Page 38 of Jaxon (Gentlemen of War #4)

Amelia

After Daisy had packed my trunk with my books and papers, she went to my armoire and retrieved my few dresses, laying them across the bed. “I think you should wear this to dinner tonight,” she suggested holding up my emerald-green gown—the one she had spent hours mending as if I had an occasion to don it.

I chuckled. “Why on earth would I wear a ball gown to dinner?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “It’s your last night here. I think we should make it special.”

I stared at the fine silk fabric that had a tiny imperfection in the framed bodice, yet still dazzled with its capped sleeves and black lace trim. I would have worn that for Jack without question had I not learned the most devastating news two nights past.

He fought for the French.

At Waterloo.

I unclasped my necklace and sat on the bed, opening it to the damaged miniature of Peter. How does one move on from that? What if he was the one responsible for Peter’s death? Tears bubbled on my eyelashes. One blink released them, and they easily rolled down my cheeks. I missed my brother dearly, and in clear paradoxical providence, he might have been the only one who could help me sort out the jumbled mess in my head. And in typical Peter fashion, he would have also been the first to forgive.

Daisy sat on the bed next to me. “I believe if Mr. Jack hadn’t lost his memory, he would not have done what he did,” she whispered.

I had confided in her with what had transpired over the last few days. I needed to tell someone.

She patted my hand. “He is one of the nicest men I have ever met, Miss. He never treated me poorly.”

Everything she said was true. He was gentle, kind, respectful, handsome… but might I always wonder? I swallowed hard and replaced my necklace.

“I think I will remain in my room tonight.”

“Please, Miss.” Daisy squeezed my hand now. “Mr. Jack has asked me to sing, and I don’t think I can do it if you’re not there.”

“He’s asked you to sing tonight?”

“He says he owes us a night of music.”

I groaned. I did not wish to see him again before we left. I wanted us to part ways in the most genial manner possible, but I didn’t trust myself. I feared if I caught sight of his face and his piercing blue eyes, I would also be reminded of his heart stopping kisses.

“Drat,” I mumbled.

“Please?” Daisy pleaded. “For me?”

“Fine. I imagine I can make one last appearance.”

Daisy jumped to her feet and giggled. “Thank you, thank you, Miss Amelia.”

I stood up and walked over to the chair ready for her to work her magic. “I guess we’d better get started. I haven’t dressed this nice in quite some time and I’m certain we are both a bit out of practice.”

Daisy shuffled around the room, grabbing whatever supplies she needed for my hair and gown, but I did not miss her broad smile. “Daisy?”

“Yes?”

“I wish for you to wear one of my dresses tonight, as well.”

Her hands froze midair. “I couldn’t, Miss.”

“Yes. I insist. If you want me to be present for your performance, you must agree to this.”

She blushed. “Very well.”

An hour later, I stood before her in the elegant emerald gown and slippers that she had painstakingly cleaned and repaired after Jack had found them at the river, though the color now appeared more of a light brown. And Daisy absolutely glowed in my pale-yellow dress. Though our measurements were slightly different, Daisy didn’t seem to mind.

She had also twirled my hair up into an exotic twist, one that I would often wear at a London societal event, then took a piece of ribbon off a dress that we used for patches and threaded it through my locks.

Though I had no mirror to inspect the final result, I slowly turned around, glancing downward as the skirt slightly flared. In truth, the garment felt different, not because of the minute repairs, but almost as if the person inside the gown was no longer the same person who had worn it only the month before.

Adorned with only my locket, I stared back at Daisy.

“Oh, Miss Amelia, you look absolutely divine.”

“As do you!” I laughed, trusting her opinion. I had not seen my reflection in nearly ten days’ time. “I have not been this nervous since my very first Season.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, Miss. It’s just us.”

I stared at her. Indeed, she was right. These were the very people who had become like a family to me.

“Are you ready to go down to supper?”

I seized an extra breath. I would need all my strength tonight.

I took the steps slowly and did not dare look up until a hand appeared before me. I expected it to be Diggs, but when I finally lifted my eyes, the hand was attached to the most handsome gentleman I had ever seen. With a clean chin and his locks cut short, Jack’s deep blue eyes met mine. Motionless on the second to last step, I could not get my legs to move.

“You look beautiful, Miss Amelia,” he said with his familiar low timbre that threaded through me and tickled on its way out.

He wore a fitted black suitcoat, blue waistcoat that matched his eyes, and a snow-white cravat, while the glowing fire lights around us sculpted his fine jawline, marred only by faint bruises.

Pure perfection.

His hand did not move from its raised position until I slipped mine inside. I took an extra breath to steady myself as he tucked my arm inside his and led me to the dining table where it was set as elaborately as one might find at an elegant London dinner. The dozen candlesticks glowed over the beautiful white bone china edged in gold. I had not seen these dishes before. Smiles around the table met mine as Jack led me to the seat beside his.

“Thank you,” I managed to say. “What’s the occasion?”

Jack glanced at me as his lips lifted into a partial smile. “I wanted to thank you all for the company this past week and a half.”

I arched a brow.

“I know you did not plan to be stranded in my home, but I am thankful you were.” He lifted his glass and clinked it against mine. “I will always be grateful to have met you, Miss Amelia.”

His words had a solemn, sorrowful tone to them. After all, this was our last night together.

