[Hope Chest 01.0] Mesmerist
Page 7
Finally, someone who knew how to react to a ghost.
But, unfortunately, it meant Gina couldn’t get out that way. Any moment now, curious guests would be opening doors and peering out into the hall. She slammed the door shut. Maybe she could make it out the window.
Too late. Drake had grabbed her rope and hauled her back by it until he held her once more in his secure grip. “What was that?” he asked, frowning.
Hoping to divert the topic onto something else, anything else, Gina said, “That was Chloe Harrington, getting ready to knock on your door. Did you have a tryst planned or something?” she asked in an accusing tone. He wasn’t really supposed to have a fling with one of these women she’d flung at him.
“No, of course not,” he said in indignation, but his hold didn’t loosen one bit.
“Well, she seemed to think so. She looked very fetching in her best nightie, too.”
“Don’t be absurd. Why would Miss Harrington come to my room in the middle of the night?”
Jeez, for a supposedly smart guy, he was surprisingly clueless when it came to people’s motives. “Why do you think?”
If possible, he scowled even harder. “Nonsense. Miss Harrington is a chaste young woman who wouldn’t dream of doing anything so bold.”
Yeah, right. “Oh, I’m sure she planned on getting a wedding ring out of it.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the scuttlebutt around the hotel is that Mrs. Harrington has so many daughters to marry off that she isn’t above tricking a man or two into matrimony.” She tried to squirm out of his grip, but no dice. “Now do you understand?”
He looked confused. “Are you certain of this?”
“Not absolutely positive, no. But I’ll bet Chloe’s mama will be along any moment now.”
Another feminine screech came from out in the hall, right on cue. “My baby!”
Smugly, Gina said, “See? Don’t worry—she’d be foolish to try anything now.” Then, to capitalize on this unexpected boon, she ceased struggling and gazed up at him with a woebegone expression that had worked wonders in wrapping her father around her little finger. “I just saved you from a fate worse than Birdie Biddle. Please, won’t you let me go?”
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to explain what you’re doing here.” He grimaced. “But first, you’d best wash your face.”
She’d forgotten her ghoulish makeup. No wonder the woebegone look hadn’t worked. Sighing, she let him lead her over to the washbasin. She had enough vanity that she didn’t want to look like a corpse around such a hunk, and besides, she didn’t want anyone else to catch her like this, either. If the Major caught wind of this, she’d really be in for it.
As she wiped the flour from her face and untied the rope from her harness, she wondered what Drake had in mind for her. Whatever it was, she doubted she’d like it. But without proof of her misdeed, it was his word against hers. She had to make a break for it. Now.
Quickly, she dropped her washcloth and dived for the window. Unfortunately, Drake was too swift for her once again. He caught her around the waist. Determined to escape this time, Gina tried to wriggle away. No dice. In their struggle, they ended up on the bed with Drake sprawled on top of her.
“Let go of me,” she said, panting. Any other time, this wrestling match might be kind of fun, but she was in danger of losing her job if she got caught.
He seized her wrists and held them pinned above her head to the bed. “Not until you tell me why you are trying so hard to scare me away.”
Gina gave up and blew a long strand of hair out of her face. Her mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation he’d buy. As she stilled, she became conscious of his strong body against hers. Though he had been decently clothed in a dark maroon robe, the robe had parted during their tussle, and Gina couldn’t help but wonder just what was being exposed down around her thighs. It felt like he had nothing on underneath.
But she couldn’t verify her suspicions as Drake held her motionless, pinned by his strong hands and his fascinating dark eyes. Those sexy eyes. . . . As Gina tried to regain her breath, his nearness and her senses slowly besieged her. She became very conscious of his musky scent, the warmth of his skin, and his lower body pressed intimately against hers.
Yum. He was so close she could reach out and taste him.
Oh no, where had that idea come from? This was worse, much worse than that time when he’d trapped her in the alcove.
“Well?” he asked softly.
It was obvious he wasn’t unaffected either. She could feel his reaction—a swelling against her inner thigh. This evidence of his arousal should have turned her off, but it had just the opposite effect. She swallowed hard. “Wha—what?”
He lowered his face so he was only a breath away, the soft lamplight bringing into view the slashing white streak in his hair and the dark, crisp hair curling on his chest between the parted lapels of his robe. Damn. She was a sucker for a furry chest.
Pleasurable, yearning sensations overwhelmed her. She licked her lips and looked up at him with wide eyes, wanting to touch him, needing to kiss him, hoping he would bring his mouth just . . . a . . . little . . . closer.
Drake inhaled sharply, then slowly lowered his mouth to hers. First, he kissed her with a delicate touch that sent her senses reeling. Then, when she couldn’t help but respond, he slanted his mouth across hers and she damn near fainted with giddiness.
He released her wrists to clasp her to him more fully, freeing her hands to explore him. She parted his robe even more and burrowed her hands in all that lovely hair on his chest as his kisses turned more urgent.
