by Maya Banks
When she reached her house, she briefly entertained the idea of entering through the servants’ entrance, but decided to go through the front. If her brothers were awake, she didn’t want to appear as if she were sneaking about. They would lecture her for going out alone, but they would hardly suspect the reason behind her outing.
She laid her parasol inside the door and headed to the kitchens. After requesting a tray to be brought up to her room, she retreated to her bedchamber.
Once upstairs, she slipped inside her room and began loosening the buttons on her dress. Not wanting to summon her maid, she performed the arduous task alone and soon found herself clad only in her chemise and corset.
Padding over to her window, she opened it to let in the light spring breeze. As it washed over her, her nipples puckered beneath the thin undergarments and hardened to pebbles. A delicious thrill tantalized her as she remembered the same response when Grayson had kissed her, touched her, and teased her.
She rubbed the chill bumps from her arms and moved back to her bed, sliding between the covers and closing her eyes. The rugged, handsome face of Grayson Douglas floated temptingly through her thoughts, and she felt her body quicken in response.
Somehow she’d always known she was a person of great passion. She’d longed to unleash the power she felt beneath her prim and proper surface, and now that she had, she wasn’t entirely sure she could restrain herself.
She would spend these few weeks with Gray and then resign herself to a passionless life with Stuart. No matter her feelings for her fiancé, or the fact that he wasn’t remotely attracted to her, she would never take a lover once she was married. She couldn’t do that to her children. Couldn’t be the woman everyone whispered about. She wasn’t completely without honor.
She’d marry Stuart and be the perfect wife and mother. But she’d always remember the few weeks she spent loving with reckless abandon.
###
Gray sat down behind his desk and leaned back in the chair, expelling a long breath. Lady Jenna Wycliffe. Beautiful. Impetuous. Trouble.
When she had breezed into his library, he never dreamt she would make such an outrageous suggestion. Oh he’d seen her staring at him at the Montvales’ ball, but then she was no different from all the other society women peering at him microscopically.
His first impulse had been to send her on her way, but she intrigued him in a way no other woman had. Perhaps it was her direct approach. She didn’t whisper behind her fan, or pretend not to be looking at him when in fact she was. No, she came right out and boldly said what every other woman in London was thinking.
There was plenty of time to cancel their rendezvous before tonight. If she wasn’t thinking rationally perhaps it was up to him to halt her reckless behavior.
A scowl crossed his face, wrinkling his eyes. He was tired of fending off unwanted advances from scores of women. They all viewed him like a piece of meat at the market. If a spoiled society darling wanted to experiment with the lower class, who was he to dissuade her?
It wasn’t as if he sought her out. On the contrary, she had come to him. But he would not be used in such a fashion. If he was going to proceed with this affair, it would be on his own terms.
A slow smile replaced the frown. Lady Jenna Wycliffe was by far the most fascinating specimen of a woman he’d come across in many years. She may not know it yet, but their nightly visits would be interesting indeed. That is if she even came. She had scurried from the library like a scared rabbit after he had kissed her. Chances were she had gotten far more than she had bargained for.
He chuckled softly, remembering the way she melted against him, her soft curves molding to his body. Even now, his body simmered in reaction. Yes, she hadn’t expected that. And if she carried through with their agreement, he would be very surprised indeed.
But if she did, she would have her passion. He would see to it she never forgot the nights they spent together. But he, too, would benefit from this arrangement. While she seemed to think he had much to offer her, she, too, had much to give him. Perhaps a chance to exorcise the demons of his past.
But first he wanted to find out as much about the enchanting Lady Jenna Wycliffe as he could. And this fiancé of hers.
###
“Jenna. Jenna! Are you awake?”
Jenna groaned and dug her head under the pillow. “Go away, Quinn.”
The door opened and she heard muffled footsteps approach her bed. “Come on, sleepy head. Stu is here to see you.”
She sat up yanking the pillow off her head. “Already?” She blinked and rubbed her eyes. The few hours of sleep since her return from Mr. Douglas’s home still left her feeling groggy and disoriented.
Quinn nodded regretfully. “Afraid so. Sebastian is entertaining him in the drawing room until you go rescue him.”
“Why should I go rescue him?” she grumbled. “He likes Stuart so much, let him marry him.”
Sympathy softened her brother’s face, and brown eyes, so much like her own, darkened in sadness. “I wish there was another way.”
She instantly felt remorse. Of her two brothers, she was closest to Quinn, and she had no desire to make him feel badly for her. “But there isn’t another way,” she said lightly, as she threw back the bed covers. “Stuart may not be the man I would have chosen to marry, but Mamma and Papa are counting on me, and I won’t let them down.”
“It doesn’t seem fair though,” he said softly. “Sebastian isn’t being pressured to marry, and he is the heir.”
“Hand me my wrap,” she directed, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. He retrieved it from a nearby chair and handed it over. Rapidly pulling it on, she rose and walked to the vanity. As she brushed the long locks of her hair, she gazed at her brother in the mirror. “Sebastian isn’t being pressured to marry because Papa isn’t feeling his mortality yet. Just you wait. Let him have one bout of illness, and he will be after Sebastian to marry and produce an heir.”
