by Yasmine Nash
“Oh, dear,” Louisa said. Poor Mildred.
And the gossip would hurt Jon’s reputation too, although he didn’t seem to care about that. Still, the weight of it must be difficult for him to bear. Louisa grabbed hold of his hand, stroking his fingers, then lifting them to her mouth and planting kisses on each one.
Jon allowed Louisa’s attentions at first, but when she moved to kiss his cheek, he drew back as though a switch had been flipped in his brain. “We’re in public, for god’s sake, Lou. You shouldn’t do that. Imagine if someone were to see us?”
“What? Through the windows?” she asked, with a little incredulous laugh. The windows were covered by thick curtains. Besides, it was nighttime. No one would be able to see inside. “There’s not much risk of that, is there?” She snuggled back against him, but he gently pushed her away again.
She looked at Jon in surprise. So he was really serious? A carriage was where he drew the line? He hadn’t had a problem with her being affectionate to him at any point over the last week. And she’d been doing a lot more than just cuddling with him.
“You’re my ward, or have you forgotten? It would create a scandal if anyone were to find us like this.”
“Yes, you keep reminding me of that,” Louisa said sarcastically. “It’s impossible to forget.”
She was getting tired of Jon’s constant attempts to put her at a distance. Just when it seemed like she was making a breakthrough, he would put up new barriers that she had to knock down. It was becoming exhausting. And worse than that, it made her feel expendable. As though he could toss her aside at any moment if he wanted to.
She did not care for that feeling one bit.
Jon ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “Louisa, you’re acting naive.”
If after all this time, he still thought of her that way, how was she supposed to proceed? So much for making progress.
“And you’re acting like an unfeeling cad,” she said hotly. She swallowed the other choice words she wanted to say to Jon, not wanting to add more fuel to his claim that she was immature. “I need some air,” she said instead.
At that moment, the carriage stuttered to a halt, likely to allow pedestrians to cross the road in front of it. Louisa took advantage of that to open the door and jump outside. A walk would clear her head, which was all in a jumble.
Jon pulled back the curtain on the window and glared at her. “What are you doing, Lou?”
“You don’t want my company, so I won’t force it on you. I’ll meet you back in Park Lane.”
Jon rubbed his hand over his face. “It’s dark outside. And dangerous. You’re being—”
“What? Childish?” She began walking away, but just then the carriage began to move again, keeping pace with her.
“Yes!” he snapped. “I’m glad you can recognize that.” Louisa ignored him and kept walking. Jon withdrew his head back inside the carriage window, but not before she heard him instruct the driver to keep pace with her.
The carriage crawled along beside the rest of the way to Park Lane, but she and Jon didn’t speak again. Things had been going so well between her and Jon over the past week. How had it gone so wrong so quickly? Her heart clenched. Perhaps he was sick of her already. Maybe, as soon as things with Mildred were finally settled, he’d send her back to Devonshire alone.
Doubts swirled n her head the entire walk back. When they finally arrived at their residence, Jon turned to her. “Good night, Lou,” he said quietly, letting his gaze linger on her before he turned and went up the stairs to his bed.
Was she imagining how final that simple good night had seemed? And why were tears leaking from her eyes? Maybe Jon was right and she was a child after all. She went up to bed and willed herself to sleep.
* * *
The next morning, Jon was determined to act as though his argument with Louisa hadn’t happened.
To be honest, he wasn’t even sure how it had happened in the first place. One moment, he was urging her to be discreet, the words of his friend still ringing in Jon’s ear, the next moment Louisa was jumping out of the carriage.
Still, today was a fresh day. Jon refused to dwell in the past.
At breakfast, Louisa returned his greeting, although it was cooler than usual and she didn’t engage him in her normal cheerful chatter. He frowned. How long was she going to hold onto this?
Thinking to change the mood in the breakfast parlor, he said, “I had a letter this morning. Henry Northam and his wife are leaving town tomorrow. They’re hosting a final get-together at their home tonight, and we’re invited.”
