He might have gone further. She would have let him, but outside in the hallway she suddenly heard sounds. Voices.
“Grace is home,” she murmured between kisses.
He laughed as he set her aside and smoothed one errant piece of her hair back into place. “Just what every man wants to hear.”
As she returned his laughter, he went to the door and swiftly unlatched it, then moved to the fireplace to lean on the mantel with all the nonchalance of a man who had been doing nothing more than speaking properly with a lady.
But as he met her eyes with his twinkling ones, the secret they shared made her heart beat faster and her body quake with strange desires. And she could only hope that Grace wouldn’t see.
Chapter Nine
“Desire is not always simply about physical attributes. A man’s laugh, his voice or his ability to actually listen can be the ultimate aphrodisiac.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures
Normally Jason was able to keep a smoothness in his disposition that could charm even the hardest woman into ignoring his flaws. And he had always gotten along with the Duchess of Jameswood.
Yet right now Grace was staring at him as if she knew every sin he’d ever committed and he was having a hard time behaving as normal. Probably because he was trying to protect Jacinda, and that was far more important than protecting his own interests. He didn’t want her to be hurt. He didn’t want to become yet another disappointment and shame in her life.
“So you and Lord Northfield were able to speak in private?” Grace asked, directing her question at Jacinda though she stared evenly at him.
Jacinda shifted on the very settee where he had recently made love to her, but to her credit, her expression and her voice revealed nothing as she said, “Yes. Thank you again for the use of your parlor, Grace. Any time I can escape my aunt’s intrusion is heavenly.”
Jason smothered a smile. Yes, heavenly was exactly the way he would describe her surrender. And his own. A surrender he couldn’t wait to repeat that night and for many nights to come.
Strange, since he normally didn’t feel such a drive to possess. But then, Jacinda was a project, and perhaps that was why she seemed able to hold his attention beyond an initial encounter.
Grace frowned at her friend, true concern lining her face. “I’m sorry it is so horrible for you there. You know I have spoken to her several times about allowing you to live here with me.”
Jason drew back in surprise, but Jacinda seemed to have no such reaction. She only shook her head.
“She’ll never let me go. I don’t know if it is the ability to lord over me she enjoys more or the stipend my father sends for my keep, but she has made it clear she won’t see me free unless I am wed.”
“All the more reason to hope your plan works out as you wish, Northfield,” Grace said, her focus pivoting to him in a moment.
Jason pushed away from the mantel. “Indeed. I think we all know what obstacles we are facing and how much this means to Jacinda.”
If Jacinda’s assertion that she hadn’t told her about potentially becoming a mistress was true, he understood her drive even more than Grace and Isabel did. Jacinda was willing to go far, almost too far, to free herself. And he would do everything in his power to prevent her from making a mistake that might alter her world forever.
“My lady, I hope I can depend upon you and Lady Lyndham to finagle some invitations to a few higher profile events in the next week or so,” he pressed.
Grace pursed her lips together in thought, but then nodded. “I’m certain I could make that happen, yes.”
“Good. Then I have much to prepare,” he said, giving Grace a small bow. “Good day, my lady.” He turned to Jacinda. “Good day.”
She blushed ever so slightly, so similar to the color she took when in the heights of pleasure, and he stiffened at the sight. That was color he intended to place upon her cheeks at least once tonight.
With a grin for both ladies, he moved from the parlor into the foyer, but he had not yet reached the door which led outside when he heard Grace’s voice behind him.
“Jason.”
The use of given names was so rare in their circles that Jacinda’s use of it was special, so he stopped in his tracks and turned to face the duchess. “Yes, Your Grace?”
She moved toward him, her eyes narrowed and dark. “Are you playing a cruel game with her?” she said softly, but her voice was filled with quivering emotion.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Of course not.”
She arched a fine brow. “You say it with such indignation, but you are not known as a man who swoops in to save the day with heroics. And yet suddenly you have taken an interest in giving Jacinda... I don’t even know what you think you will give her.”
“A future, I hope,” he replied, as honestly as he could.
She stared at him, taking him in from head to toe as she considered what he said. Finally she glanced toward the room where Jacinda awaited her and then whispered, “You seem to be honest, and she has always counted you a friend. Plus you have never had a reputation for cruelty, so for now I will take you at your word. But understand this, Northfield—”
She moved forward, a finger outstretched to press hard into his chest.
“—if you hurt her, if you do anything that will lower her even more than she is already, I will destroy you. From the bottom to the top, in every way I can think of. You may think that as a woman I have no power, but I’ll find ways to make your life a misery every day for the rest of your life or mine.”
Although she was threatening him—and he didn’t doubt a woman like Grace was well capable of fulfilling every threat—he couldn’t help but smile at the loyalty Jacinda inspired in her friends.
“I assure you, Your Grace, you will not ever have to hunt me down or waste your valuable resources on my destruction. I will not betray Jacinda or my vows to help her.”
She didn’t seem fully convinced, but she stepped away from him at last. “See that you don’t.”