Nothing more was said between the two of us as the conversation around the table was filled with memorable moments since the day we arrived. Some we could finally laugh over, and others we could not. It had been quite the most eventful week and a half for each of us and while part of me celebrated its end… the other part of me mourned it.

When Ennis departed for the village this morning to hire a coach, he also posted several overdue letters. One to my father, one to Henrietta Duncan written in Mr. Duncan’s hand, and another one to my aunt. Though it was likely I would reach Bridport before my letter would.

Once the meal had ended, we all gathered in the great room where the furniture had been pushed aside and the rug rolled up, creating a makeshift dance floor. My heart thundered in my chest. Since the moment a night of dancing had been mentioned, I desired nothing more than to be in Jack’s arms; even now I longed for it, but could I surrender my heart? Would relenting to Jack’s charm disassemble Peter’s memory and the ultimate sacrifice he made for his country? The sacrifice he made for me?

When Mr. Gentry snatched up his violin, I drew in a breath, my nerves buzzing with anticipation. A lively country dance erupted from the strings, and I let out a soft sigh as Jack whisked Mrs. Gentry to the center of the floor. Ennis grabbed Daisy’s hand and Diggs tugged Anna along.

Within seconds, the infectious cheer of the music and dancers’ vigor pulled me into the rhythm. I clapped along, swept up in the moment. The heaviness that dragged me down earlier vanished, replaced with the light-heartedness I craved.

When one dance ended, another one began, and Diggs kindly asked me to join him. He said very little and was a bit awkward in the steps, but we had a delightful time. Jesse became my next partner, and Ennis my third.

When Daisy and Mr. Gentry drew together, they appeared to be conspiring; and conspire they did. The notes to the Patriot Waltz began and, at once, I recognized what they were up to. My eyes inadvertently flashed to Jack’s, who met mine with a smile. He strode so beautifully toward me that I forgot we stood in the center of a hunting lodge. Studying him now in his stylish attire, one would never have suspected him of being anything but a devastatingly handsome gentleman.

“Might I have this dance, Miss Amelia?” He held out his hand and peered at me from a low bow.

I took his hand. “It’s Amelia, good sir,” I whispered. “We are friends, are we not?”

He arched a brow and his lips lifted in the partial grin I adored. “I hope we are and will always be.”

His words seemed to reach in and clutch my heart. As a response seemed to escape me, I could only nod.

As his arm swept around my back, he held my other hand in his, drawing me close—closer than what society would deem proper, but that hardly mattered here, far from Almacks’ rigid rules. I didn’t resist.

He cradled me with such tender sweetness that I longed to freeze time and stay rooted in this memory forever.

Twirling to the music, we let the atmosphere envelop us as a quiet calm settled in—not the silence of unease, but the warmth of contentment.

When Mr. Gentry struck the final note, Jack leaned in, his voice low. “May I speak with you privately?”

My heart flipped in my chest. I allowed him to guide me from the bustling great room into his study, his hand never leaving mine. The last time we had stolen away to this room felt like a distant memory, one I savored deeply.

He led me further in, only closing the door enough to shield us from curious eyes, though not completely.

Holding my hand, he beheld me. “Please know, Amelia, that I love my country.” He brought my hand to his lips and lightly kissed my knuckles. “I love the people and would never knowingly cause it or them harm.”

I held my breath as he turned my hand over and kissed my palm. My heart confirmed his words. I knew this about him.

“I wish I could take back what happened in France or the Netherlands, but I cannot. No matter how much I wish my life had played out differently, I cannot change the past.”

While my breathing had increased with his proximity and touch, his words brought forth the very peace I needed to feel.

“I had no recollection of who I was or what I stood for and, if it weren’t for the Dupont’s, I would not be alive today. They saved me and will always be considered family, but I am British, whole and true.”

He kissed my wrist, then claimed both of my hands in his, holding my gaze.

“I can only prove my loyalty going forward. Please forgive me for not telling you sooner. I only feared that you might despise me, and I cannot bear the thought of that.”

I looked down at our hands. I was as guilty as he in our misunderstandings. “I bear the weight of sharing untruths myself,” I whispered. “You are not the only one who carries blame.”

He released one of my hands and nudged my chin upward so my eyes met his. “Do you think if we started over, I might have a chance to court you… properly? And in the form of an English gentleman.”

I held his gaze, allowing his love and tenderness to shine through.

“I don’t think I could ever return to a proper anything…” I chuckled. “At least not entirely.” I reminisced over the many propriety blunders I had rendered since my arrival and secretly enjoyed.

His lips lifted in a hopeful grin.

Running my fingers along his bare jaw and up through his short hair, I smiled. “Although this look is quite dashing…” I winked. “I also adore the wild side of Mr. Jack.”

He quirked a brow.

“Could I not have both?”

Silence stilled the room.

“You still want me?” he questioned solemnly.

I smiled again and nodded, though my smile was sufficiently buried with the swift movement of his lips upon mine, and for several blissful minutes, the room and all its contents dissolved around us.

When he drew back, he stayed close, whispering against my lips. “I know you need to go to Bridport and be with your aunt, but may I please visit you soon?”

The eagerness of his look stirred my heart. “I would be devastated if you didn’t.”

He met my smile. “Is a sennight too soon?”

I laughed. “It’s not soon enough.”