Jessica couldn’t read much further than that, for she knew what would be contained in the lengthy letter she held in her hands. She handed the letter to Hayden; he could read it if he wished, but she didn’t think he’d care for the gossip contained within, either. It appeared Lady Montant was sleeping with the enemy, or with many of them—anyone who could give her information. Did that mean Jessica’s husband had done the same? She covered her mouth with a shaky hand. She thought she might be sick.
“What are we supposed to do with this information?” she asked not of Hayden but of herself. She wanted to burn the letters, but in all likelihood the pages contained everything that Lady Montant knew of her.
She could only imagine the worst of what was detailed in the letters. The people this woman had been responsible for ruining. Lady Montant had to be exposed for who she was, but how?
“Your friend the duchess knows who the Chronicler is.” Jessica pushed away from the desk, needing to be away from the deceit, the wrongness, of what was contained in the pages set before her. “She said as much earlier this evening.”
Hayden tossed the parchment onto the desk without a second thought. He didn’t seem any more impressed than she by the contents.
“Is there anything else I should know about the dinner party?”
She waved his concern away with a shake of her head. “You know everything. I think I need to pay a visit to Lady Montant tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that wise, Jess. What can you possibly say to her that won’t backfire? She’ll resort to lies if you push her too far. She’s always been a difficult woman. It’s no wonder her husband never comes to London; he wants to avoid her at all costs, for she’s nothing but poisonous.”
“It’s possible I can use these”—Jessica waved her hand in the direction of the evidence—“against her.”
“That’s a dangerous game to be playing. You could set yourself up for a bigger fall.”
“She can’t continue to do this, Hayden. I can’t allow it now that I know what she’s done, and what my husband did to so many people that were undeserving of their trust.”
“I’ll only agree to you confronting her if you let me go with you.”
She gave Hayden a hard, thoughtful look. “I doubt she’ll be reasonable if I show up with the Duke of Alsborough on my arm. No, this is something I have to do myself.”
He pulled her into his arms, giving her the kind of comfort she was growing to crave. “What about Lady Randall? She has enough clout to protect you should things not turn out the way you hope.”
Jessica was exhausted by the turn of events tonight. “It’s been a long night. We can discuss this in the morning.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’d feel safer and sleep better if you took a guest room.”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly that a rush of air left her lungs. “You don’t even have to ask. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”
She pressed her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes as tiredness swept her over the edge. “Thank you.” She turned them toward the stairs. “The guest room is always made up, so we won’t have to wake anyone.”
“I can stay with you in your room.”
She thought about it, but Hayden would only provide a distraction to her thoughts. She needed to plan the coming days carefully, so she gave him her full honesty. “Not tonight. I have so much information rolling around in my head that I need to sort through it on my own. I won’t be able to do that if you’re there with me.”
“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not.”
She looked up at him. “It’s a great compliment to your ability to distract me.” She motioned toward the room he was to occupy, the very same room he’d dressed for the masked ball in.
Hayden kissed her forehead as he left her at her bedchamber door. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
Chapter 19
I cannot believe that Lord B—— has stooped as low as he has to find a bride. It is one thing to find solace in the arms of another to keep you warm on a cold winter night, and quite another to publicly ruin her and then make a mockery of your name while you pursue the object of your desire without remorse for your actions. What storm has taken the ton’s most eligible bachelors and made them into lovesick fools this season?
Mayfair Chronicles, August 1846
How much longer would Jessica attempt to lead him on a merry chase for her hand in marriage? Hayden hitched up his trousers at the knees before taking a seat in Jessica’s private sitting room in her boudoir.
While the events with Miller had happened three days past, Hayden had not been far from Jessica’s company. They hadn’t discussed how she would confront Lady Montant, but his patience was wearing thin for her hand in marriage.
Jessica’s maid was putting in some final touches with her hair, pinning the curls at the perfect angle.
Hayden looked around at the cozy setting of furniture in her boudoir. “Did you ever wonder what your husband thought of you entertaining in here?”
“You’re forgetting that he was ancient, and used to an older set of rules than what we grew up with.” She was looking at Hayden’s image in the mirror. “His mother would have entertained her guests in here, men and women.”
Hayden shrugged as he leaned back into the cushioned seating, pulled his reading glasses from his pocket, and opened up the paper. The housekeeper had brought up a tea service for him while he read the morning’s news.
Yes, definitely the usual routine before Jessica’s husband had died. Was she up to something? Was she avoiding everything that had happened of late? He’d always been a patient man and pushing Jessica was like pushing a cart without a horse. Besides, he took a certain amount of enjoyment that oftentimes it frustrated her when he waited for her to come around. It was like a battle of the wits.
He turned the page in the paper, perhaps with a little more gusto than usual.
