very drunk with my friends at a hell somewhere? Why should I do all that, if not for you?”
“I don’t know,” Evie stammered. “I thought you were trying to rub Hayden’s nose in it—show him you could do everything better than he.”
“I don’t give a damn about what Hayden Atherton thinks of me,” Jamie growled. “I give a damn about what you think of me. I always have.”
“Always?” Evie’s voice shook. “Always is a long time.”
“It’s hell.” Jamie’s harsh words pierced her heart. “It’s forever.” He slammed his arms around her and pulled her up to him, bringing their faces an inch apart. “Damn you, lass.”