Sensations overwhelmed her and she was mindless for a while, aware of nothing but the feel of his skin under her hands, the play of his lips on hers, and his warm hands seeking the softness of her breasts through her nightgown and T-shirt.
Damn—she was wearing too many clothes. Gina pushed him away for a moment, determined to remove at least one layer of unnecessary clothing, but he must have mistaken her motives, for he pulled back sharply and got off the bed.
He flashed her for an all too brief moment with his nudity, but swiftly pulled together the edges of his robe and gave her an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I—I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh, yes, you should,” Gina contradicted him, unwilling to lose the glow his touch had aroused in her. She rose from the bed to take a step toward his warmth. “And you were doing such a good job of it, too.”
He smoothed back his hair and averted his gaze, stepping back. “No, I am a gentleman, and gentlemen do not take advantage of young ladies . . . no matter how willing.”
“Was that a crack?” she asked suspiciously, remembering how he’d defended Chloe and her so-called virtue.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.” Feeling suddenly ashamed and belatedly remembering her vow to have nothing to do with men, she did the only thing she could think of.
She jumped out the window.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Drake cursed his lack of sleep. This day, of all days, he needed to be fully alert.
He blamed Gina for the bleary eyes staring back at him from the shaving mirror. Not because of her ill-advised appearance as a ghost—he’d deduced early on that she and Rupert were the ones trying to frighten him. So it wasn’t her ghostly presence that had disturbed him, but her all too physical one.
He’d lain awake for the rest of the night, reliving those moments when she’d lain beneath him, soft, womanly, inviting. . . . And her unexpected response had merely added fuel to the fire, setting his senses ablaze, making his body crave the satisfaction of being cradled within her warmth.
It was disturbing. He hadn’t been this aroused in a very long time. He had denied himself the comforting touch of women, believing he didn’t deserve the solace they represented. Not when Charlotte’s short life had been so devoid of the blessings of a loving spouse.
Now, Gina threatened to disturb his equilibrium Worse, he would have to tender her an apology. There was no excuse for his behavior last night. He should have ignored her ripe body beneath his, disregarded her sensuality and unreserved response. Unfortunately, the combination of all three wrapped up in the provocative package that was Gina had been too much for him.
And just when had Miss Charles become Gina in his thoughts? Annoyed, Drake wondered what ailed the woman, no matter what he called her. Instead of lingering on the silky texture of her mouth, he should remember her actions. If she was not mentally imbalanced already, she was definitely heading in that direction.
A tiny voice niggled at him. Wasn’t that what he had been trained to do, help people with mental illnesses?
Perhaps, but nothing in his training had prepared him to deal with Gina, especially since she was so intent on making him change his behavior.
That was another puzzle. Why the devil did she want him to leave the resort so badly?
He sighed. He couldn’t afford to contemplate the enigma of Gina Charles today, nor could he afford to let her distract him from his main purpose. For now, he needed to concentrate on his upcoming lecture. He’d worry about Gina later.
Drake spent the rest of the day going over his notes until the time finally came for his lecture. Knowing he was as prepared as he could possibly be, Drake approached the small theater with confidence. Not surprisingly, it was decorated as lavishly as the rest of the hotel, with heavy velvet curtains lining the small stage. The theater was designed to hold perhaps a hundred people or so, and Drake was gratified to see a good number of people filling the seats.
Surveying those seated below, Drake nodded at the Biddles and Harringtons, who had assured him faithfully they’d be there, though he certainly hadn’t pressed for their attendance. He estimated perhaps forty additional people had chosen to attend, which pleased him. That was, until he caught sight of a familiar form entering from the rear—Gina.
She seemed different somehow, and it took him a few moments to realize this was the first time he’d seen her attired in anything but that depressing gray uniform. Well, except for the nightgown last night, and he had best not think of that. And, if the awkward way she moved in the bright blue dress was any indication, she had borrowed the finery from someone else.
Drake frowned. Any other young woman would go out of her way to avoid him after he had compromised her virtue. He should have known Gina would never do the expected.
So, why had she come? To cause trouble? He wouldn’t put it past her.
She seated herself toward the back, and a man sat beside her who didn’t fit in with the rest of the guests. His clothing was a little too bright, his hair too shiny, and he was wearing too much flashy jewelry to appear perfectly respectable. But when the man distracted Gina by engaging her in conversation, Drake was more than happy to accord him all the virtues of a gentleman . . . if he would only continue to hold her attention.
Dr. Ziegler approached Drake and cleared his throat. “Well, young man, are you ready to begin?”
Straightening his jacket, Drake nodded.
As Dr. Ziegler went to the lectern, Drake quickly marshaled his facts and figures in his mind and double-checked to ensure he had his notes handy. He missed most of Dr. Ziegler’s introduction, but the smattering of polite applause let him know the moment he had been waiting for had arrived.
This was the first time he had addressed a group, but surprisingly, Drake wasn’t nervous. Instead, his confidence was bolstered by the knowledge that the information he had to impart was vitally important.
He smiled down at the audience. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming. This is the first of a series of lectures I shall present on the topic of mesmerism, and tonight, I will start with a history of the science as it has evolved from Dr. Mesmer’s early experiments through later practitioners to the methods in use today.”
