And her mask did not cover her mouth.
He dreamed about those lips. What they would taste like. How they would feel pressed on various parts of his body.
‘Your mouth,’ he grated and, because he couldn’t help himself, he reached out, meaning to trace the outline of those lush lips with the tips of his fingers.
And that was when he saw the smear of blood, the cut, the puffiness that spoke of a bruise already forming below the tender skin.
‘What the hell did he do to you?’ He had a pretty good idea. He’d witnessed the fool trying to force himself on Lady Jayne in the park. And it looked as if her reaction tonight must have been the same as then. It was one thing for a girl of her age and sheltered background to indulge in romantic dreams, but Kendell ought to have learnt that she wasn’t ready for unleashed passion. ‘This is why I did not want you meeting him without me around. I would never have let something like this happen to you.’
‘Y-yes, I know. It was all my own fault.’
She’d brought it on herself. And now Lord Ledbury was angry with her, too. That he was also angry with Harry was of scant comfort. She could not endure a lecture—not now. Not after Harry had turned into a stranger in the blink of an eye. A frightening stranger who had torn down the romantic fantasies she’d been weaving round herself, leaving her naked, bereft and bleeding.
‘B-but, please, d-don’t…’
‘Lady Jayne,’ he said, gently brushing something from her cheek. ‘Don’t cry.’
‘I’m not crying. I n-never cry.’ She hiccupped.
‘Then he must have really hurt you,’ he said fiercely, ‘because you most certainly are crying.’ Very gently he lifted her chin and examined her lower lip, which was swelling rapidly round a jagged tear.
‘He w-wanted me to…’ She shook her head.
His blood ran cold. Had it been worse than ardour getting out of hand?
‘But when I said I would not, he…’ Her face crumpled. ‘He was just…it was…and now it is over…’
Then she flung her arms round his waist, and hid from the questions in his eyes by burying her face in the solid warmth of his chest.
‘Just take me home,’ she sobbed. ‘Please take me home!’
* * *
It was over! He put his arms round her and rocked her while she wept. Or were they rocking together? He hardly knew. He was sure of only two things.
Kendell was out of the running.
And she was in his arms.
He felt as though he was being torn in two. Until now there hadn’t been any choice. But now his body was pulling him one way, demanding he abandon all aspirations to find a suitable wife and commit to this woman, the only woman it wanted to possess. And to hell with all his carefully laid plans. And the future he’d envisaged, with his glorious countess at his side, helping him improve his estates and leaving such a legacy that generations to come would speak in awe of the seventh Earl of Lavenham and his redoubtable wife.
It was all he could do to prevent himself from blurting out that she was better off without a no-hoper like Kendell. That he was ready to take the fool’s place like a shot…
And then he was no longer in a dilemma. He simply couldn’t imagine her looking up at him in dawning wonder and then them kissing and it all ending happily ever after. His life had never resembled any kind of fairy story. His reality was that she was only clinging to him because he happened to be there, and she’d learned enough about him in their short acquaintance to know she could trust him.
She only wanted one thing from him. She wanted him to take her home.
Well, he could do that much for her.
It would mean letting her go, that was the trouble…
No, dammit, it wouldn’t! Keeping one arm round her shoulders, he guided her into the hall, snagged a cloak from a footman who happened to be passing with guests’ discarded outerwear and, wrapping it round her to shield her from view, got her outside and into the first available hack he could hail.
She did not object to any of it. On the contrary, she clung to him throughout as though her life depended on it, weeping as though her heart was broken.
It probably was. His mouth flattened into a grim line. Thank heaven he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself by blurting out all that nonsense about taking Kendell’s place. He’d had enough of standing in for some other man since he’d come back to England. Besides, what good would it do her for him to make a declaration he had no intention of following through? He might be dazzled by Lady Jayne. He might want her so much he felt sick to think of her in another man’s arms. But that didn’t mean he had any right to burden her with the news.
Especially not when he hadn’t come to terms with it fully himself.
No, what she needed right now was somebody she could just lean on.
So when she slumped onto the seat of the hired hack, looking utterly forlorn, he took the risk of putting his arms round her again. Far from rebuking him, she burrowed into him again, clinging like a limpet while the storm of sobs continued unabated.
He held her tight. Inhaled the scent of her hair. She smelled like roses and honeysuckle. Every time he smelled a rose from this day forward he would remember this moment and savour the memory of holding her delicious curves against his body. He knew his dreams would grow even more vivid now that he had reality to mingle with his fantasies. But he was willing to pay that price. For who knew when he would ever get another opportunity like this? It was not as if he was taking advantage of her moment of weakness. She was drawing comfort from his embrace. And he was taking damn good care to make sure that source of comfort did not become distasteful to her by not letting her suspect exactly how her proximity affected him.
