by Robyn DeHart
She grew warm beneath the weight of his stare.
“I’m glad you are pleased.”
“Very much.” Then he gave his head a slight shake. “I already said that, didn’t I?”
“You did.” She took his outstretched hand. “You look rather dashing tonight, Jason.”
“I stand but in your shadow,” he said.
Her heart stuttered.
He led her forward to the staircase that would deposit them in the ballroom. But the closer they got, the more anxious she became. Panic seized her, and she froze.
“I can’t do this. I don’t know how to talk to such important people. They shall all be looking at me.” Judging me, and recognizing that I’m nothing more than an imposter.
“There is no one in that room more important than you or me. You are a princess. Moreover, you are a hero. Your quick thinking has helped remove the queen from danger.”
“No one in the room, save you, will know that,” she said.
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“I do not feel like a princess or a hero. I feel like a girl who was raised in a small school on the outskirts of town. Like a girl who never dared dream of balls or beautiful dresses.” Or a handsome husband.
“They are all people, just as we are.” He tilted her chin up so she met his gaze. “Isabel, breathe. You can do this, I promise.”
She looked away to the staircase that beckoned them forward. She shook her head.
“Isabel, look at me.” His voice was soft. Again, he pulled her chin to face him.
She reached up on her toes and kissed him. The moment his lips touched hers, calm spread through her. She backed away and gave him a tight nod. “All right, I’m ready.” She didn’t know why she felt stronger with him at her side, but it seemed to reinforce something in her.
“May I present to you Viscount and Viscountess Ellis,” the footman said loudly.
There was no turning back now.
Isabel had never given much thought to what she’d find attractive in a man, but now as she watched her husband move through the ballroom, she knew he stood out above the rest. Yes, there were other attractive men here, but Jason was different. Perhaps she was already biased in his favor, but no one moved as gracefully as he did. None of the other men walked with such purpose, such athleticism. Next to Jason, many of the other men seemed soft and uncoordinated.
Evie and Lilith had stayed close to her side once Jason had left to retrieve refreshments. They’d been whispering in her ears as they’d passed guests, giving her information on each. She’d spoken to so many people tonight she knew she’d never remember all their names, but in truth, she hadn’t felt too out of the fabric of the rest of the guests. This was her home, regardless of how she’d acquired it. No one here knew the truth about her marriage.
Of course, the evening wasn’t over yet. There was still plenty of time for her to trip over something and fall on her face. Her mother-in-law, Genny, as she’d insisted on being called, picked the perfect moment to come and be at her side since Lords Somersby and Lynford had come to collect their respective partners for the dance.
“You’re doing quite well,” Genny said.
“I am surviving, and I haven’t managed to do anything too embarrassing,” Isabel said.
“Nonsense. You’re being positively lovely. I saw you charm Lady Bentley, and she doesn’t like anyone.” Genny gave her a conspiratorial wink.
Isabel laughed. “She seemed rather impressed that I was a princess.”
“Yes, good breeding is of upmost importance to Lady Bentley.” Genny linked their arms, and they strolled to an open part of the room, giving Isabel a perfect glimpse of Jason as he stood at the refreshment table.
“And you are doing an excellent job of appearing to love my son. It shines all over your face.”
Isabel felt her face grow warm. Was she that obvious? Had Jason seen it, too?
“I know that my son is a tough nut to crack, as it were, but I also know it will be worth the effort.”
Isabel met Genny’s gaze and found the same blue eyes as Jason’s. And, as if Genny could read her thoughts, she said, “You are precisely the woman to do it. Be patient, and don’t give up on him.”
Isabel clenched her jaw against the tears she felt well in her eyes. She took a steadying breath and nodded. Isabel knew one thing for certain, Jason was never going to see their marriage as real, and therefore never fall in love with her, until she was his wife in every sense of the word.
…
Jason had been congratulated enough tonight for six lifetimes. He was tired of smiling and saying “thank you.” He wasn’t, however, tired of looking at his wife. She was stunning. Everyone noticed, and he’d be a liar if he said that he wasn’t enjoying the fact that the entire crowd was staring at her. He’d left her briefly to go and fetch refreshments, but she was safe from any would-be gossips with Evie and Lilith flanking her. He poured two glasses of lemonade.
“Can you imagine what that must be like? To not know you’re a princess?” a girl’s voice said from behind him.
“I think I’d know if I were royalty,” another replied.
“Well, if someone showed up tomorrow and told me I was a long-lost princess, I would buy everything in this town. People everywhere would quickly lose interest in Victoria, because I would be far more entertaining.”
“You are ridiculous,” the other girl said.
“Tell me you would not want all new clothes and such.”
Jason rolled his eyes and bit his tongue so he would not hand out a nasty response. Isabel was most assuredly not like the other women in this town. He suspected that these two were not the only ones who would have spent every penny he had upon discovering they were royalty. But Isabel had been uncomfortable with such gifts and shows of wealth. She was one of a kind.
He brought her the lemonade but had to hand the glass quickly to a footman as the final waltz began. “This is our dance, my dear.” He bowed to her, then swept her into his arms and onto the dance floor.