Eager interest appeared on most of the faces, so Drake went on to explain Mesmer’s early belief that it was something he called animal magnetism that had caused the hypnotic effects he had engendered in his patients. As Drake expounded on the progression of mesmerism over the past twelve years, he was careful not to emulate or even mention mesmerism’s more colorful and flamboyant practitioners. They had given the science a bad name, lowering it to the status of sensational sideshow entertainment instead of exploring the wonderful potential it held for curing mental illness.
But the more Drake spoke, the more the upturned faces changed from avid interest to polite acceptance. Fearing he would lose them, Drake gave them a preview of the next lecture, reciting an impressive list of the types and kinds of illnesses mesmerism had already helped to alleviate.
It didn’t help. Their expressions reflected utter boredom now. Confused as to where he had gone wrong, Drake finished with an open invitation to visit him in Dr. Ziegler’s office any afternoon between the hours of two and four.
Scattered, halfhearted applause greeted his closing remarks, leaving Drake even more confused. What had gone wrong? He had been assiduous in presenting his carefully cultivated facts.
Dr. Ziegler came up to shake his hand. “A very illuminating presentation, Mr. Manton, worthy of a true scholar.”
Bemused, Drake thanked him, wondering if the doctor had attended a different lecture than the rest of the audience. They couldn’t seem to leave fast enough.
All except the Biddles and the Harringtons, that is. Mrs. Biddle dragged Letty up to the stage and declared, “What a marvelous lecture, Mr. Manton. Weren’t we just saying so, Letty, dear?”
“Yes, Mama,” Letty replied dutifully, though it was obvious she had been as filled with ennui as the rest.
The Misses Harrington arrived then, accompanied by their mother, and all the women vied with one another in effusive praise of his resonant speaking voice and his commanding presence at the lectern.
In resignation, Drake realized none of them had mentioned the important message he had tried to convey.
He listened politely but wished himself elsewhere, needing to lick his wounds in private and determine what had gone wrong. He thanked them for their praise, damning as it was, and murmured an excuse to escape their insincere pleasantries.
The momentary relief caused by their departure abruptly ceased when he turned and came face to face with Gina. For a brief moment, he wished he hadn’t been so hasty. He would welcome a little insincerity in the face of Gina’s blunt honesty.
As if the pain of his humiliation wasn’t enough, he had to endure her expression of pity as well. “So,” he snapped, “have you come to rub salt in my wounds?”
Well, that’s a slap in the face, Gina thought. All she’d planned to do was pat him on the hand and say, “There, there.” Now, she felt more like kicking him in the shins. Raising her chin, she glared at him. “No, I just wanted to say I’m sorry it didn’t go well for you.”
He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have barked at you.” Sensing this wasn’t the right time to offer condolences or, ever worse, try once more to convince him to leave the resort, Gina turned away.
“Wait,” Drake said urgently.
Surprised, she halted. This was a first. Usually, he couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
Continuing in a low voice, he said, “I believe I owe you an apology.”
“It’s okay. You already said you’re sorry.”
“No, I mean an apology of a different sort . . . for my behavior last night. I was somewhat less than gentlemanly.”
Gina felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. Why did he have to remind her of that? She’d be
en trying to forget it all day. For one thing, she couldn’t afford to get involved with any man, especially not here in the past. There was no future in it.
For another, women in this time were so ridiculously virtuous, he probably thought she was wickedly immoral for responding to his kiss. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said quickly. Besides, it was partially her fault that it had gone as far as it had . . . though it was totally his fault that they’d stopped.
When he looked as though he wanted to continue, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Really, don’t mention it.” She wanted to forget the whole night had happened. When Esme had somehow learned of it, Gina didn’t know which the housekeeper found more appalling—the fact that Gina had worn her nightgown to try to scare Drake away, or that she had worn her jeans and T-shirt underneath.
In any case, Esme had removed all her twenty-first century clothing for “safekeeping.” The only thing Gina had left to remind her of the future was the article she had secreted under the mattress.
“As you wish,” Drake said in a placating tone, then paused for a moment, thinking. “I’ll probably regret this, but I wonder if you might help me with another matter.”
“What’s that?” she asked, grateful for a change of subject.
“Despite your wish to get rid of me, or perhaps because of it, you’re the only one who has been honest with me. Could you . . . would you . . . tell me where my lecture went wrong?”
Where didn’t it? But Gina kept the flip response to herself. Drake seemed honestly bewildered as to why his talk had bombed. She paused, wondering how to phrase his problem without offending him, but the chatter of female voices interrupted her.
Uh-oh, it looked like Drake’s fan club was inching back this way. Nodding in their direction, she said, “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere else?”
A faint grimace twisted his mouth. “An excellent idea. Where?”
“It’s rather hot in here.” Especially with all the clothes Esme insisted a proper lady must wear on an evening out. “Why don’t you give me twenty minutes to change, and I’ll meet you in the gardens?”