Heart’s Temptation Books 1–3

by Scott, Scarlett

  “Good morning, my dear.” He rose and favored her with a smile that unleashed his elusive dimple. “May I approach?”

  His formality struck her as almost absurd and yet she sensed that he was trying his best to make what was about to unfold as appropriate as possible. “You may,” she said, equally formal. She closed her book and put it to the side as he crossed the carpets.

  Her mind went back to the other, far more carefree times when they’d met in libraries. Her heart gave a pang. How she wished they could somehow return to those times. She simply wasn’t certain it would ever be possible. Nothing could erase the pain of his betrayal. Nothing could alter the course upon which they’d already set sail.

  When he reached her, he sank to his knees like a knight paying homage to a fair maiden. She would have appreciated the sweetness of his gesture had not the circumstances been so very grave.

  “Lady Arabella de Vere, I have wronged you and for that I am endlessly sorry. I will not insult you by begging your forgiveness because I understand you owe me nothing.”

  “Why play the role of dutiful suitor?” Her heart and mind were at a loss. He knew well how to charm her, but she was determined not to allow him to woo her this time. She wanted a lucid mind. Goodness, she needed time to process what had befallen her in the last day. “Surely it will not serve you now.”

  “I’ve earned your cynicism,” he surprised her by saying. “I told you once that I’m not fit to lick your boots, and it is not any less true today than it was then. You are my better in every way. I do not deserve you as my wife, and yet fate has decreed I must ask your hand.”

  “Fate has not decreed,” she corrected him, not willing to abandon her defenses. “You have decreed it.”

  “As have you,” Jesse pointed out to her.

  It was true. She had done her best to win his heart, all but throwing herself at him. “I own my part in this farce of ours. But I never sought to entrap you.”

  As he had done to her. The accusation hung unspoken between them.

  His eyes hardened. “If you can tell me with honesty that you love the duke and wish to pursue him, tell me now.”

  She stared at him, knowing she could not.

  “Say the words, Bella. I will not have a wife who loves another.”

  “I cannot,” she admitted softly.

  He took her hands in his. “Will you be my wife?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “It seems I have no choice.”

  “You may decline if you like.” His voice was harsh, even bitter perhaps.

  Of course she could deny him. But what would doing so accomplish? Only more foolish ruin and misery for her. “You know as well as I that I cannot,” she argued. “You’ve rendered any path other than marriage with you impossible for me.”

  “Hate me if you must. I know all too well I have earned your scorn, but I still require a definitive answer from you. Will you or will you not wed me?”

  She did not hate him, not at all. She was still hurt by his defection and the months of silence that lay between them. She was confused by his assertion that he’d left a letter with his manservant and had written her dozens more. It made no sense, but then, neither did his sudden reappearance in her life.

  All in all, she didn’t know precisely what it was she did feel for him, which was the crux of the matter. She supposed that perhaps she shouldn’t care since the white flag had already been raised. “Yes,” she said simply, surrendering.

  He brought her hands to his lips for a kiss. “I will be true to you, Bella. I promise to do my utmost to make amends for what I’ve done.”

  Bella wasn’t certain he could make amends, but there was some comfort in knowing he intended to try. “As will I be true to you,” she returned.

  Jesse leaned into her skirts, and she could clearly tell his intent was to kiss her. Even as her heart tripped over itself in excitement, she turned her cheek, leaving him with no option other than pressing a chaste kiss there instead. But he lingered, his breath fanning in a hot wave over her face, down her neck. He kissed her again, his palms coming between them to cup her jaw. With a gentle deliberation, he turned her face until their gazes met and their lips nearly touched.

  “You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  His admission shook her. How she wanted to believe there was more to his hasty actions than misplaced honor. How she longed to believe he harbored tender feelings for her, mayhap even loved her as he’d claimed to her brother. And she had missed him as well, she realized, allowing herself to feel some of the emotions her stubborn heart had locked away. She still wanted him with an ache that was as physical as it was intangible. She was startled to realize that while she’d thought so much had changed for her in his absence, in actuality, it had not.

