Regency Romance: The Viscount's Blazing Love (Fire and Smoke: CLEAN Historical Romance)
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“John,” she murmured as she looked up at him, dazed. “Have you always wanted to do this with me? Kiss me?”
He laughed, but it wasn’t his real laugh, not the one she loved to hear. He seemed to be laughing at himself. “This is a little more than a kiss.” Once again, he leaned his forehead against hers. She took a deep breath, inhaling his intoxicating scent. “I want to do more than kiss you. I want to marry you. But I have always known that I cannot.” He tried to let her go, but she only pulled him closer, frustrating him as he tried to do the right thing, even as she offered what he truly wanted. “I have been in love with you for so long. I have dreamt of you being my wife.”
Still in a daze, she kissed the corner of his mouth, drawing it out. She had always been a fast learner whenever Cat gave her lessons. She supposed that translated to the kissing lesson John had just inadvertently given her. “I would marry you.” She did not realize what she had said, nor the truth of it, until she realized he had stopped breathing. She dropped her arms from his neck, flushing. “Oh, John.” Her eyes filled with tears. “We—”
“Cannot,” he finished for her, looking sadder than she had ever seen him, sadder than even after an awful beating from his father. “We cannot. And I have known this. My father is a drunk, and you are going to live at Pritchford Place. I should not have spoken of it, but I am going away and you will be given every opportunity in the world. I could not write to you. I could not keep some part of you to myself when you have a life to live.”
“But you kissed me,” she murmured. She tried to fix her hair, but she knew she would not be able to, not after being pressed against that tree.
“I should not have. And I should not have spoken of my desire to marry you, not when I know it is impossible.” He loosened his grip on her and took a step back. His eyes were a stormy, ashamed gray. “You cannot marry a man like me.”
She closed her eyes. Jane wanted to argue with him. She wanted to tell him that after kissing him she could not imagine marrying anyone but him. But then she thought of her sister and of Ben and everything they had done and would do for her. There was no way they could approve of the match. “I cannot marry you,” she agreed, wanting to weep. “You are right.”
“You should go. You must be expected at the funeral,” John told her, kicking at the dirt with the shoes he had spent an hour polishing. They still would not be fine enough to ever set foot in Pritchford Place.
She nodded, feeling like she was under a spell. “So this is goodbye then?”
He agreed and she began to walk toward the church, feeling both joyful and sorrowful at the same time. How could this be both the best day and the worst day of her life? Just as she neared the road, she heard him running up behind her.
He took her hand, his front against her back as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I would never ask you to wait for me. I could never do that, and I would never want that. But I swear to you, Jane Watson, I will make something of myself. I will be good enough for you and if you are still free to marry, I will propose. I shall spend my life trying to be worthy of you.”
Before she could turn and argue with him, he had run off. The last time she saw him was from the corner of her eye, at her father’s funeral, at the back of the church. So much for goodbyes.
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DO YOU NOT REMEMBER WHY
SHE WAS ACTING THAT WAY? …
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CHAPTER ONE
The Last Ball of the Season
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1823
London
Jane did not believe in pouting. She supposed it had something to with the fact that she had grown up in a household with an older sister, Cat, who endured physical pain and the emotional torment of others without ever complaining. Though Cat was no longer emotionally tortured over the scars from the fire so many years ago, now that she was in love with Ben and they had two children, she still was not one to complain.
The other woman Jane looked up to as an example of what she wanted to be was Julia, Ben’s twin sister. She had married the man she had loved since she was a child over a year ago and given birth to twins. But there had been a time when Shep and Julia were apart. She never let her emotions show, though she had loved Shep with all her heart. She had not even complained when her mother had tried to force her to marry the most despicable man. If Julia and Cat could keep from complaining under such circumstances, then Jane could keep from complaining before the last ball of the season.
Her first season had been nearly unbearable. She had only just gotten used to living with Ben and Cat before she was thrust into meeting the king and balls upon balls. John had not been wrong. Men had flocked to her. She was a new beauty and her dowry was so extensive that every man had asked her for a dance. Jane had smiled and remained calm as her dance card filled, though she would have much rather been climbing trees with John. Still, last year at least, there had been some novelty. This year, the same men asked for the same dances. She was sure some of them had good intentions, but she felt as if she wore a sign around her neck that held her dowry price.
She could not express her gratitude for all that Ben and Cat had done for her, though she did express it as best as she could. She thanked them for the gowns and the introduction to society and the dowry so often that at breakfast one day, Ben finally told her she must stop.
“Jane,” he’d told her with a sigh. “You know your sister would give you the world if she could. And so would I. We do none of this because we have to, but because we want to.” He’d then made her laugh with his next words. “Have you ever known me to do something I did not want to do?”
There were dresses upon dresses, all of them worn once by this point of the season, all in light colors. Her favorite was an iridescent white that she would wear tonight. She had so many silk slippers that it took her days to realize her nephew, George, had stolen one and brought it into the nursery. She would not have known it was gone at all if not for Nanny informing her of it. She felt like Cinderella as she tried it on, making sure it was hers and not Cat’s. But after tonight, they would spend the rest of the week packing up and then making their way back to Pritchford Place in Yorkshire. At some point in the summer, Julia and Shep and their two darling babies would join them, as they had forgone the London season because of the twins’ age.