Then she turned on her heel and back into the parlor to rejoin Jacinda. Jason’s horse was brought to the drive in that moment and he gave one last long look toward the room where the women met before he left the house and swung onto his mount.
But as he turned the animal toward his London home, he couldn’t help but ponder what Grace had said. And if she was so direct with him, he could only imagine what she would say to Jacinda.
Jacinda paced her chamber, uneasy and uncertain, just as she had been for the past hour. It was nearly midnight and Jason would be here soon. Should she be standing at the window or lying on the bed? Or would reading by the fire, almost as if she had forgotten him entirely, be best?
And what about what she wore? In order to keep suspicion to a minimum, she’d been forced to allow her servant to help her undress and put on her nightgown. But should she only wear that or a robe as well? Or do her best to put on in some other gown?
It was all very confusing and discomfiting. She turned to pace the room another time when she heard the same knock that had so terrified her the night before. Now it thrilled her, and she turned on her heel and rushed to open her window and allow Jason entry to her room.
He brushed a little tree bark and dust from his body, gathering the evidence to toss outside before he smiled at her.
“Was Grace too hard on you after I left?” he asked without preamble.
She stared at him. “Grace? No, she said very little. Was she hard on you?”
She had feared when Grace followed him from the room that she was prying, but Jason’s expression revealed nothing.
“No more than usual.” He turned to shut the window and drew the shades before he continued. “One small favor, Miss Downing?”
He was formal in his address, but his twinkling eyes made Jacinda both tense with anticipation and smile despite it. “Yes, my lord?”
“Open the window each night for me,” he said. “Or at least leave it unlocked. It is the ledge that is
most precarious and if I fall and kill myself beneath your window, that will certainly do nothing to improve your reputation.”
Jacinda nodded. “Leave the window open. I understand.”
He grinned but then said nothing, simply looking at her as she stood there before him. It seemed like an eternity passed, though it could have been as short as just a few seconds. Finally, Jacinda’s anxious uncertainty got the best of her and she turned away.
“I suppose we should begin,” she said, voice and hands shaking as she began to drag the strap of her nightgown over her shoulder.
“Wait, wait,” he said, rushing to place his hands over hers.
He maneuvered her to face him and helped her put the strap back in place.
“The image of you undressing for me is very erotic, and you do test a man,” he began. “But we should go slowly. Slowly, Jacinda.”
She frowned. Slowness hadn’t seemed to be on his mind that afternoon, nor the previous night. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No. No!” He shook his head. “Jacinda, you have been nothing but a perfect, delightful surprise in the short days since our strange journey began.”
“Then why stop me?” she asked, backing away from the hands he kept on her shoulders. When he touched her, it was difficult to think, and apparently she was going to be required to do so.
He let her go, watching her as she moved to the fire and stood there, hand awkwardly placed on the mantel, as if she had no care in the world. Of course he would see through that ruse and find her foolish for it, but she felt she had no choice.
“I’m not only making love to you because I desire you,” he said softly, seduction in his tone that she was far from immune from. “Although, make no mistake, I do desire you.”
Jacinda blinked, shocked that he admitted it. More shocking was that he would feel such an attraction. Wasn’t she just another willing body he could use? With the bonus attached that he could feel like a hero when it was over instead of a heel?
“I suppose your main reason for what we’re doing is that I’ve asked you to teach me,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t shake.
He moved toward her slowly, covering her hand with his, lifting it to his chest as she watched, mesmerized. When her fingers slid beneath his jacket and she felt his warmth through the shirt, her body jolted with reaction. Need. Desire she had once called shameful but now couldn’t deny if she wanted to.
Which she didn’t.
“Yes,” he said, startling her by speaking. When she touched him, she rather forgot how to do that. “I am to be your teacher, but to give you what you need for your future, whatever it may be, I must understand your past.”
It took a moment for those words to sink in, mostly because she was still looking at her hand resting on his chest. But slowly his meaning became clear and she jerked her hand away, clutching it to her as if he’d burned her.
“My past?” she asked, shaking her head before he explained himself further.
He didn’t pursue her as she pulled away, but his expression softened, as did his voice, when he said, “I want to know about the Incident, as I believe you sometimes call it.”
Terror gripped her. “No. No. I’m certain you know far more than enough. Everyone does.”
He continued to watch her but didn’t follow as she paced back to the window. Briefly she considered opening it and fleeing down the very tree he had climbed to get here, but obviously that wouldn’t work. Not in her night rail with nowhere to go. Even if she survived the climb, it wasn’t going to mean escape.
“I have heard things, yes,” he said. In the reflection from the glass, she saw him move toward her, and she stiffened. “But it is only rumor that circulates, Jacinda. Exaggeration and lies, most of which has died down considerably in the past few years that you have sequestered yourself as punishment.”
She looked at him over her shoulder, emotions welling up in her that she didn’t want. That she’d fought to forget. “Why must you know the story?”