  Bella couldn’t seem to keep her hands from caressing his beloved face. She searched his gaze, unable to determine what she found in the sky-blue depths. “Jesse.” When she would have said more, the words were lost to a sob she hadn’t known she’d been withholding. Truth be told, she’d been utterly lost without him.

  “Don’t cry, my darling,” he murmured.

  She couldn’t seem to stop the tears that began streaming down her cheeks. Her entire body shook with the power of her confused emotions. He crushed her to him and kissed her at last. Being in the secure strength of his arms was like a homecoming. His mouth slanted over hers and she opened to him. The familiar taste of him mingled with the salt of her tears. He kissed her as he’d never before kissed her, at once tender and yet hungry, with a newfound possessiveness.

  He pulled back, breathing as heavily as she. He brushed a runaway tendril of hair from her face. “Bella, my love. You have made me a happy man.”

  The term of endearment was not lost on her. Against the stern misgivings in her mind, she leaned into him, taking his lips for her own this time. Their tongues tangled. She inhaled deeply, filling herself with the scent that was uniquely his and uniquely divine. The kiss turned voracious. Her fingers sank into his thick golden hair. God, how she had missed him.

  How she loved him still.

  The horrible realization sent her reeling. Suddenly, it was all too much for her. She shoved him away and retreated back into the upholstery of the settee. Gasping for breath, she pressed a hand to her swollen mouth. What had she been thinking to allow such liberties between them? She could not afford to blindly trust in him again. When he’d left it had nearly killed her.

  “I shall need time, Jesse,” she said at last. “I am sorry.”

  “I understand. Forgive me. I didn’t intend for that to happen.”

  She believed him. The sudden combustion between them had been as mutual as it had been unexpected. She lowered her head to gaze at her hands, tightly laced in her lap lest she be tempted to touch him again.

  “I have a ring for you,” Jesse said, reaching into his coat. “Christ, I’d almost forgotten. I hope you find it to your liking.”

  He took her hand again, slipping a ruby ring upon her finger. The stone itself was breathtaking, quite large and deep in color. It nestled in an elaborate setting of filigree. The fit was perfect. Their betrothal was sealed.

  “It is lovely, thank you.” She hadn’t thought about a ring, and now everything seemed much more final.

  “It belonged to my mother,” he told her, his tone turning wistful. “Though I never knew her, I was told she was a strong and beautiful woman, just as you are.”

  Despite her best attempts to harden her heart, she was secretly thrilled that he would entrust his mother’s ring to her. “I shall treasure it always.”

  He raised her hand to his lips for another kiss. “Thank you, Bella. I love you more than I can say, my darling.”

  His pronouncement produced a visceral reaction in her. He had never told her he loved her before, and the weakest part of her was overjoyed. He had nothing to gain now. She had already acquiesced. But that didn’t mean she trusted him. Or should trust him
, for that matter. She had to keep a clear head.

  She did not wish for their conversation to become too sentimental. Exercising prudence, she turned her mind to another topic. “There is still much for us to discuss if we are to form an alliance. I should like to make the acquaintance of your daughter.”

  He smiled, his dimple becoming pronounced once more. “I would dearly love for you to meet Clara. She is a victim in all of this mayhem too.”

  For the first time, the fact that he had a daughter became real to her. She hadn’t wanted to think of her, not even by name. Her existence had been too painful to contemplate. “I look forward to meeting her.” Surprisingly, she did. After all, the girl would be a part of her married life. She could not help the frustrating circumstances of her birth and life.

  “Your brother wishes a socially acceptable length of courtship, so I expect we shall have time aplenty to spend together.” He kissed her hand again. “I will make this up to you, Bella. I vow it.”

  As he took his leave of her, she hoped he was right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I will not allow it!” The dowager punctuated her proclamation with an uncharacteristically childish stomp of her foot. “Absolutely not, Thornton. She. May. Not.”