Jane had made some friends since she came of age. But her closest friends were still Julia and Cat. It was just that most of these girls had been a part of this world their whole lives, when it was very much new to Jane. Thanks to Cat’s mothering and Jane’s ability to adapt, Jane had been able to fit in so seamlessly. People always commented on her pristine manners as if they expected her to be some kind of barbarian because she did not have the title of lady before her name. The thought had her rolling her eyes in the mirror while her lady’s maid, Trent, clucked her tongue.
“Now, now, Miss Watson, what if your face freezes like that?” Trent asked with a chuckle.
“I think even if my face were frozen like that, and Lady Ceciline would still push her son on me,” Jane sighed.
Yes, she had made friends, but she still missed John, who she had grown up loving, chasing, and teaching about figures until he surpassed her, racing and then pounding her fist into his chest in a most unladylike fashion when he clearly let her win. Other memories flashes in front of her mind’s eye, though she wished they did not: Jane pressing a compress to a black eye John’s father had given him, finding John sleeping in the barn with his brothers so they would be protected during his father’s rampages. To her, John’s disposition was truly miraculous. She loved Ben and Shep both like brothers, and they were good men who she both respected and loved. But she had seen John’s large hands pick a baby bird up off the ground and gently place it back in the nest to save it from the rest of the scary world. She had
felt his hand on her face, his lips on hers…
She had moved on; she had made new friends. She had a new nephew to love on and Julia’s twins to see for the second time in a few weeks. But John’s lips were still the only ones she had kissed.
She sighed. It was no good to think of him. As far as she knew, he was gone. He had not tried to contact her, though a part of her still hoped for that. She did not know why her mind was so firmly fixed on him tonight. She thought she had trained it better than that.
“Are you almost ready?” Cat asked from the doorway. She held the baby in her arms, and George held her hand dutifully. It was near their bedtime. “Are you sure it is all right that Ben accompanies you without me for tonight?” Jane turned to nod and as soon as she did, Cat sighed. “Oh, you look beautiful, darling.”
“Pretty,” George told her as he walked toward her.
“Come and give Aunt Jane a kiss then, Georgie,” Jane told her nephew, who ran to her and pressed his lips sweetly to hers. She loved Cat and was so beyond happy that she had fallen in love and had a family. But since that day when John kissed her against the tree two years ago, Jane had wondered if that would ever happen for her. Would she marry for love? Was that possible? Oh, she hoped it could be so. “Do you promise to be a very good boy and help Mama and Nanny with Baby Charlie?”
He nodded solemnly and kissed her again with a smile. “Dance?” he asked.
She tickled his belly. “Yes, tonight I shall dance and then I shall come back home and go to sleep and wake up and see you.” And nothing will have changed. I will not meet my prince, just the same group that is always there. But I will pretend I am having the time of my life because that is what is expected of me and maybe someday I will feel even a bit of what I felt that day two years ago by the tree.
“Why do you look sad?” Cat asked. “Is something wrong? Are you well?”
“It is nothing. Please tell Ben I will be ready in just a few minutes. Trent just has to fix a few curls George’s embrace misplaced.” She looked her sister in the eye to prove that everything was all right but Cat still looked skeptical. “And then we will be off to the ball.”
Cat nodded and took George’s hand back in her own. “All right. I believe you. I shall go and tell Ben.”
Jane smiled, trying to look as happy as possible.
Cat exited and walked her two sons toward the bedroom she shared with her husband. Though she technically had her own room, they had always shared a bedroom. Ben’s valet was just fixing the last of his cufflinks when Cat walked in with both children and he bowed to her.
“There are my boys,” Ben chortled as he walked toward them. He picked George up and pressed his lips to Cat’s. “And there’s my wife,” he murmured against her lips. When she would have pulled away, to keep the kiss casual, he only pulled her nearer, his hand touching her scarred neck, but paying it no mind at all. “You must not rush me, you know,” he told her, flashing his dimples.
She pressed her finger to her lips. “Later,” she promised. “When George and Charlie are asleep and you have fulfilled your duties as Jane’s chaperone.”
He groaned, which George mimicked, making them both laugh. “I am here to tell you she should be ready in a few minutes.”
“All right.” He bounced their eldest in his arms. “You shall be good for Mama, George?”
The boy nodded with enthusiasm.
Cat closed the door behind her, easily juggling Charlie in her arms, a well-practiced mother. “There’s something else.”
“Yes, my love?” Ben asked. As far as Ben was concerned, life could not be better. The only thing that continued to nag at him was the mystery of who had set the fire that had nearly killed his wife, but that mystery would wait until they returned from London.
“She is unhappy,” Cat told him, her blue eyes full of worry. “I know we decided not to mention anything having to do with what Shep wrote to us about John Christopherson but…”
“Perhaps she is sad that it is the end of the season,” Ben suggested a bit lamely.
