He pressed her back down, and was about to blurt out his true feelings. Ask her to marry him, and the Devil with the consequences.
Just then several young women fluttered around, staring and giggling.
"Shall I get some ice for your ankle?" he asked in an urgent tone.
"My ankle... will be fine in a moment," she said, catching on to his stratagem just in time. "Thank you so much. I shall just sit here until the tingling stops."
"I shall fetch you some refreshment, then. Pray excuse me, ladies."
With a small bow, Jonathan left her.
Pamela stared after his retreating figure, not sure whether to laugh or to cry. She had certainly got the emotional reaction from him she had been craving, but it was more akin to fury than desire. He had not been about to propose; he was merely checking her ankle, as if she were a horse!
It was not appropriate for him to touch her so, but he was not one to stand on ceremony when someone was injured. She had seen that one day when she had been visiting and he had helped Mrs. Miller when she had cut her hand.
Jonathan gritted his teeth as he made his way across the room. He asked for a cup of punch, a napkin and some ice, and noticed that his hand was shaking as he reached out to accept the items.
Drat the girl! Didn't she know she was playing with fire? Did she not care?
There would have been a time not so long ago when he would have been delighted to play her little games. But he was a respectable vicar now, and worse than that, he cared about her. This was not a flirtatious, worldly game to him. He loved her.
But he could not have her in these circumstances. Not when she saw him as merely another man to be conquered. Certainly not when she was so flighty that she would never make a suitable clergyman's wife. Which, given the current way she had been behaving in Bath, would be never. He was only fooling himself to think that a leopard could change its spots.
Pamela loved to play the coquette, dance and socialize. He could no more turn her into a sober-minded, educated woman with a good social conscience than he could fly to the moon.
And it would not be fair, in any case. He ought to love her for who she was, not who he could try to make her become.
So then why did he love her?
He had asked himself the question a thousand times as he had lain awake at night, tossing and turning in an agony of desire. She was beautiful, exciting to be with. She made him want to become a better man, worthy of her.
He wanted to break his most solemn word in order to spend his days, and nights, with her. He longed for her to look at him as though the sun and moon were rising and setting in his eyes. He desired to kiss her senseless, lose himself inside her, see her carrying his child...
Oh God. His tempestuously passionate yearnings nearly unmanned him right there in the Assembly Rooms.
Romantic fool, he berated himself. There's so much more to marriage than simple attraction, desire, lust.
There had to be respect, esteem, trust. He did not trust Pamela. He most certainly did not trust himself. He had almost blurted out a marriage proposal without any regard for the consequences. He simply had to get hold of his rampaging feelings before he flung them all headlong into disaster.
Chapter Twenty-two
By the time he arrived back with the cup of punch and ice, Jonathan had mastered his emotions, resuming once more the careful mask of polite distance which usually served him so well.
He was relieved to see that Aunt Susan had come to inquire after Pamela's well being. Unfortunately, Captain Breedon and the Earl of Ferncliffe were also hovering about expressing their concern and overwhelming sympathy for her supposed turned ankle.
Pamela seemed fine to him, though he noted her high color as she risked a glance at him when she accepted the punch. He also observed that she looked rather restive, if not outright bored. His lie had explained satisfactorily their sudden departure from the dance floor, but it also meant that she had had to refuse the offers to dance which no doubt had come in profusion.
Pamela had decided she'd had more than enough of the ball and almost all of its occupants, and couldn't wait to leave. Jonathan was right. It was a waste of her life to be continually listening to the latest on-dit, and watching the men and women flirt, gamble, and drink like fish.
She had been worse than a wanton in trying to make a conquest of the one man who had always been her truest friend. Who had supported her through the bad times, seen her potential and tried to improve her, not debauch her. He had never indicated anything more than respect for her gender, certainly not treated her in any improper manner.
And how had she repaid him? By simpering like some Paphian. Really, it was too shameful. It was not anyone's fault. He must have a commitment elsewhere which had nothing to do with her. It was a credit to him that he had maintained his attachment, even though it evidently made him unhappy.
She could never imagine him engaging in any wrongdoing, such as an adulterous liaison. Perhaps the woman had not seen his worth, and wed another? Or her family did not approve of a mere clergyman? Or...
She caught him looking at her once too often, and said in a low tone, "If you don't mind, Mr. Deveril, I should like to leave now."
"Are you sure?" he asked in surprise.
"Quite sure. I'm feeling rather fatigued."
Her aunt fluttered her fan in her face as if that would revive her. "You'll be fine. Just sit and rest a moment longer."
Jonathan managed to catch Vanessa's eye as she progressed around the room. She came over at once.
"Pamela would like to leave. Have you and Clifford had enough for one evening?"