  Bella winced as her brother sighed and closed his eyes, clearly trying to gather his patience as much as his wits. The deed was done. Bella was officially to become Mrs. Jesse Whitney. They had reserved the most troublesome portion of the process for last. Informing the dowager that her daughter was to be given in marriage to an American was not exactly unfolding with the grace Bella and Thornton would have preferred. To say their mother was in high dudgeon was a vast understatement.

  The dowager was positively livid. “An American, of all things. She was within reach of a coronet. She was to have been a duchess!” She let out a low, funereal moan. “Have you any idea how close she’s come to getting what she deserves? I’ve been reading his letters, and I tell you that he was about to propose!”

  “You read my letters from the duke?” Bella stared at her mother in shock. The dowager had been rummaging through her private correspondence? The letters had always been sealed. Bella hadn’t suspected for a moment. How dare she? Her indignation was lost, however, as her brother took the reins of the conversation.

  “Mother, cease your howling at once,” Thornton ordered. “Bella, her ladyship is deplorably calculating and you ought to have known that by now. Both of you, I have made my decision, and that is final.”

  “Decision? You dare to suggest you have deliberated upon this, this farce? Why, it is insupportable. I fear your alliance with that woman has rendered you quite mad.” The dowager’s expression was as intense as her tone. Never mind the presence of “that woman” in the chamber in which they all sat. “Perhaps you have fallen into drink as I often feared you would. Next I shall be visiting you as you die of delirium tremens in a hospital for the poor.”

  Bella cast her sister-in-law an apologetic glance. Cleo shrugged and gamely rolled her eyes, well accustomed to the dowager’s antics.

  “Spare me your temperance society ramblings and theatrics,” Thornton bit out. “Apologize to my wife, if you please.”

  “Thornton,” the dowager protested, her chin actually trembling as if she might burst into a fit of hysterical tears at any moment.

  “Apologize.”

  “Very well.” She sniffed, her chin instantly ceasing to tremble. “I am sorry, Lady Thornton, for abusing you in the heated thrall of my soliloquy.”

  “No insult taken, madam,” Cleo murmured, giving Bella a quick wink.

  Bella was grateful for Cleo’s calming presence. Her mind was still whirling with the sudden changes the last few hours had wrought upon the rest of her life. She had been dreading her mother’s reaction to the news with a ferocity that was unmatched.

  “You cannot want to wed him, Bella?” Her mother turned on her with a look of expectation. “You cannot want to live in a land of rabid kangaroos and insects the size of horses. Why, they have monstrous creatures there. I’ve heard they possess horrid diseases that make men lose their ears. I daresay the Lord will see fit to sink the entire island into the sea.”

  “Maman,” Bella said, not knowing where to begin, “America is not an island.”

  “It is unseemly to contradict one’s mother.” The dowager harrumphed. “I asked you a question, daughter. Do you truly wish to wed that man?”

  Would that the answer was uncomplicated and unencumbered by weighty emotions and doubt. But she knew what she must do. She could not marry the duke, and the plain truth of it was that she’d been writing him as much the day before when Cleo had rushed into her chambers. Jesse Whitney had not changed her heart, even if he had forced her into being his wife. “I do wish it, Maman. If it causes you distress, I apologize, but I must do what is right.”

  “But it cannot be what is right.” The dowager began fanning herself. “Indeed, it is altogether wrong.”

  “The facts are plain,” Thornton said, stepping back into the verbal fray. “Mr. Whitney cares for Bella. He has a more generous income than most men in our social circle could even dream of calling their own. He has promised to look after her, and I take him at his word. As for Bella going to America, he has assured me that he and Bella will take up residence in London upon their nuptials.”

  Bella hadn’t expected he would want to remain in England. She was startled to realize the question of their living arrangements had never even occurred to her. She had been so caught up in the web of haunting emotions and yearning that she had entirely overlooked the more practical facets of their future life together.