Isabel felt stiff in his arms as they moved around the room. Her eyes had a glazed look, as if being the center of everyone’s attention was making her slightly panicked.
“Isabel,” he murmured in a low voice. When she didn’t meet his gaze, he gave her waist a light squeeze to get her attention. “You might want to breathe now and again.”
Finally, her eyes met his. “I’m sorry.” But then her lips curved in gentle amusement. “Was I not breathing?”
“No.”
“It’s just that I didn’t expect everyone to be watching us.”
“You might be less nervous if we make conversation instead of concentrating on dancing.”
“Yes, I suppose that might work, and you are much more accomplished at that when there are others around,” she said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I meant only that you ignore me much of the time, but then when we have an audience, you dutifully play the doting husband.” She patted his shoulder. “It is understandable. That is the relationship we have, but it does make me wonder which of the Jasons I’ve seen is the real one.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are wickedly charming when you want to be, were exceedingly giving and friendly before we wed. And then, since I became your wife, you all but ignore me unless someone else is in the room,” she said.
“We are not having this conversation now.”
“Yes, we are, because were there not all these people here, you would have already walked away. Besides, you are the one who said we should talk while we danced.”
He wanted to argue, but he knew she was right, and she was right about his behavior. It was no wonder that she was confused. He’d behaved as if he were at least three different men.
“It’s complicated,” he said.
“That’s stupid.”
Two couples danced close to them, so they stopped talking and smiled at the other dancers.
>
“Perhaps I’ll be able to explain it to you someday,” he said, hoping to placate her.
“Until then I simply have to endure this behavior? Not knowing whom I’ll be with on any given day, or even if you’ll speak to me? That is unfair.”
“I know.”
“I wish it were as easy for me to turn off aspects of my character. It must make things simpler,” she said.
“Isabel, I am not a different person than the one you first met. Everything you’ve seen is me. Perhaps not all the most flattering parts of me.”
“You are hot and cold with me. One moment kissing me as if I’m the only woman you could desire, and the next speaking to me as if we’d only just met. I know I’m naive, but I can’t believe this is how marriages work.”
“No.” He met her gaze. “Never for a moment doubt that I desire you, Isabel.” He probably shouldn’t have told her that, but she’d had such pain in her voice. He could only torment her so much. Not to mention the torment he endured. He would not be able to resist her forever. He’d come to terms with that; he need only prevent her from getting with child.
…
Isabel should be exhausted. The ball had lasted way into the night, but now that she had resolved to seduce her husband, she found herself energized and fully alert. She took several deep breaths, eyeing herself in the mirror. Gone seemed to be the girl from St. Bart’s and before her a new creature. The thin gauzy shift shimmered over her body, hinting at her curves but not revealing them. She’d taken her hair down and allowed it simply to hang about her shoulders in thick dark curls. She could do this. She was his wife, he her husband. Their marriage would not be completely legal, therefore she would not be completely safe, until they’d consummated it.
She shivered at the thought of Jason’s hands on her skin. The kiss they’d shared the other day had nearly had her crawling onto his lap, and she could scarcely imagine what it would be like if he unleashed all his passion on her. He desired her; he’d told her as much at their wedding ball.
They hadn’t married under normal circumstances. Even the standard London marriages brought equal assets to both parties: a wealthy heiress got a better title and standing in Society, whereas the penniless earl filled his coffers once again. But Jason had married her simply to prevent her from marrying someone else to protect her and his country, likely not in that order. And perhaps he’d needed time to grow accustomed to such a situation. They might have a passionless marriage, but even if only for this one night, he needed to make it real.
She took one last glance at herself, then rolled her eyes and headed for the door.
Chapter Ten
Jason had left the ball and immediately went and spent the better part of an hour upstairs working his body into a frenzy of sweat and not stopping until his muscles ached. After bathing, he’d retired to the sitting area in his bedchamber where he began cleaning his weapon, as he knew trying to sleep would be futile. There was a rap at the door, and he looked up from his pistol.
“Enter,” he said. His hands stilled as Isabel stepped into his room. Although she was completely covered by her shift, the thin, filmy fabric left little to his imagination as it captured each curve. He forced his gaze to her face. “Everything all right?”
“Yes.” She came forward and lowered herself onto the sofa with him, although she left some distance between them.
He went back to cleaning his pistol, making certain to be as thorough as possible. He continued polishing the steel, so much so he was surprised he hadn’t wiped off the embossing. As long as his hands were occupied, he couldn’t reach out and touch her, which was more than tempting.
She inched herself closer to him.
“Isabel, did you come in here for a reason?”
“I want you to kiss me again.”
Her boldness surprised him. And aroused him. Innocence shone in her eyes, and he remembered the feel of her body pressed to his as they’d waltzed. How everyone had commented about what a stunning couple they’d made. Some believed they were desperately in love, while others whispered about how there must be an impending baby coming because, clearly, theirs was a match made from passion.
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” he said. He wanted to tell her the truth about why he couldn’t lose himself with her. But she deserved more, certainly more than he could give her.
She looked at her hands, folded in her lap. “You did tell me you desired me, so I assumed—”
“You do not believe what I said, that I want you?”