Jessica inviting him up here upon his arrival meant she was far from ready to do anything; she was not a morning person and their morning stroll was often after eleven—or what Jessica referred to as a decent hour. It amazed and irritated him that they could so easily fall into their old routine when all he wanted was answers to the questions about Lady Montant and, more important, his and Jessica’s future.
“It still surprises me he didn’t have us tossed out,” Hayden said.
“He wouldn’t dare toss a duke out of his house.” She spritzed some perfume at the vee of her neck. Whatever was in her perfume, there was an underscore so subtle, yet so desirable, it reminded him of lilacs blooming in May. He turned another page in the paper, not really reading anything, as his thoughts were focused on Jessica.
“I was young when I took my father’s place, hardly the man I’ve grown into. I’m sure Fallon thought little of me.”
Hayden’s mother, bless her sweet soul, had made sure he turned into a man worthy of a dukedom. While his father had played a pivotal role in raising him, it was his mother who understood him completely, had smoothed Hayden’s feathers when a spat brewed between him and his father because of their so often differing opinions. Looking back, Hayden knew there was really no substance to their arguments. He would be mindful of that when he had children.
Hayden gazed at Jessica from above the rim of his glasses. She spun around from the mirror to face him.
“But always so respectable.” She scrutinized him with narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure how we even ended up friends.”
He smiled and didn’t respond. It was no surprise to him that they’d ended up exactly as they were. Maybe he’d fallen in love with her the first time they’d met. He’d have been too young to know what had hit him even if it had the subtlety of a sack full of bricks hitting him in the head back then, but he knew it well now.
“It’s perfect, Louise,” Jessica said to her maid, touching the curls pinned neatly in place at the back of
her head. “Leave us a moment, please.”
The maid paused, as did Hayden with one brow quirked.
The maid didn’t argue, but she didn’t look happy to be leaving them alone, either.
Once she left, Hayden asked, “Is there any particular reason you wanted a word in private?”
He removed his glasses, folded them, and tucked them in his pocket. When Jessica sat next to him on the settee, he noticed her eyes were rimmed subtly with red, as though she hadn’t slept well the previous night. He was not so crass as to mention it, but he noted it. And then he wondered how many nights she hadn’t slept.
“I wanted to discuss the night—the night we…” She nibbled at her lip, looking for the right words.
It was endearing that she couldn’t finish her sentence, if it was the night he was thinking of and not the night Miller had ruined.…
“Since when have you ever been nervous around me?” he asked.
“Since you started kissing me,” she snapped, her back ramrod straight in defense.
He put his paper down so he could cup her chin between his finger and thumb. He leaned in close, their breaths dancing and swirling together. The only thing that mattered was that she didn’t pull away. Or at least that was what he told himself.
Had he finally won her over? Would she agree to marriage? Would she agree to him dealing with Miller once and for all? God, how he regretted not dealing with that man months ago.
“Is that why you wanted me alone? To kiss you some more? To prove that there is something deeper that needs to be explored more thoroughly between us?”
There was no one to interrupt them in her room, not even Mr. Warren, should he stop by the house. Hayden was more than happy to pick up where they’d left off, so long as she had the answer he wanted to hear.
“Even you can’t expect me to jump at my first offer of marriage.”
She pulled away from him.
That was not the answer he wanted to hear.
“Stop playing with me, Jess. It’s one thing to lead the men of the ton on in one of your games. You’re walking between the fine threads of our friendship as though snapping a strand wouldn’t hurt either of us.”
“I wouldn’t dare, Hayden. How little you know me to say something so harsh. I merely wanted to tell you that I’m still thinking of your proposition.”
He turned to her and momentarily stopped pacing the small room. “‘Proposition’ sounds so dirty. Call it what it is.”
“Fine. I am thinking on your proposal. I needed time and space away from you to sort out my feelings.”
He came toward her, pulled her to her feet and flush along the front of his body in a crushing embrace. “Time for what? To find excuses? To deny what we are together? Or do you want time alone to deal with Lady Montant on your own?”
He kissed her hard, demanding more than she was willing to give. Waiting for her to surrender if even for one single, fleeting moment.
He didn’t want to hear her arguments; he was sick to death of them. Maybe that was selfish, but he wanted her to himself once and for all.
And by God, he’d have her in the end so long as she stopped wavering with her answer.
While her lips did not part for his immediately, her body did yield. The soft, supple feel of her had him hardening beneath his trousers in less time than he could catch his breath. And he wasn’t feeling polite enough to hide exactly what she did to him. If that made him a cad, then so be it.
“I’m sick to death of denying this. Us,” he said.
Grip tightening on her arms, he kissed her again. He wanted her to forget herself. To completely let go and trust him to catch her before she ever fell. While she might trust him implicitly with some things, he knew there were still parts of her that she kept hidden even from him.