Vanessa smiled at him. "He's engaged in a rather pressing conversation about livestock, but I'm ready to accompany the two of you. No, Mistress Bledsoe, pray remain where you are. I shall just tell my husband we're leaving. He will escort you home when you're ready."
"Are you sure it's no trouble?"
"None at all. I shall make sure your niece gets home safely, gets up to her room and is tucked in." Vanessa's pointed comment fell on deaf ears, however; there was no immediate offer to see to Pamela's comfort.
Vanessa returned a short time later with their cloaks. "All set. Jonathan, pick up Miss Ashton, and let us go."
"Oh, er, no, I can manage, truly."
But Jonathan would not be denied. He lifted her in his arms as though she were no heavier than a feather, and with his long-legged stride, cleared the Upper Rooms before anyone could come after them. He did not want a flock of gallants hovering. He wanted her all to himself, if the truth were told.
But barring that, he wanted her to have time to herself to consider his words of reproach, and assess her character and deportment. He could tell she was disturbed by what he had said because of her lack of chatter and the fact that she was completely avoiding meeting his gaze, even though their faces were so close that he could have kissed her if he had chosen.
He resisted the temptation, and they made it to the carriage without incident. Vanessa tried to keep up a steady stream of conversation, but she could see the effort it cost them both. She had no idea what had happened between them. She wondered if they were being willfully blind to the attraction which was evident to anyone with a discerning eye.
Vanessa knew what the loss of his beloved in terms of both mind, and eventually spirit, had cost him. But he could not expect to be obliged to keep faith with Jane Eltham forever, not even for the sake of friendship. Perhaps she should venture to say something to Jonathan? To Pamela?
Vanessa's unpleasant chain of thought was interrupted by the carriage jolting over a large stone, causing them all to tumble about dangerously. Pamela snatched for the coach strap, but not before she was flung forward and practically landed squarely on Jonathan's chest.
"Oh, Lord, save me," Jonathan gritted out.
Then he did the one thing he had sworn he would never do.
He kissed Pamela.
Vanessa watch wide-eyed as the couple pr
actically devoured each other right in front of her. She was both shocked and relieved. She had suspected the depth of their passion, but knew Jonathan well enough to know he would never have acted had not Fate taken a hand.
As for Pamela, she could see that the girl's head had been turned by her success at Bath, much in the way Charlotte's had been when she had first come out. Thomas had proven to be a steadying influence upon her, and they were now the happiest of couples. The traumatic events of last spring had been unfortunate in some respects, but everything had worked out for the best. At least there no longer had to be any fears for the safety of Jane Eltham and her daughter Sophie at the hands of the evil seducer and blackmailer Herbert Paxton.
Thomas and Jonathan occasionally spoke of Jane, so she knew the woman would never recover her health after all she had been through. There was of course no question of marriage to Jane now. What was Jonathan holding onto? she wondered. A childhood ideal of love with as much substance as spun sugar? And surely Thomas would never expect his friend to honor the engagement and remain single? It would be just too cruel.
Jonathan was a loving and generous man. She could imagine him happy, with an adoring wife like Pamela and a house full of children.
Life was just so unfair sometimes. She shuddered to think what would have happened to her if her own dear Clifford had not come to her aid when her own half-brother had tried to gamble her away to his sottish friends, the better to get his hands on her fortune. How he head tried to poison her, and had murdered her mother right in front of her eyes when she had been a small child. She still awoke screaming at times, recalling how Gerald had tried to drag her to her death over her own balcony. How she had nearly lost her life, and her beloved.
She clasped her stomach to still her trembling. It was all right now; the danger was past. She and Clifford had a wonderful life, and little Arthur's had made their happiness complete.
She rubbed her stomach again, and decided to tell her husband the news when she got home. They were to be blessed again. She was certain of it now, and she had got through the first four months without incident, or even any illness in the mornings. She would tell Clifford tonight. No sense in putting it off any longer. Carpe diem. Seize the day, for certainly happiness could be very fleeting, and often a matter of pure luck or chance.
Though Jonathan would disagree with that pagan sentiment, she noted with a smile, watching the couple kiss. Anyone who heard his tale of how he had come to his ministry would know that Jonathan was convinced a beneficent God watched over them, performing miracles every day. Well, chance or God had thrust Pamela into Jonathan's lap, and she was pleased to see he was making the most of it.
Jonathan's blood surged both above and below his waist. His pulse pounded in his brain as his lips feasted upon Pamela's, begging, pleading with her for love, understanding, compassion.
He pulled her tightly to him, and she melted into his arms bonelessly. There was no struggle, nothing but a slight surprise before she started kissing him back as though she were trying to bestow her whole soul upon him. Grant him ownership of her body, mind and spirit.
His mouth slanted across hers to deepen the kiss. He stroked his hands up and down her slender waist, seeking to draw her in still further.
Oh, thank you, Lord, was her only thought as she plummeted into the whirlpool of passion only Jonathan's kiss could create.