It was quite some time before she unwound her arms from his waist, looked up, sniffed and asked, ‘Where is Milly?’
He cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand, marvelling at her ability to think of another when she was in such distress.
‘Do not worry about Milly,’ he said gruffly. He could cheerfully wring Milly’s neck. What had she been thinking, to aid and abet Lady Jayne in meeting Kendell behind his back? But, since he wanted to soothe her fears, he explained, ‘Milly is a daughter of the regiment. She is well used to looking out for herself.’
Lady Jayne’s self-esteem shrivelled even further. She’d thought Harry’s confession that he would not have bothered with her were she not rich had been bad enough, but now Lord Ledbury was treating her as though she was as fragile as porcelain, while having complete confidence in Milly’s ability to look after herself.
In spite of being plain and poor, Milly had managed to capture the heart of the man who was holding her in his arms—much against his inclination, if the stiffness of his posture was anything to go by. She cringed to think of how proud she had been to have influenced Milly’s dress sense. As if that mattered. Lord Ledbury loved her just for being herself. Because Milly had something about her that far outweighed her own rank and wealth.
But then, had not Harry just explained that there was nothing about her that could attract a man apart from her money? She did not even know how to kiss properly!
She swiped at the tears dripping from her chin with the backs of her hands. Why had she believed his lies in the first place? She’d always known she was worthless. Her father had never let her forget that she had disappointed him by not being a boy. He’d regarded her very existence as her mother’s unforgivable crime. And then her grandf
ather had confirmed her worst fears by taking one look at her, reeling in horror, and paying legions of professionals to change her into something he would not find quite so obnoxious.
The last thing anyone had ever wanted her to be was herself.
And yet when Harry had told her all those lies about how much he adored her she’d believed him. Why had she been so stupid?
Because she’d wanted somebody to love her. Anybody. Even somebody whose regard she could not return.
And that was when she remembered that the whole point of meeting Harry tonight had been to tell him that very fact. She didn’t love him. She’d never loved him.
And then she realized that the only reason the things he’d said had hurt her so badly was because they had struck directly at wounds she already bore. She didn’t care what he thought of her. Not one bit! Not now she knew what a lying, deceitful…toad he was. Fancy taking such ruthless advantage of an insecure girl. Just to get his hands on her money.
And to think that for the last few weeks she’d been racked with guilt over the prospect of hurting his feelings.
Well, she wasn’t going to waste one more moment feeling any guilt whatsoever in regard to Harry Kendell. She was just glad she’d never fallen completely under his spell, and that now she’d broken free.
She reached into her reticule, got out a handkerchief and blew her nose with some force.
Her mother had warned her never to let any man crush her spirit. Days after her father’s funeral. She’d been too weak to rise from her bed for several months, and though she’d never been robust enough to let a boisterous child invade her rooms, she’d suddenly summoned Jayne to her side.
‘I outlived him,’ she’d whispered hoarsely. ‘It was the only victory I could gain, but I did it. Before I go, I want your promise that you will never let a man crush you, either. Remember you are a Vickery. We always rise above whatever adversities life thrusts upon us.’
Mama had certainly risen to the challenge of being married to the odious Marquis of Tunstall. She had gone down fighting him to her last breath. His only wish, for years, had been that his invalid wife would die, so that he could remarry and get the heir she had failed to give him.
She shuddered. Did relations between men and women always have to be a battle?
Lord Ledbury, feeling her convulsive movement, put his arms round her again.
And brought her back to her senses.
What must he think of her? And, oh, Lord, how many times had he made the driver go round in circles while she wept into what little there was of his shirtfront?
It had been kind of him not to take her straight home, but still… She sat up straight, making it clear she no longer needed his support.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she said. ‘I have finished crying now.’
For a moment he considered telling her that he would not care how long she cried if it meant she would stay in his arms. Except that it tore him up inside to see her so wretched.
Reluctantly, he released her and let her sit up.
Hating the physical distance she put between them as she inched along the seat, he reached for her free hand and held it between both of his own.
‘Lady Jayne, I shall not pry. But if it would help you to talk about what happened I swear I would never betray your confidence. And if there is any way I may be of further service, you have only to ask.’
She wiped her nose. She had no intention of admitting what an idiot she’d been to fall for Harry’s glib lies. But on the other hand he was being so kind…
And, in a way, she did owe him something of an explanation for dragging him away from the ball where, by the looks of that costume, he’d gone to have the kind of fun nobody ever got at the events where she usually met him.
Strange… She’d never thought of him as anything but a creature of duty. But seeing him in that outfit showed her there was more to him than met the eye.