As he’d hoped, Louisa seemed to perk up at the news. “That’s gracious of them. It will be so good to meet the two in person and thank them again.”
Jon agreed. He and Louisa had already stopped by the Northam residence earlier in the week to express their gratitude, but it wouldn’t hurt to do so again. Henry had gone out of his way to help them out, after all.
The day passed quickly, with Jon tying up more loose ends and Louisa keeping Mildred company yet again. That evening, Louisa wore one of her new gowns. It was a deep scarlet color that perfectly complemented her complexion. The cut of the gown hugged all of her curves in just the right places. After a few moments, Jon realized he was staring and shook his head. She smirked, clearly aware of the effect she’d had on him.
“Shall we go?” she asked over her shoulder.
In addition to Jon and Louisa, several of the Northams’ other friends were also present. There was George Northam, Henry’s brother—Jon made a silent promise to thank the man in person at some point in the evening—and Henry’s friend Charles Camden, plus several young ladies Jon wasn’t acquainted with, who he figured to be friends of Mrs. Northam. And—
“How do you know Jacob Pettyfer?” Jon asked Henry in shock, spying his neighbor and Miss Pettyfer merrily chatting with the other guests.
“A friend of my brother’s,” Henry said with a grimace. “I can’t stand the fellow, if I’m being honest, but figured I owed it to George to oblige him on this.”
“Of course,” Jon said hurriedly. “I just hadn’t realized he and his sister were in London. I left them behind in Devonshire not two weeks ago.” He trailed off, his eyes fixed on Jacob Pettyfer. The man had just walked over to Louisa and was now whispering in her ear.
Jon had successfully gone years without seeing the Pettyfers, but now they seemed to constantly be in his presence. Jon did not think he had the patience to stand by and watch Jacob flirt with Louisa tonight. He’d had enough difficulty restraining himself before. At that picnic a few weeks back, he’d wanted to box the man’s ears for the way he’d been leering at Louisa, especially while he’d read that thinly veiled riddle with that smarmy grin.
“—your sister.”
“What?” Jon looked up with a start. He realized Henry had been speaking to him for the past few minutes and he hadn’t taken in a single word his friend had said.
Henry glanced sympathetically between Jon and Louisa. “Is it that bad?”
“What do you mean?” Jon asked, feigning disinterest.
“I know a lovestruck look when I see one,” Henry said kindly. “My advice, if you haven’t done so already: talk to her. I nearly lost Alexa because of my stubborn pride.” And with that, Henry patted Jon on the shoulder sympathetically and went off to talk to his friend Charles Camden.
Jon scoffed inwardly. It wasn’t that easy. He’d talked to Louisa last night, and look what had happened. He tried to distract himself by following the conversation around him, but his gaze kept wandering back to Louisa and Jacob over the course of the evening. For the life of him, Jon couldn’t even remember a single dish he’d eaten over supper.
Was the man glued to her side or something? Jacob hadn’t left Louisa alone from the moment they’d arrived.
Jon tried to gauge whether Jacob’s overt attentions were welcomed by Louisa. She smiled and laughed often, but that was nothing unusual. She was usuall
y smiling. Unless she was angry at Jon, in which case she’d glare.
The party gathered in the drawing room after the meal was complete. George, Jacob, Louisa, and another young lady sat at cards, while Alexa Northam was entreated by her husband to give the gathered company a musical performance. With a shy smile, Alexa took up residence at the pianoforte and effortlessly began playing one of Beethoven’s sonatas.
For a few minutes, Jon was lost in the music, all other thoughts forgotten. He was jolted back to the present by a low voice speaking close to him.
“I wonder if I can guess your thoughts?” Mariella Pettyfer asked, a flirtatious grin lifting her full lips
“I doubt it,” Jon said, uninterested in engaging with her.
Mariella was undaunted. “You’re wondering how women can be so coldhearted,” she said. “One day, she’s smiling with you; the next, she’s laughing with another man.”
Jon looked at her in surprise. How did she know..?
