Page 25 of Once Charmed, Twice Cursed
Ice coasts down my spine. He’s right, and the prospect of discovery casts a chill into my marrow. I can’t let the duke’s men haul me to the altar before I’ve convinced Jack to banish my Mark.
He sighs. “If anyone’s out there... It’s just chance right now. For as long as I’m in this room, neither of us has any luck, good or bad. Which means I should go.”
He’s right, and I hate it. I hate that sharing space exposes us.
“But you’ll come again tomorrow?” I say.
“Just for a minute.”
My attention drifts past him to the windows. No lights or lanterns bob in the woods, but I feel painfully vulnerable all of the sudden. Anyone roaming out there would probably glimpse the firelight from a quarter mile off.
Jack rises from the chair and carefully maneuvers around me. When he reaches the door, I remember to ask.
“How is she? Your friend?”
He turns so the firelight catches his profile, and I startle. I can’t understand why I thought of him as plain-faced yesterday, because even beneath the mask, the lines of his face hint at boldness.
“Better.” True warmth seeps into his voice. Whoever the woman on the other side of the wall is, he cares about her. “A little, at least. Thank you for that.”
“Could I visit her, maybe?”
He tenses. “Better not. She needs all the rest she can get right now.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay. I won’t bother her, then.”
“Thank you.” He reaches for the doorknob.
“Jack?”
“Yes? Do you need—” He turns to face me fully. And abruptly cuts off.
I try to imagine what I look like, kneeling here before the fire, backlit and glowing, with my braid hanging over one shoulder and my palms braced on my thighs.
Whatever he sees, it makes him hover there for far too long, his expression caught between a plea and a warning. Not that I can see much with that mask covering everything. But I get the gist, regardless.
“I can’t go back,” I tell him softly. “If I have to marry the duke, I’ll die.”
“Then I’ll stay away,” he says. “I’ll make sure no one finds you.”
I consider that. “There’s another option, you know.”
He sets his jaw. “Oh?”
“Yes.” I hunt for my courage. Thankfully, it’s easier to locate when I’m not face-to-face with Weston. “You could touch me again. For longer, this time.”
A choked sound comes from his throat.
“Not,” I hasten to add, “that I’m trying to seduce you, or anything. I just... I don’t want it. My Mark. I never have. I’d rather just be normal.”
He stands frozen, his gloved hand on the doorhandle. “You hate your luck that much?”
I dig my thumbs into the priceless, buttery silk of my nightgown. “I hate that it dictates everything about my life. Where I can go, who I can touch. Who I have to marry.”
“Right.” He laughs, short and hard and barren, as if I’ve just imparted deeply unpleasant news. “So you’re asking a Null to touch you. Of course that’s why.”
I frown. He thinks I’m trying to use him, clearly. “Touching me would free you, too.”
Another merciless laugh. “Yes, but what you’re asking... It can’t be undone. If you regretted...I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”