Her green eyes looked up at him. “What else could it be? You told me before we were married that your heart does not belong to another, so it cannot be that you are pining for your true love.”
He shook his head. “It is not that.”
“Then it must be me.”
“Isabel, there is nothing wrong with you. You are a beautiful woman, desirable in every way. Any man would want you as his wife.”
“Any man but you,” she said. “Perhaps I should have married some stranger in that inn.”
Her words were not a challenge, nor an accusation, only a statement of the truth she so obviously felt.
“Isabel.” It was all he managed before he pulled her to him and slanted his mouth across hers, moving gently before teasing her lips with his tongue. She made a tiny noise before allowing his tongue entrance. He explored her warm mouth, loving the feel of her, the taste of her.
Her fingers clenched against his chest, causing his erection to throb against his trousers until he thought he might completely lose control, but he couldn’t afford to do that. Especially over a kiss. Rather than risk it, he ended the kiss abruptly and leaned away from her.
She nearly fell over from his hasty release and grabbed the edge of the sofa to steady her balance, but that one kiss wasn’t enough. He needed a little more, so he pulled her over to him. He didn’t kiss her softly this time, didn’t take time to seduce her mouth. No, this time he took exactly what he wanted, the precise moment he wanted it. He plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, the warm wetness enveloping him, and he groaned and pulled her closer.
She met his kiss with equal fervor. She was not shy with her own tongue and melded hers against his in a passionate dance. God, he wanted her. Now. On the floor. On this sofa. Anywhere he could have her.
Her fingers slid up his chest in a slow tortuous move, up to his shoulders, around his neck, and finally landed in his hair. She released a distinctly feminine, distinctly erotic noise that sent blood surging to his groin.
He ran his fingers lightly across her collarbone, then dipped them under the fabric of her shift. Her skin was impossibly soft, velvety smooth, and deliciously warm. She was perfect. He continued kissing her. His hand slid up the front of her shift, and he cupped her breast. She released a throaty moan, arched against him. He wanted to touch her everywhere, see what other reactions he could pull from her. He dipped his hand down the front of her shift and found her nipple.
In that moment, she was his. Only his. His hand continued to rub at the tantalizing peak as he nibbled on her collarbone. He pulled the fabric low and molded his mouth on her breast, soft, round, and sinful. There was no time to think. He wanted only to touch, to feel. While his lips and teeth made love to her left breast, his hand weighed her right carefully, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the nipple. She bucked against him. He knew she was looking for her release, trying to feel him through the layers of his clothes.
She wanted him. He’d known that when she’d come in here, but it was clear now just how strong was her desire. She should not trust him so, especially since he clearly didn’t have her best interests at heart. Not now. No, now all he wanted to do was pull up her shift and plunge himself deep inside her, make her cry out his name and beg for more. But where would that leave her in the morning?
He couldn’t do that to her, and, unless he wanted to end up in such a position, he needed to stop. Walk away from their embrace, now, before they did somethin
g they both regretted. He moved away from her and came to his feet. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him, mouth agape. “What is the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
He found his breath was labored. He licked his lips and tried to calm his body. “No. It is I who did everything wrong.”
Jason didn’t know where to go after he left Isabel in his bedchamber, so he found himself marching down the stairs and straight to his study. He needed a drink. A strong drink.
He skipped the brandy, pulled out the decanter of scotch, and poured three fingers worth. With one great swig, he swallowed the liquid; it burned his throat and settled in his belly where it seemingly scorched a hole through his gut. But at least he could concentrate on that and not the expression on Isabel’s face as he’d left her. Not the smooth softness of her luminescent skin, and not the warmth and passion he found in her kisses.
He poured himself another scotch, then swore.
“It couldn’t be as bad as all that,” his mother said from behind him.
“Mother, you really shouldn’t sneak up on people in such ways. I’m not in the mood for company.”
“I don’t require your mood to be any such way.” She poured herself a drink, sipped it slowly, and took a seat in one of the wingback chairs.
They sat in silence for several moments, and Jason did his very best to ignore her presence, but that tactic had never worked with his mother. Somehow her mere presence seemed to lure him to talk.
“I can’t do this anymore, Mother. The weight of it is too strong. It will certainly be better for everyone if the truth were known,” he said.
“So it is to be this discussion again,” she said, her tone neither judging nor resigned. “Jason, we have been over this.”
“Yes, I know, but truthfully, keeping this secret is killing me. I would rather it be known and live through the aftermath. I can accept the full weight of the scandal. I will bear it all. Patrick will need do nothing, save take his rightful place as viscount.”
“My dear son, you know that London does not work that way. My reputation would be in ruins. I can live with that. In truth, it is no more than I deserve.” She took a slow sip of her drink. “And were I the only one to suffer, I would welcome the scandal, but you and I both know that it would not merely affect me or you.” She was silent for a moment, studying his face. “The truth would not only destroy you and me, it would destroy our entire family. Your brother’s name as viscount would be forever tarnished. Even though he is the legitimate heir, there would always be doubts. The rumors about him would never end, and they would carry over to his son. Is that truly the fate you want him to have?”