When their kiss ended, she tucked her head against his heart and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her breaths came at an even and steady pace.
“You confuse me.”
“I’m still the man you have been friends with all these years. Still the man you have always confided in.”
She pulled away hesitantly, as though she couldn’t bear to release him. “I have a number of errands I need to run today. Alone.”
“After the night Miller was here—”
She pressed her finger against his lips, stalling his words.
“Don’t speak of it,” she whispered.
He wanted to nip the tip of her finger, but it felt inappropriate considering the direction of their conversation.
He did so anyway. She laughed before pulling her hand away, shaking her head all the while.
“What is it you have to do that’s so important you are putting us off? I should accompany you everywhere; at least until Miller washes up.”
“I will not be cossetted.” She walked over to her vanity and riffled through a small box of hairpins until she found what she searched for.
Hayden came up behind her, took the dainty silver piece from her fingers, and buried it in the twisted braid at the back of her head. She made eye contact with him in the mirror. He rubbed his hands over the length of her arms.
“What are we doing?”
He shrugged, never breaking eye contact with her as he pushed the edge of her dress away from her shoulder so he could plant delicate kisses over the freckles there. Eyes half-closed, she leaned back against him as he showered more kisses along her nape, not stopping till he was at her ear.
He pulled away to whisper, “Do you want me to stop?”
When she didn’t respond, he slid one hand around to her midriff, his hand flat over her abdomen as he pulled her fully along the length of his body.
His eyes closed for the briefest moment, and when he opened them again Jessica’s head was thrown back on his shoulder with a look of pure ecstasy shaping her expression. If a simple touch and a few light kisses had the ability to put that expression on her face, how would she view him in the throes of passion?
Soon, he told himself. Soon she’d be his fully, because there was no way in hell after all that had happened between them that he’d let her slip through his fingers. She was already his. She could deny their mutual attraction all she wanted, but in the end she’d come to the realization that she was fighting him for no good reason. It was a losing battle, that.
Placing his hands on both of her thighs, he gathered up her heavy skirts. She didn’t protest. In fact, her look grew darker with need as he revealed her underthings inch by agonizing inch.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Her lips were damp from nibbling on them, and tinged red like the skin of an apple.
He held the material with one hand and snaked his finger around her upper thigh until his hand cupped her womanhood through the cambric and lace drawers she wore. “Then tell me to stop.”
Her lips parted revealing the neat rows of teeth top and bottom. He rubbed her cloth-clad mons, hard and slow.
“I can’t,” she said breathlessly.
“Then I won’t stop till you come apart in my arms. Till you lose control of yourself for me to see.”
Placing her hand atop his, she pressed him harder into her core, stopping his motions. Her eyes closed, as though she warred with her decision to let him continue or to pull him away and stop their intimacy altogether.
Her breath was jagged as she inhaled, causing her breasts to quiver where they were plumped up at the front of her dress. Pulling his other hand away from where it held up her dress, he slid it over her bodice so he could cup her breast. He squeezed it, wishing she were naked so he could feel her in his hands.
It appeared that her desires had won over her better judgment. Her gaze broke away from his as she turned her head to the side to catch his lips with hers. He kissed her deeply as his hand found the slit in her drawers so he could touch that sensitive part of her without impediment. Her tongue rolled around his, tasting and searching his mouth with an intensity that had them both panting.
His fingers slid t
hrough the moisture of her desire, making him groan into her mouth. He had a sudden urge to taste her there but didn’t want to stop the sweet friction of rubbing her, making her wetter as his forefinger found its way into her sheath while the palm of his hand rubbed her clitoris.
As he yanked the front of her dress down on one side the top part of her breast plumped out and the very edge of her pink areola was revealed. He shoved his hand under the delicate material, tearing it at the side. He needed to touch her; that was all there was to it. He needed to taste her. Fuck her. God, he had never wanted her more than he did now. But he knew if he did more, broke away from their kiss, removed his hand, reality would flow back in and she’d stop his exploration.
This was no different from the night he’d slept in her bed, only this time he was willing to take her without the piece of paper saying she was pledged solely to him. No, he’d bind her another way if he must, because it was about bloody time the Duke of Alsborough took a bride.
“God, I need you,” he said just before twining his tongue around hers once again.
Jessica turned slightly in his arms, his hand losing hold on her breast as she faced him.
Lips swollen, breasts rising fast and furious in her heightened state of pleasure, she pressed one hand against the vanity behind her and used the other to pull up the material of her dress where it had fallen back down around her thighs.
That was all the invitation Hayden needed to reach for the bodice of her dress and tear down the front enough that he could free her breasts. He sucked the tip of her right nipple into his mouth, bringing it to a firm peak, then released it with a sucking pop before tasting the other.
The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride Page 22
