Excerpt of The Bride Ransom by Tracey Jane Jackson

Andrew stood in the corner of the ballroom, watching the private exchange between Samuel and Gwendolyn, and seethed.

"Andrew, it’s your sister’s special day." Jamie handed him a drink. "Why do you look as though you’re going to kill Gwen?"

"Not Gwen." Andrew took the drink from him. "Samuel."

"Ah."

As the guests milled around them, Andrew tried to keep his voice quiet. "Look at him. He’s all over her," Andrew complained.

"Is he?" Jamie sipped his drink.

Andrew tipped his drink toward them. "Yes, look at the two of them."

"I am looking."

Andrew scowled. "He keeps touching her."

Jamie shrugged. "Then put a stop to it."

Andrew stared into the glass. "I don’t have the right."

"Why don’t you have the right?"

"I walked away, Jamie. She’s made a different choice."

Jamie chuckled quietly. "Yes, it certainly appears that she’s done that."

Andrew slowly let out the deep breath he held.

"With Samuel," Jamie added.

"Yes, Samuel." Andrew frowned.

"Her good friend."

"Yes, her good friend." Andrew turned and scowled at his friend. "What are you trying to say, Jamie?"

"You’re an idiot, Andrew." Jamie smirked. "I say that with all due respect. But, seriously, you’re a moron."

Andrew growled.

"Look at them," Jamie pressed.

Andrew glared.

"Look. At. Them," Jamie said a little more forcefully.

"I am looking at them!" He postured with his drink, nearly spilling the liquid over the rim. "He keeps kissing her."

"He keeps kissing her hand, Andrew."

"So?"

"He hasn’t touched her face, or kissed her cheek, or made any other romantic gestures towards her." Jamie raised an eyebrow. "He hasn’t even kissed her fingertips."

"How is that relevant?"

"Look. At. Them."

Andrew turned and watched their interaction.

"Watch them closely. Not from a spurned lover’s perspective, but try to see it from her perspective. Every touch is somewhat impersonal. There’s nothing intimate about those two."

"What do you mean?"

"When I courted Sophie, I couldn’t get enough of her. Her skin, her smell, her hair. I touched it all. I especially loved her neck." Jamie went off into his own world for a minute. "Sorry. Anyway, her hand was only one of many parts of her that I touched."

"I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about."

"That’s because you’re refusing to see it. He doesn’t kiss her palm or her wrist. Not even her fingers, Andrew. He kisses the top of her hand and that’s it. Take the blinders off and look." He clapped Andrew’s shoulder and walked away to join Sophie.

Andrew reeled as he tried to see what Jamie saw. Sipping his whiskey, he stared at Gwen and noticed she would occasionally look his way. When she moved away from Sam and out of the room, Andrew decided to follow.

Setting his half-empty drink on a table, he walked into the hall. "Gwen?"

She stopped, mid-stride, but didn’t turn.

"Gwen? Look at me, please." As if in slow motion, she turned to face him, tears streaming down her face. Heart pounding, Andrew quickly closed the distance between them. "What did he do?"

"Who?"

"Samuel."

Gwen frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You’re upset." Andrew narrowed his eyes. "What did he say to you?"

Gwen wiped her tears away angrily and turned away. "You’re an idiot."

"Gwendolyn," he growled.

"Go away, Andrew."

"And if I don’t?" He gently grabbed her arm and pulled her into the library.

"What are you doing?" Gwen gasped as he turned her to face him and gently cupped her face while he pushed her against the wall.

Leaning down, he proceeded to take her mouth hostage. She grabbed his forearms, and he felt her body sag as he intensified his assault. His tongue teased her lower lip and she grasped the lapels of his jacket. I have been an idiot.

He’d been so blind. Andrew broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers. "Sweet Gwendolyn." He stroked her cheek, her tears dampening his fingertips. "I am so very sorry."

Gwen sobbed. "Why, Andrew? Why are you doing this?"

He cupped her cheek. "Doing what, sweetheart?"

She pushed him away, and the feel of her tiny hand on his chest elicited a physical response. He shifted his weight and took a deep breath. Gwen started to pace. "This! You walked away from me years ago, and you continue to walk away from me."

"I actually limp away, beautiful."

"Andrew!"

Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm. "A bad jest. Please continue."

"No." She tried to pull her hand away.

He pulled her to him. "Please, continue, Gwen. I’m sorry for making fun."

"You kiss me, but hold another woman in your arms as though you love her," Gwen accused. "I don’t know what to think."

"Are you referring to Ann?" Andrew smiled down at her. "Ann is a friend, nothing more. The only reason she was ‘in my arms,’ as you so eloquently put it, is because she has a nasty injury to her foot and cannot walk."

"That doesn’t negate the fact that you can’t just pull me into your arms and kiss me as though you have the right."

"Gwendolyn, it’s complicated." He released a frustrated sigh.

Pushing away from him, she turned toward the fireplace. "What’s complicated, exactly?"

"The events surrounding my separation from you."

Gwen hissed over her shoulder. "They’re events now? You act as though you didn’t have a choice."

"I would consider the war an event, Gwendolyn." He fisted his hands at his side. "And certainly not a choice."

She turned to face him again. "Fine, but after you came home, you pushed me out of your life. You alone. You cannot sit here and make it sound as though, in that instance, you didn’t have a choice."

"I didn’t have a choice." His hands grasped the back of the chair, knuckles white. "I had to protect you."

Gwen stomped her foot and scowled at him. "Protect me from what, exactly? War? I know about war, Andrew. My brother, Quincy, is knee deep in it! Could it be you were protecting me from something else perhaps?"

Andrew reached out to take her hand. She pulled back. "I was protecting you from me."

"That’s crap!"

"Gwen!" Andrew was shocked by her use of a word not common to their time. Hannah must be influencing her.

"No, Andrew. You don’t get to make this about your misguided sense of honor." She sidled past him and walked out the door.

Andrew smiled. He knew what he needed to do now. She loved him and he would never let her go.