She turned around in her chair, shaking her brush at Quinn. “You, on the other hand, brother dear, are in an enviable position. No one cares if you marry straight away, and you will most assuredly be free to choose your own wife.”
He grinned back at her. “I guess being a middle child does have its advantages.”
“What is Stuart wearing today?” she asked with an exasperated sigh.
Quinn chuckled. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, but I do,” she persisted. “I’ve no wish to clash with him as I did the last time he paid call.” She winced as she recalled the garish ensemble Stuart had arrived in, and how truly awful it looked against her green print muslin.
“Hmmm, let’s see. Pink waistcoat with a lovely jewel-encrusted lapel, gold breeches, and the daintiest pair of tasseled boots I think I’ve ever laid eyes on. If ever a man needed Beau Brummell’s guidance, it is he.”
“No! Surely you jest. Pink?”
“I only wish I was jesting.”
“Dear heavens, Quinn. Whatever shall I wear against that? Stop laughing and help me!”
Oh, he was useless. She threw a pillow at her dear sibling who was literally howling in laughter. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, tried to don a more serious expression, and fell off his chair laughing again.
She rolled her eyes and strode over to her wardrobe, yanking open the doors and rifling through her selection of dresses. A mischievous giggle overtook her as she pulled a gown out and turned to Quinn. She held it up against her chest. “How about this one?”
He took one look at the deep pink gown with purple ribbons and clutched his side in laughter once again. “Wherever did you get such a horrid gown?” he gasped.
“It was a gift from my intended,” she said dryly.
“Stop! You are killing me over here,” he said weakly.
“All right. It seems my best defense is white. After all, white compliments everything, right?”
“I can’t imagi
ne anything complimenting Stu’s get up,” he said, chuckling still.
“Go on now,” she said, shooing him from her room. “I must get dressed and go face the popinjay.”
“I’ll see you downstairs.” He gave a smart salute.
She shook her head as he closed the door behind him. At least she could jest about Stuart with him. Sebastian would be horrified if he knew how she really felt. And he would never know if she could help it.
Ringing for her maid, she settled into her chair to begin her toilette.
Barely half an hour later, she scurried down the stairs to the drawing room. As she entered, the three men rose and turned their attention to her.
“Jenna! You look positively stunning, my dear,” Stuart gushed as he rushed over to her.
She glanced hastily over at Quinn and shushed him with her eyes. Good heavens, though. He hadn’t exaggerated Stuart’s outlandish garb. “Good afternoon, Stuart. It’s lovely to see you as always.”
She tried not to cringe as he planted a wet kiss on her cheek and then took up her hand and pelted kisses on the back of her glove. Vivid in her memory was the feel of those clammy lips on hers.
“You slept later than usual this morning,” Sebastian said with a frown. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“Upon my word, Jenna. If you aren’t feeling well, we can forego a ride in my phaeton. I insist you go right back up to bed,” Stuart said, waving his arms theatrically in the air.
She stole a glance at Quinn, and he nodded encouragingly. “Well, I hadn’t wanted to complain, but I am feeling a bit under the weather.” Pressing her fingers to her head, she continued on. “I think a cup of tea and an afternoon in bed is just what I need.”
“Go on up,” Quinn said, moving forward. “I’ll ring for tea to be brought up to you.”
As he walked past her, she mouthed a thank you. He winked and disappeared from the room.
Turning back to Stuart and Sebastian, she smiled brightly. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am going to retire.”
“Of course, of course,” Stuart said. “I’ll come around tomorrow to check in on you.”
“I’ll see you out, Stu,” Sebastian said with a quick frown in Jenna’s direction.
As soon as the two had left, she turned and fled up the stairs to her room. She closed the door and leaned heavily against it. Let them think she was ill. It wouldn’t be too far from the truth.
She shrugged out of her gown and wrapped her dressing robe around her. Moments later a knock sounded at the door and Quinn let himself in carrying a tray of tea.
“Personal service, brother dear?”
“Nothing’s too good for my poor sick sister,” he teased. “But you know, you need to try to show a little more enthusiasm when old Stu comes to call.”
She sighed and flopped into her armchair. “I can’t help it. I think I would be more excited about attending my own funeral.”
He laughed. “Now, now. He isn’t that bad.”
“No, he’s not. He’s really a dear, but it doesn’t mean I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“I’m sorry, Jenna,” Quinn said in a low voice. “I know it’s all horribly unfair.”
She looked down and forced her concentration on the cup of tea she was pouring. As she sat down on her bed, cup in hand, she peered over the rim at Quinn. “I want to ask you something,” she said softly.
“Anything.”
“Are there women you just aren’t attracted to for whatever reason?”
His head reared back in surprise. “When I said anything, I certainly didn’t expect this. What makes you ask such a question?”
“Does it matter?” she asked lightly. “If a woman wanted you to kiss her, would you say no? And if she kissed you anyway, would you like it?”
He stood and stared hard down at her, his hands fisted at his waist. “Who the deuce have you been asking to kiss you?”