She laughed at his expression. “Don’t worry; it’s not obvious to everyone. I just have a special sense with these matters. Call it women’s intuition.”
“And what does your intuition tell you about your brother and Miss Kellynch?” Jon asked reluctantly.
Mariella tapped a finger on her chin as she watched the two across the room. Finally, she said, “I don’t believe either one of them is serious. My brother seeks out fun and Miss Kellynch is just trying to make you jealous, I think. There’s certainly no real attachment between the two.”
Jon’s shoulders sagged in relief despite himself. Foolish of him to have even thought there was anything to worry about.
Mariella was watching Jon very closely now. “What you should be asking is what my intuition is telling me about Miss Kellynch and you, Your Grace.”
“What are you talking about?” he blustered. He had let this conversation get out of hand.
“I sense real emotion on your part,” Mariella said. “But I’m afraid that sincerity is not matched by your ward. She has a calculating mind, Your Grace. I worry she’s been taking advantage of your good heart and generous nature. I don’t think she loves you.”
Jon had had quite enough. “I thank you for your conjectures, but from now on, keep them to yourself,” he said coldly. “I have no wish to hear them.” He stood and walked away, depositing himself in the middle of a boisterous group of people where Mariella could not sneak up on him again.
Women’s intuition. Did she think he was a fool? Jon had no idea what game Mariella Pettyfer was playing, but he wanted no part of it.
Even so, he couldn’t stop her words from replaying in his mind. Calculating heart. That didn’t sound like the Lou he knew. A loud giggle drew his gaze. Louisa’s head was tossed back and she was struggling to contain her laughter at something Jacob had said.
Jon felt jealousy burn in his chest. He tried to tell himself he was just worried about her reputation. It was completely improper to flirt so outrageously in public; what would people think? He looked around at the other guests, but no one else had even seemed to notice. Alexa Northam had begun another song on the piano and most people were engrossed in watching her performance. Jon willed himself to do the same.
* * *
Louisa smiled weakly at Jacob. He had told her yet another unhumorous joke, and she was getting sick of pretending to laugh. She would have excused herself and left him an hour ago, except she was secretly hoping the duke was watching and growing jealous. It would serve him right. Even so, she didn’t think she could stand much more of this.
She had made up her mind to make up with Jon and enjoy the rest of the evening with him when she saw Mariella Pettyfer plant herself at his side. Louisa’s eyes narrowed. That woman was sitting altogether too close to the duke. And she had the gall to lean in and whisper in his ear.
Louisa’s blood boiled. At that moment, Jon’s eyes flickered over to Louisa. Hoping the duke hadn’t seen her watching him, she immediately turned her gaze back to Jacob, laughing wildly at random. If Jon wanted to flirt with someone else, Louisa could too. She allowed Jacob to spend the rest of the evening at her side, although Louisa barely heard a word the man said. Her every fiber was attuned to Jon until the party broke up.
Louisa once again thanked her hosts before leaving and wished them both safe travels on their journey tomorrow. She regretted that she hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know Alexa and Henry better. Perhaps they’d meet again under superior circumstances.
The carriage ride back to Park Lane that night was uncomfortably silent. Louisa was still stewing with resentment and jealousy from watching Mariella hang all over Jon, but she didn’t want to open her mouth and be accused of immaturity again. So she resolutely kept her thoughts to herself, with the only noise coming from the clatter of the carriage along the cobblestones.
The silence continued until they’d both stepped inside Jon’s home and he’d closed and locked the front door. “Are you proud of your behavior this evening?” he asked, turning around to face her. It seemed that he had been saving this conversation for the relative privacy of indoors. How typical of him. Somehow that made her madder than if he had simply exploded with fury at her right away.
“I beg your pardon?” Louisa asked haughtily. “I’ve done nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“You made a spectacle of yourself for everyone assembled to see,” Jon said with distaste. “Are you deliberately trying to destroy your reputation by showing such a marked preference for that man? You exposed yourself to gossip when this household has already seen enough rumors and scandals to last it a lifetime.”
