“Let’s not think of that at present.”

“Have we something more important to think of?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Us.”

She turned to face him on the bed. Their eyes met just as they had at dinner. Except now she was in her nightgown and he was in his shirtsleeves; exposed and vulnerable. An electric charge seemed to pass between them. She felt it in her soul—an alarming quake of longing.

“I mean to court you,” he said. “Just as you asked me to do before we married.”

She shook her head, flustered. “I didn’t—”

“You did. You said you wanted a month or two in order to know me better. You said you wanted to be courted.” Casting aside her hairbrush, he reached to cup her face. His large hand engulfed her cheek and jaw. “That’s what I mean to do,” he said. “I mean to woo you and win you, and when you’re sufficiently amenable to the act, I mean for us to consummate our marriage, here, in this bed.”

A scalding blush swept through her body. “That’s . . . That’s all very well, but after what you told me today about Dolly and the children . . . I’m not certain I can bring myself to—”

His hand tightened on her cheek. “I know that,” he said roughly. “You’re disposed to think me a monster. But I promise you—”

“Not a monster, no. Just . . . not the gentleman I thought you were.”

He stared down at her. “Did you truly believe me someone better?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” She looked deep into his eyes, past the frost-covered surface to the fathomless warmth beneath. “When I look at you like this, the man I see isn’t a man who could have done any of those things. I see someone else. Someone who’s honorable and good. That’s the man I wanted to share a first kiss with. The man with whom I could, eventually, share a bed.”

A spasm of emotion passed over his face. It was gone before Julia could grasp it. “I am that man,” he said.

“Jasper—”

“I am that man.” He bent his head to hers, his voice gone gruff. “And I will win back your trust, however long it takes.”

Her resolve cracked at the deep thread of sincerity in his words. She wished she could succumb. That she could forget everything he’d confessed to. But she couldn’t. No decent lady could.

“It might take a long while,” she said frankly.

“I can wait.” A grim smile edged his scarred mouth. “I’ve had a great deal of practice.”

Twenty-Five

Hunched over his desk, head resting in one hand, Jasper stared down at the script-covered sheet of paper in front of him. Scowling, he crossed out another sentence. The nib of his quill pen dripped a spatter of ink across the page. Blast it. This was the third time he’d used the same phrase to describe something.