She sighed and put aside her cup. “Can you not just answer the question?”
“Does this have anything to do with your jaunt to the terrace with Stuart?” he asked as he eased down beside her on the bed.
Her head jerked around in surprise. “How did you know?”
“The look of panic in Stuart’s eyes may have had something to do with it,” he said dryly. “He came back into the ballroom looking like a man who had just been handed his death sentence.”
Unable to control her reaction, she burst into tears. His words only solidified what she already knew, but it pained her so coming from someone else.
Quinn placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “There, there. Don’t cry, Jenna. You know it makes me deuced uncomfortable when you cry.”
The note of pleading in his voice very nearly made her smile.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Only if you promise not to tell Sebastian,” she said with a sniffle.
He nodded so she recounted the events of that night, Stuart’s reaction to her request and the disappointment she felt. When she was through, he sat back with a grim look on his face.
“I don’t know what to say, Jenna. At least not what will make you feel better.”
“Is there nothing else out there?” she asked in a small voice. “Is this as good as it will ever be?”
If she could gain some reassurance from Quinn—some small boon of hope—she could forget about her crazy agreement with Grayson Douglas and resign herself to her future with Stuart. But the look of sympathy ringing her brother’s eyes merely drove home the hopelessness of the entire situation. If she didn’t follow through she may well never have such an opportunity again.
Her mind fully made up, she reined in her melancholy, and quickly steered their topic of conversation in another direction. It would be risky—she could very well be found out. But if she didn’t seize the chance, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life.
###
“I won’t attend with him,” Jenna said stubbornly.
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, a sure sign of his agitation. “Jenna, you are betrothed to him. It only makes sense that he would escort you to social events.”
She set her lips in a firm line. “Mamma and Papa agreed to let me spend the season in London before I married. That does not mean that I must have Stuart hanging after me at every function. Besides, I thought you and Quinn were escorting me.”
“She’s right, you know,” Quinn spoke up. “This was supposed to be her time to enjoy London before she married in the fall.”
Sebastian rounded on his younger brother. “I can handle this without your assistance.”
Quinn put his hands up. “As you were.”
Sebastian turned back to Jenna. “You are being unreasonable.”
She glared at him. “Unreasonable? I am not being anything of the sort. I did not ask Stuart to come to London. He has no right to infringe on my time here. All I asked for was one season in London since I never had a coming out. Papa agreed and he never said anything about having to suffer Stuart’s attentions while I was here.”
“That is no way to speak of a family friend,” Sebastian reproached. “Papa had no way of knowing Stuart would also be in London. If he had, he would have approved of his escort. He is the man you are going to marry, remember?
Jenna sighed and slumped down on the couch. As soon as she’d come down from her time in her room, Sebastian had mentioned Stuart’s desire to escort her to Lady Lockhart’s ball that evening. She could hardly tell him she had no wish to ever spend time with Stuart, but she’d hoped he would understand her need for a modicum of freedom before she returned to the country and married.
“Can’t you understand that I want some time to myself? Time without Stuart, time without wedding arrangements and guest lists. Time to enjoy an extended stay in London for the first time. Why does everything have to involve Stuart? It is no insult to him that I want some time away from him and everything hav
ing to do with my marriage.” She bolted from the drawing room, unable to speak rationally any longer.
“Devil take it,” Sebastian swore. He dropped onto the couch where Jenna had sat and wearily rubbed his eyes. “This being the head of the family in Papa’s absence is deuced uncomfortable.”
Quinn poured a drink and handed it to his older brother.
“Thanks.” He slowly sipped then fixed Quinn with a pointed stare. “She’s unhappy, isn’t she?”
“Observant of you,” Quinn said dryly.
“Well, damn it, she doesn’t confide in me like she does you. How was I supposed to know she was so miserable?”
“Give her time,” Quinn said quietly. “She’ll come around. But stop shoving Stuart at her. Let her have her fun, attend a few balls. Do what young ladies like to do. Then she’ll feel better when the time comes to tie the knot with Stu.”
He hoped anyway. Their parents hadn’t done Jenna any favors by spending all their time at the family’s country estate. But Papa detested London, and they rarely made the trip to town. Jenna didn’t know how to play by society’s rules...yet.
He wasn’t convinced she would ever accept her marriage to Stuart, but he was careful to keep that observation to himself. Something about her quiet acceptance bothered him. It wasn’t typical of her at all. But then, he was the only one in the family to see her more impulsive nature.
“You haven’t told her of Papa’s agreement with Viscount Dudley?” Sebastian asked sharply.
“Of course not,” Quinn said in irritation. “I’ve not mentioned anything having to do with the viscount or Papa’s dealings with him.”
Sebastian nodded. “I just don’t want her hurt by this whole mess. Better she think the marriage was always arranged.”
“I don’t agree, but I am respecting Papa’s wishes in the matter.”
“That’s all either of us can do.”
Quinn leveled a stare at Sebastian. “You owe it to her to call Stuart off. Let her enjoy the season.”
Sebastian nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You go tell Jenna she is free to attend the ball without worry over Stuart.”
