Page 67 of Forsaking All Others

“Yes.”

“But you said…”

“I didn’t kill them,” he sighs heavily, “I gave them a nip and Starlen did the rest.”

“Ugh,” I shudder.

“I know, but I must be true to myself. I made a vow. Honour dictates I adhere to it. There’s just something about your blood… I have to know, Catriona. Is your family entirely human?”

“Completely and utterly,” I nod.

‘The literal truth.’

“Then nothing makes sense,” he sighs.

I move to change the subject before it becomes dangerous.

“Viscount, why the ribbon around my neck if not to prevent you biting me to death? Do the scars you caused disgust you that much?”

“No. They shame me,” he says quietly.

“Good,” I nod.

“How so?”

“You regret hurting me. You said you’d help me destroy my enemy, that you’d offer protection. Now I know I can trust you to stand by your honour.”

He looks down at his hands as I say this.

“Honour… all I can say is that I’ll do my best.”

‘Ah, so this is the reason he’s so melancholy. He’s done something dishonourable. I wonder what?’

“I don’t expect you to be perfect,” I reply gently as he raises his eyes to mine. “I’d say you’re only human, but you’re not. That doesn’t mean you can’t make just as many mistakes as we do. At your age you’d have to be a saint not to have done some terrible things.”

“Yes, I expect you’re right,” he murmurs, looking back down at his hands.

“And we’ve already established that I wouldn’t do well in a nunnery, so I can hardly marry a saint.”

“There’s no chance of that,” he snorts, looking back at me, his eyes having lost some of their hopelessness.

“Good.” I meet his gaze steadily. “I’ve told you what I need. Love is not what I’m here for. If I were to ask anything, it would be that I could at least respect the man I marry. If you strive for honour, then I respect that.”

“Then we’re aligned in our goals, Catriona.”

“We are?”

“I need a wife in name only. My future spouse will not have my heart or my children. But I can offer the things you seek: my name, my protection, an enviable lifestyle and, I hope, a mutual respect. If you win, we’ll both get what we came here for.”

“So, you’re not looking for love either, Viscount Speardon?”

“Call me Jaguar,” he frowns. “I just said as much.”

“Strange then that you’ve come on a show where you’re surrounded by women sacrificing their hearts, but you don’t want what they’re offering.”

“Less and less every day,” he murmurs.

“Then why not just get a wife in the real world? You’re one of the most eligible bachelors on the planet; women fall at your feet daily. Why participate in this farce if not to find an extraordinary woman to love?”