Cat shook her head. “You know her better than that. She has not been the same since he left.”
For Ben, Jane would always be a younger sister. The fact that men could ask her to dance and ask to court her was one he tried to pretend did not exist. “That could be because your father.”
Cat pressed her lips together. “Oh, Ben. I wish I could say that is what I thought it was. But I do not think so any longer. I will be so glad when we are back at Pritchford Place and Julia and Shep come.”
He kissed her again, lightly this time. “So you and Julia can try to get information out of her together?”
Cat smiled. “Well, yes.”
“Do not worry, Cat,” Ben soothed, as he pushed back her blond hair. “I think it is part of being a young woman in the season. Goodness knows that Julia was incredibly moody during this time. Actually, she was acting very similarly to Jane now.”
“Exactly,” Cat hissed, though she was not angry at her husband. “And do you not remember why she was acting that way? She was in love with someone she could not have.”
“Oh,” Ben gulped. “That.”
“Yes.” Cat had to smile at his ignorance. “That. We should think about telling her.”
“Yes, perhaps we should,” Ben agreed. “Tomorrow. We can tell her when the pressure from the season is gone. We can let her know about John’s new situation in life.”
Later, he would wonder if he had jinxed them.
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I WANTED TO DANCE WITH YOU. I WANTED
TO HOLD YOUR HANDS IN MINE.…
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CHAPTER TWO
The Surprise Dance Partner
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“C hin up,” Ben told Jane as they entered the elaborate ballroom. “It is the last ball of the season and then we can go back to Pritchford Place.”
“Chin up,” Jane repeated, looking at her brother-in-law gratefully. From the corner of her eye, she spied a woman wearing a turban and a fuchsia gown. “Oh, no. It’s Lady Ceciline. She will ask me to dance on her son’s behalf, and he has no interest in me. Please. Let’s hurry away before she can catch us.”
Ben smoothly turned them toward another crowd they could lose themselves in. “I do not envy you, Jane,” he admitted, looking over his shoulder at Lady Ceciline. “That woman is a barracuda.”
“I am sure if you took my dowry away, she would leave me alone,” Jane told him with a wink. She had to speak quietly in case anyone tried to overhear. That was one thing that had taken some getting used to: how eager everyone was for gossip and how far they would go to get it. But in London, during the season, that seemed to be the way of the world, gossip and balls and scandals abounding.
“I am afraid I cannot help you then, sister,” Ben told her, showing his dimples. Jane noticed several women in the room looking Ben over since he hardly ever attended without Cat, but Jane also knew that those women were practically invisible to Ben. When he had once considered himself the most charming when it came to women, since marrying Cat he seemed not to notice the opposite sex.
The ballroom was beautiful, despite some of the older women’s garish gowns. Jane had learned she preferred clean lines and light blues and pinks. But tonight, she wore white, with matching silk slippers. She might not have realized it, but she lit up the room.
A man stepped in front of Ben and Jane. He bowed slightly. “Good evening, Lord Wembley. Miss Watson, I wondered if you have a place on your dance card for me.”
“Thank you, Lord Edward. I would enjoy partnering with you for the first dance.” She curtseyed slightly before they moved on. He would find her when the music began. “Oh, look! Ben, it’s the Pearson sisters.”
Ironically, the women her sister had once seen as rivals for Ben had become Jane’s friends. They had welco
med her honestly and truly with none of the jealousy that some of the other girls had shown her. Part of that was because they had been long friends of Ben and Julia’s family and so now they considered themselves friends with Jane as well. They also could relate to Jane about her enormous dowry. Their father did not have a great title, but the dowries more than made up for it. Jane had spent plenty of time laughing with them about Lady Ceciline, who had made the three sisters and Jane the prime targets for her son.
How was this her life? She sometimes thought that everything had changed when Papa died. But that was not true. Everything had changed when Cat and Ben fell in love. If she truly thought it through, she could even say that the fire all those years ago had changed everything, since that was when Cat and Ben met. She looked at Ben out of the corner of her eye as he greeted the Pearson sisters. She knew he was trying to find out who had set the fire originally. He could not let go of the thought that someone had done it on purpose. Two years ago, John had given him some information to try and figure out the mystery. Cat did not like to talk about it. For her, it was easier to close the chapter than to imagine who had done it. But Jane was protective of her sister, so she could understand Ben’s motivations. She was so glad Cat had found a good man.
Later, after four or five dances, Ben accompanied her to get some water. She was already exhausted and her feet hurt. She would much rather lose her breath chasing her nephews than do this. She forced a smile on her face., Honestly, she had no idea why she was in such a poor mood tonight.
“Lord Wembley. Miss Watson.”
Ben turned to greet the man who’d spoken, but Jane did not move a muscle. A chill went up her spine, and she shivered. Her hand shook as she set down her glass of water before she turned slowly. She did so gracefully but she felt ancient. Two years suddenly felt like two hundred. She knew that voice. She knew it so well. It was the same man who had once told her what shapes he saw in the clouds, the same man who claimed his new bruise came from running into a door and not his father’s fist, the same man who’d told her he would spend his life trying to become worthy of her.