Louisa felt her ears burn red with fury. “How dare you!” she hissed. “When Mariella Pettyfer has been throwing herself at you every single chance she’s had—including this evening. Or are you planning to give me another lecture on the double standards you hold for men and women?” She was so angry, she nearly couldn’t speak, but Louisa wanted to make one thing very clear. “I have never wanted nor asked for Mr. Pettyfer’s attentions.” It was clear Jon didn’t know Louisa at all; otherwise, how could he think such things about her? That hurt more than anything.
“And yet you appear to receive them gladly,” he said impassively. Did the man have no emotion? How could he remain so calm? That sight made Louisa’s blood rush even hotter.
Louisa willed herself to appear as unmoved as Jonathan. No need to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her temper. No, if the duke could be cold and unfeeling, then so could she.
“You’ve said quite enough,” Louisa said, ice dripping from every word. “If you’ve finished, I’ll be off to bed. Good night, Your Grace.” And with a sarcastic curtsy, Louisa went upstairs to her bedroom. She stayed awake for a long time that night, but she didn’t hear the duke’s footsteps follow her up the stairs.
Chapter 13
Jon had already left when Louisa went down to breakfast the following morning. She had a vague memory from a few days ago of him telling her about another meeting with his banker. That must be where he was at.
All her anger from the night before had evaporated, leaving Louisa sad and heartsick. For some reason, their wires had been crossed the past several days, but now she wished Jon was here so she could just see his face.
Louisa had no plans for the day. Even Mildred was occupied, so there was nothing to take Louisa’s mind off last night’s argument. She thought about taking Peppercorn out for a ride—the poor horse hadn’t seen much action since their journey from Devonshire—but Louisa wanted to stay close to the house in case Jon returned early. She would feel restless until she saw him and they were able to make things right with each other.
Louisa decided to spend the rest of the morning baking and—she guessed—driving the cook mad as a result. But it was the only activity that didn’t sound insufferable to her at the moment. Rather than ruining one of her new gowns, Louisa went upstairs to change into an old sprigged muslin she’d brought with her from Devonshire. Several hours,
two trays of blueberry scones, and one lemon poppyseed cake later, and Louisa was feeling a little more like herself.
She had collapsed in a very unladylike position on the drawing room sofa when a knock on the door announced the arrival of a guest. Louisa just had time to straighten her posture when Mariella Pettyfer entered the room. She was alone. And she looked very pretty indeed, dressed in a rich red gown which drew out the rosiness in her cheeks and her full lips.
Louisa was keenly aware of the comparison she must present, with her messy hair, the flour smudged on her face, and the dark blueberry stains on her gown. Mariella’s shrewd gaze clearly took in every detail.
“How do you do, Miss Pettyfer?” Louisa asked, struggling to remember her manners.
The other woman’s pink lips formed into a pretty ‘O’ and her delicate eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I apologize, I seem to have caught you at a bad time,” she said, her voice sugary sweet, but a glint in her eyes showed that she was really quite glad to see Louisa in this state. “I had hoped to meet His Grace here. Last night during the party, he and I all but came to an understanding.”
It took Louisa a moment to process that. When she did, it felt as though an anchor had settled on her chest. She struggled to maintain control of her composure. Surely Mariella was putting her on, trying to get into her head.
Mariella perched herself casually on an armrest. “I know it must seem sudden,” she said airily. “But with our history, it just feels like the most natural progression in the world.”
“History?” Louisa asked dumbly.
Mariella smiled, teeth glinting. She was far less pretty when she smiled, Louisa decided. “His Grace and I were…involved…several years ago,” she said coyly. “But clearly our feelings have remained with us both over all this time.”
“So he has declared himself to you?” Louisa asked, feeling as though she might be faint.
It was a terribly intrusive question, but considering the circumstances, propriety was the least of Louisa’s worries. This morning, she had begun to think her jealousy last night had been foolishly placed, but now she wasn’t so sure.