What a pity she’d not gone to the masquerade with him. He looked as though he would have been a much more entertaining escort than Harry. And he wouldn’t have crossed the line, either….
She shook herself and lowered her eyes to where he was holding her hand between his own.
‘Harry had been trying to persuade me to elope with him for some time. Tonight, when he saw that nothing he could say or do would ever persuade me to take such a reprehensible step, he became very angry. He… Well, let us say he left me in no doubt that he never cared for anything about me but my fortune.’
‘I knew it!’ He’d known a man who was truly in love could never have enticed a lady into a series of such scandalous escapades. It was disrespectful. If Harry had really loved her, wouldn’t he have begged her to wait for him, rather than urged her to elope? If he’d gained a place in her affections, when he’d been a mere lieutenant living on his pay, he would have waited forever. Done whatever necessary to prove his worth to her family by his conduct within his regiment, if nothing else. Lady Jayne was the sort who would stand by her word, once given. She would never have married anyone else.
But to find out that the man for whom she had taken such risks had only been toying with her… He frowned down into her bleak little face. And his heart turned over in his chest. She did not deserve to have her trust shattered like this.
By God, if he ever got his hands on Kendell…
Lady Jayne flinched at the murderous expression that came over him. Though how it was possible to hurt any more, after hearing him say he’d always known no man could really be in love with her, she wasn’t sure. But there was definitely a pain in her chest. It was so sharp it hurt to draw air in past it. She had to get away from him before she broke down all over again.
‘You may set me down at Lady Penrose’s house now.’
He saw her face close up and bitterly regretted the fact that she was turning back into the lifeless little puppet he’d first encountered at Lucy Beresford’s come-out ball.
‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Your eyes will still be red. And your nose…’
‘Lady Penrose is hardly going to miss this, is she?’ She indicated her torn lip. ‘I shall have to give her an explanation. And,’ she said, drawing herself upright, ‘I am now ready to give it.’
He almost gasped with admiration. She must have an inner core of steel.
‘Do you wish me to come in with you? Would it help at all?’
She shook her head. ‘I have taken up far too much of your time as it is.’
The polite tone of her voice as she tugged her hand free of his was worse than anything that had gone before.
Do not withdraw from me, he wanted to beg her. Do not shut me out.
In the event, what he said was, ‘As you wish.’
She clearly wanted to be on her own. He could understand that. Her pride made her reluctant to reveal her weaknesses. People who had not glimpsed her real self looked at her frozen expression, the one she was wearing now, and assumed she was cold all the way through. But it was as much a mask as the little scrap of satin she’d donned to attend tonight’s masquerade. Only she put it on to conceal the depth of her hurt, not merely her identity.
Nobody, apart from himself and Lady Penrose, would ever know anything about this night’s work. And he would hazard a guess that she would tell her duenna as little as she possibly could. He would be the only person to know that tonight she’d had her heart broken.
And all he could do about it was take her home and hope that Lady
Penrose was kinder than she looked.
Chapter Seven
‘I had not expected you back quite so early,’ said Lady Penrose, looking up from the book she was reading. Her eyes narrowed upon Lady Jayne’s lower lip, and her hand flew to her own mouth. ‘I knew I should not have let you go to such an improper sort of party! They always get too boisterous. And there is always some man who gets out of hand.’
She braced herself for a scold when Lady Penrose shut her book with a snap.
‘My dear, I am so sorry. You have led such a sheltered life. Nothing can have prepared you for the vile behaviour in which some men indulge when in their cups. But how did it come about? I thought you would stick close to Miss Brigstock all evening.’
‘Oh, I…er…slipped away from her for a moment or two…’
‘That is all it takes,’ said Lady Penrose acidly. ‘Men need no encouragement at the best of times, and when they are masked, and think they can get away with taking liberties without anyone knowing quite who they are… But what of the gentleman who escorted you there? I trust he came to your rescue?’
‘No, he…he turned out to be a very great disappointment. In fact,’ she said bitterly, ‘he abandoned me not long after we got there.’ Which was as much of the truth as she felt able to confess.
‘But then however did you get home? I heard a carriage. Is Miss Brigstock with you?’
When Lady Jayne shook her head, Lady Penrose turned pale.
‘Never say you had to get yourself a cab?’
‘Oh, no. Fortunately Lord Ledbury…er…recognised me, saw that I’d had to extricate myself from a…predicament, and…um…escorted me home.’
Lady Penrose sagged with relief. But after only a minute’s reflection, she sat up straight again. ‘Lord Ledbury? He was there? And brought you home? The two of you were quite alone in a hired hack? I am not sure that this is not worse… Can we rely on his discretion, do you think?’
An Escapade and an Engagement Page 10