“To properly know what to do, I need to know what you have already felt and experienced,” he whispered.
She covered her face. What he said made sense. If a tutor came to the classroom of a new student, he would have to test what that student had already learned. But there was a difference.
“It is so humiliating,” she said, words muffled by her fingers.
She felt his hands on hers and gasped in surprise, for she hadn’t heard him move on her again. He pushed them aside and cupped her chin, lifting it so that she looked into his face. His beautiful, beautiful face.
“It is only humiliating to tell someone who will judge you. I will not judge you.”
“How could you not?” she asked, voice breaking with unshed tears.
He gave her a half-smile. “You are asking me?” There was laughter in his tone, but it was gone when he continued, “I won’t judge you because I’m your friend. And because you didn’t judge me all those years ago when I came to you with drunken confessions that were likely better unsaid.”
She swallowed. Bitter words about an abusive parent were not exactly intimate details of a lover, but the fact was she knew she could trust Jason. Otherwise she would be a fool to accept his offer of a ruse in the first place.
“Please,” he said softly.
It was that one word that tore her down, broke her last defense. She sighed and motioned to the chairs before her fire. She took one and, to her surprise, he dragged the other as close to hers as he could and clasped her hand gently.
Her breath came short and she fought to control it as she began to speak. “I will simply tell you everything since I don’t know what you’ve heard or forgotten. But please don’t interrupt me. This is a difficult enough endeavor as it is.”
He nodded, silent in the face of her request. Just as she desired.
“You know how my father was—you saw it with my brother,” she began, trying not to picture her life years ago. “He was hard, he was driven, he was cold and calculating.”
Jason nodded again.
“Well, it began years before you even met my family. When my mother died, she took with her any gentleness or restraint in our home. My father wanted more than his lowly little title could provide, and he would do anything to get it.”
Jason stiffened and she covered his hand, understanding why—perhaps the way no one else did.
“He wasn’t physically abusive,” she reassured him. “But his wrath was monumental when we children were not perfect. It made my brother hard, it made my sister vain and it made me…”
She trailed off and shook her head. Jason had asked for honesty, hadn’t he?
“It made me weak.”
Jason caught his breath and opened his mouth to speak, but she covered his lips with her hand gently. “Please.”
He swallowed whatever words he wanted to say and instead kissed her fingertips. She jerked them away, drawing them to her chest where they tingled and spread desire through her despite her tale.
He smiled in encouragement and she forced herself to go on. “My coming out year was a disaster. I’m a bluestocking, not a Diamond of the First Water. And there were so many of those that year. I hardly made a ripple, didn’t attract any attention. My father was livid and it was made clear to me how much I had failed him by not capturing a man with a higher title and greater money.”
Jason shook his head and she could all but feel him vibrating, wanting to say something, wanting to rail on her father. But he didn’t, despite how much effort that silence seemed to take. She couldn’t help but smile, for he was gifting her with exactly what she had required from him.
“The second year, the pressure was even higher. By then Lisbeth was out as well and finding more success. But he wanted me to marry. And suddenly there was one man with an interest in me. You know who. Everyone knows who.”
He once again nodded, but she continued anyway.
“And this suitor wasn’t just any man, but the son of
the Duke of Garrenton. You may not remember this, but he had just been gifted with one of his father’s lesser titles, Earl of Hodgend. He was the toast of Society at that moment and he…he wanted me.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed and there was no hiding his disgust. She appreciated it, she supposed, since it was on her behalf.
“Of course I know better now, but how was I to know then what a rake he was? He was suddenly everywhere I turned, dancing with me, talking to me. My reticence and shyness he called ‘charming’, which no one else had ever said. But he pressured me, telling me how if I wanted to be his wife, I would have to prove myself. Prove my devotion. And here is where the rumor deviates from the truth.”
She got up and paced away, unable to look at even Jason when she said the next.
“The truth is that he cornered me in a private room at a party,” she whispered. “And kissed me. And kissing led to more and suddenly he was inside of me, and it hurt. And then the door opened and my father was there, bellowing about how I would have to be wed before a fortnight had passed.”
She could see it all so clearly in her mind now. Her father had seemed almost...proud when he stormed into the room. He had believed she would have her future duke and all his prestige for her family. And she had believed it too, despite the fact that she had been humiliated.
Then everything had shattered.
“But the earl hardly missed a breath. He announced to my father and the world at large that I had seduced him and how shocked and sorry he was to discover I wasn’t a virgin when he entered me. And of course everyone believed him. Here I was, just on the lower cusp of Society, never popular, never all that interesting to anyone. And he was the son of a duke, an earl in his own right, popular and rich.”
“There should still be consequences to such an ungentlemanly act,” Jason said, his voice rough.
She turned on him with a small smile, despite her pain. Of course he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from talking. And in truth, she was happy for his voice, which brought her back to this time, this moment. She was safe, she was protected, she was with someone who she trusted not to betray her.
A Moment of Passion (The Ladies Book of Pleasures) Page 9