  “Has he a home in London, then?” Although the dowager still seemed rather overset by the news of Bella’s engagement, she showed signs of softening. Bella was certain it was Thornton’s talk of a generous income that had proved the cure to her upset spirits.

  “I am to understand he has taken one in Belgravia,” Thornton affirmed. “It is surely more than suitable to a woman of Bella’s means and station. Moreover, he has refused to take her dowry. He hasn’t any need of it.”

  Good heavens. Her life had been decided already, without her ever having been the wiser. It was awfully arrogant of Jesse to assume he would win her. He’d purchased a home, had arranged every last detail as if she would be his.

  The dowager appeared somewhat placated, perhaps by the news of the dowry more than anything else. “I will have to commission a trousseau.”

  “Naturally, Mother.” Thornton bowed. “You have carte blanche.”

  “Just so.” Their mother sniffed. “I would expect nothing less, Thornton.”

  Their courtship began without fanfare. The same afternoon as the dowager’s reluctant capitulation, Jesse was to bring his daughter to the drawing room for her official presentation. The dowager was to preside over their afternoon visit in the interest of both propriety and familial harmony. The dowager was not yet ready to relinquish her position as de Vere family matriarch, and Cleo was, to her credit, willing to entertain the dowager’s demands and politely bow out in this instance. Meanwhile, Thornton was taking no chances with Bella’s reputation after the way the situation had played out already. She was thankful for that much at least, even if it meant suffering an uncomfortable interview with her dragon mother.

  But perhaps the dowager would lend a calming air to the affair. Bella was unaccountably nervous to make the girl’s acquaintance. After all, she was to become her stepmother. She wished to make as an advantageous impression as possible. Their circumstances would not be ideal, it was true, for she knew the girl had only recently lost her mother. But she hoped to be a true companion to Clara. She hadn’t the slightest notion of what to expect from a young girl. She could only hope that Clara would be kind and gentle, willing to make friends with a woman she’d never met.

  “Are you very certain this is what you wish, daughter?” the dowager asked of Bella as they waited for their guests to be announced. “
You’ll recall that even now, the Duke of Devonshire thinks it may be his great earthly joy to call you his duchess.”

  “As certain as I may be of anything,” Bella returned with bare honesty. “While the duke has been a faithful correspondent to me and a most appreciated friend, I fear that we are not suited after all.”

  The truth was that she wasn’t precisely certain of her alliance with Jesse. After all, there remained a host of questions that needed answering. He had left in the midst of the night only to return months later with a grown daughter in tow. There was also the matter of his claiming to have written her dozens of letters she’d never received. Bella was quite confused by his assertion. He had never lied to her in the past, but his abrupt departure did not exactly engender a sense of trust. In fact, she was quite hopelessly confused. But she did know that Jesse had made it impossible for her to wed the duke any longer, and that furthermore, she hadn’t wanted to wed Devonshire anyway. It was all rather a mess.

  There wasn’t, however, time for her to dwell on the questions swirling in her mind. The drawing room was set for tea. It was all to be quite properly done. There was no reason for her to feel as if her heart were about to pop inside her chest. None at all. She swallowed and picked at an imaginary wrinkle in the overskirt of her gown. She very much hoped this first meeting would go well.

  She had the opportunity to take a deep breath for composure’s sake as Levingood appeared, formally announcing Jesse and his daughter.

  Her eyes went to Jesse first. Their gazes clashed and he sent her a tentative smile. He was as nervous as she, it seemed. His daughter was a petite creature indeed, standing at his side with a stiffness of posture that suggested either uncertainty or disdain. Bella was not certain which. Dressed in austere mourning weeds, she was an ethereal blonde and rather lovely. Even Bella had to admit she very much took after Jesse, though she had initially questioned the girl’s lineage.

  “Miss Whitney,” Bella greeted with as much warmth as she could muster with worry swirling through her. Her stays seemed suddenly tighter. It was surreal meeting Jesse’s daughter.