This was how it was meant to be between them, she was sure. Nowhere else could she feel so joyous. No one else could stimulate her so. She looped her arms around his neck. Chest to chest, waist to waist, she merged as one with the man she loved body and soul.
And he loved her, she was certain of it. Surely no man could ever kiss with such devastating thoroughness, such passionate intensity, and merely be toying with a woman. At last, she had his true feelings from his own lips, as they fastened upon her own and promised eternity.
Vanessa eventually forced herself to perform her duty as chaperone. She cleared her throat, though she continued to sit with her hand over her eyes. "Jonathan, Pamela dear, we'll be back at the house shortly. I suggest you both adjust your clothing accordingly."
The couple broke off the kiss at last, and stared at each other and then Vanessa, mortification etched upon their countenances. Pamela tugged up her bodice and pulled down her skirt, while Jonathan began to rearrange his shirt, stock and cravat.
"Come now, it's really not so bad. You'll make a wonderful couple. I can see some obstacles to your happiness, but with patience and candor, you can overcome them."
Jonathan shook his head, and slid over into the corner of the carriage as far away from Pamela as possible before he grabbed her again. His senses threatened to overwhelm all reason, all principles, he desired her so.
Pamela did likewise, hurt at his seeming rejection of her, and appalled at her own wanton behavior. She had not only kissed him, she had begun to shred his clothing.
"For pity's sake, the two of you, say something."
Jonathan longed to beg for Pamela's hand in marriage. Instead he forced himself to state, "I can only say that I'm sorry to have embarrassed Miss Ashton and myself thus. If I were free to follow my own inclinations, I could think of no better companion to share my life with. But alas, even if I were free, I could never ask Pamela to throw away her life on so unworthy an object as myself."
He was still trembling with the passion the kiss had evoked. He didn't know how he was going to get out of the carriage without disgracing himself utterly. Every inch of his flesh throbbed and burned...
Pamela stared at him, but was oblivious to his masculine agony. She was in a feminine one all of her own, her breasts and the secret cove between her thighs both tingling with need. The time for remaining silent about her feelings had passed.
"You are not unworthy, Jonathan. You're one of the best people I've ever met. It is I who would not be worthy of you. I'm too vain and selfish. I love you, Jonathan. I don't want to be without you. That kiss. Surely it meant something to you. Shows that we have something special which should not be thrown away. Not unless you really think I would only drag you down, in which case, then you are right to ignore my girlish passion and walk away from me."
"Very noble, both of you," Vanessa said calmly, "but relinquishing love is not a virtue. Far from it. Often it can be a vice, a form of selfishness. It can even lead to all sorts of other unhappinesses and temptations. Please, you're young, and being a bit hasty. Now that your feelings for each other are out in the open, don't you think it might be best to be honest with each other, and work through the difficulties?"
"Vanessa, I know you have the best of intentions, but really, this isn't your affair. You know something of my circumstances, why I cannot marry," Jonathan said firmly.
"I don't care about money. I don't care about the loss of station which some people would perceive me suffering as a result of marrying a vicar. Aunt Susan and my stepmother are good enough women. They will see you for who you really are, and admire you. Even if they don't, I'm my own woman. I can marry whom I like, without a thought for what anyone says."
"But I care what people say! I will not have you dragged down because of me."
She shook her head. "That assumes I'm above you. I assure you I'm not. I may have a finer house and a large fortune, but I'm not better than you, Jonathan. I'm far worse. I want to be better. I'm sure I shall succeed, if only you will teach me the error of my ways. If you'll be my guide and my comfort."
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, my dearest Pamela. I can't. I can't explain my reasons without breaking a confidence. I can only say that I ardently admire and love you. If there were no impediments, I would take you exactly as you sit before me now, without altering you one jot.
"But there are impediments, my dear. I'm truly sorry. Therefore I will just allow myself to kiss your hand and say God bless you. I shall leave Bath in the morning, and begin to look elsewhere for a parish."
Pamela's eyes widened. "No, please don't leave Somerse
t! Not on my account!" she pleaded tearfully. "Just because I have been so foolish as to set my cap at you doesn't mean you should be forced to leave the place where you've done so much good for so many people. We can be friends still. I shall never bring up this painful subject again. We can go on as before."
He shook his head. Heedless of Vanessa's presence, he took her hand and pressed it warmly in both of his own. "Do you think that after tasting Paradise, I can be content to go back to my living Hell? Not to see you, touch you, be with you, my dear? No, it's too much, even for me, who have tried to bear my hopeless love for you with fortitude."
"But it doesn't have to be hopeless, Jonathan! I love you!"
He shrugged, and released her hand with a sigh. "You're young, Pamela. You think you love me. Time will teach you that you're wrong. Or that it is possible to love others, even better than you love me."
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 89
