Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Stephen looked up when Jilly walked in with Otis.

She stared at him, unblinking. Otis tiptoed away, and Stephen heard the door at the rear of the store open and shut again.

They were alone.

“Hello,” he said to her. He was busy making her that outdoor easel she’d wanted, the one she’d told him about when they’d lain in bed together at the Grosvenor Street mansion and daydreamed about improvements they’d like to make at Hodgepodge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her walk slowly over. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

Every muscle in him was tense. He put down his hammer, stood up, and took her by the arms. “I’m here to be with you,” he said.

She looked at him with hurt eyes. “It’s too late.”

Ah. Those were the words he’d dreaded hearing.

“I understand why you’re angry,” he said. “I deserve to lose you. You trusted me—and I disappointed you.”

She said nothing back.

His whole life revolved around this moment. “You were right.” He squeezed her arms. “I was acting like a boy, still pouting over the fact that I didn’t have the ideal family I so desperately wanted. But that’s no reason not to trust you. And not to understand why you had to lie.”

Her face softened a fraction. “I’m no longer interested in going to another country. I don’t want to spend my life hiding. Everyone has accepted me here, so … I’m staying at Hodgepodge.”

There was a brief pause.

“I’m glad,” he eventually said.

She looked at him a long time. “Lady Hartley claims you and she have an understanding. I know she’s been living at your house this whole time. And … and men have needs.”

She looked away.

Good God! Would that meddlesome woman never leave his life?

Gently, Stephen drew Jilly’s face back. “You don’t think that Lady Hartley and I would ever—”

He couldn’t possibly complete that sentence.

Jilly shrugged. “You’re a rake,” she whispered. “You never claimed to be anything else.”

“Well, I am now,” he said firmly. “I’m not the same man anymore. Not since I’ve met you. I love you, Jilly Jones. You’re the only woman I ever want to be with again.”

Jilly shook her head. “I don’t know if you understand. I’m staying in England. And so we can’t be together. I love you. But I can’t hide anymore.”

“I understand,” he replied softly. And he did. “But I have some news for you. It’s going to shock you, so perhaps you should take a seat.”

She stared at him a moment. “No,” she said. “Tell me now.”

He hesitated, as well. “If you’re certain.”

She nodded.

He took a deep breath. “Jilly Jones—”

“Jilly Broadmoor,” she said in a choked whisper.

He felt his eyes burn, just the merest fraction. “No,” he said, swallowing. “You’re not Mrs. Broadmoor.”

She looked at him as if he should be sent to Bedlam.

“Hector is married”—he hesitated—“but not to you. To someone else.”

Jilly flinched, but he took her shoulders and held her. “The charlatan was married eight years before he married you,” he said as kindly as he could.

She seemed to stare right through him.

He gave her a gentle shake. “It’s true,” he assured her. “I left him today after confronting him and his wife. He lives in Kensington. He was with you because he was evil. He was already married, but he wanted you as his property, as well.”

She gave a little cry.

Stephen gathered her into his arms. “He’s been taken to gaol.”

“What about his other wife?” Jilly whispered. “Is she all right?”

Stephen’s heart filled with more love for her than ever. “Don’t feel sorry for her. She knew about the whole arrangement. He was siphoning money off to her.”

Jilly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stared at him with an intent gaze. “This still doesn’t change things between us. You’re only with me now because it’s easy. But when you had to choose me or life in England, you chose England.”

He nodded again, stricken at the memory. “I had a feeling you’d say that. But I’ve told you. I’m not the same man anymore. You were right—all those things you said about my not being willing to grow up made perfect sense. You’ll have to trust me that I resolved to try again to win you—come what may—before I knew this news about Hector. I can never prove it to you, otherwise. But it’s the reason I went after him. I’d decided that he deserved a comeuppance. And then I was going to come to you and ask your forgiveness. After that, I was going to ask you to move with me to Italy or America—or any other place you wanted to live.”

Her brow puckered, and he waited patiently.

“Will you trust me?” he said eventually.

She looked at the ground. Then she looked back up at him. “I’m sorry, but I need more time. I’m so confused.”

His heart clenched. He had so hoped that today, she’d be his again. But he understood. “I’m sure the news about Hector has completely thrown you.”

She nodded shakily. “There’s so much to think about. Can you wait?”

“Of course,” he said, not wanting to burden her with his fear of losing her. She really had had a shock, and he wasn’t going to compound it with his own worries. “Now go upstairs and see Otis. Tell him the wonderful news. And get a cup of tea.”

She gave a shaky laugh. And then for a moment her face was radiant—as if she finally comprehended the truth.

“You’re free, Jilly. Free.” He let go of her hand reluctantly and watched her walk to the door in the back. This was one battle he couldn’t win by being aggressive.

She opened the door, turned around, and looked at him one more time.

And then, smiling shyly, she shut the door behind her.

Dear God, he prayed, next time it opens, let her come to me.