Eyes upon Jo, he made his way toward her. As he neared his ears identified the girls who’d been speaking badly about Jo. He knew he should wait for an introduction but he’d never been one for propriety. Plus, they’d already met.
Jo spoke to a young girl who was heavier than most near them. Clara, he reasoned. The other group of girls fell silent as he approached. The middle one, he pegged as Sara. Hers was a cold beauty. She vied for his attention, head tilted just so, coy look in place, and her breast more exposed than others, while not quite scandalous, it bordered upon it. Her eyes told him she expected him to make her acquaintance, proper or not. After all, he was a wealthy titled lord.
He ignored her, easily dismissing her with nothing more than a glance. The young one talking to Jo trailed off as he arrived, her eyes going wide.
“Hello, Jo,” he said, well aware it was a personal greeting.
She rotated toward him and her large blue eyes filled with joy, although he could see the sadness behind that.
“Colin,” she said before blushing and dipping a curtsey. “I mean, Lord Clifton.”
The other girls moved closer.
“Nonsense. Family friends need not fall on such formality. It is good to see you again.” In his peripheral vision he saw Sara glance between the two of them and he knew the game had begun for the chit.
Jo flashed him a grateful smile. “And you. This is Miss Clara Field.”
The chubby girl blushed and gave a curtsey as well. “Good to m…meet you, my lord.”
He took her hand and bowed over it. “Clara,” he remarked softly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” His lips brushed the back of her hand. Catching Jo’s eye, he winked. “Care to take a stroll around the room, Jo?” He took her arm and led her off not really giving her a chance to refuse.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Not quite what you expected, is it?”
“I hate it.” Her fingers tightened on the crook of his arm. “Everyone is so mean.”
“Welcome to London, Jo.”
She sighed. “I want to go home.”
He inhaled deeply, well aware of his own wish to leave London behind. On the heavenly perfumed air he caught a whiff of a scent which could make him lose all control.
Spiced roses and vanilla.
“Where is she?” he demanded in a low tone.
“Over here,” Jo stated, leading him to an unpopulated area of the room.
His heart thundered behind his ribs with enough force he wondered would they break. He had absolutely no idea of how it would be to be face to face with her again. There were no words.
Najja sat perched on the edge of her chair and from the expression on her face, she’d seen them coming.
“Look who I found, Najja,” Jo said happily.
She rose and smoothed her hands down the blue cambric of her gown. “Hello, Lord Clifton.” Najja bobbed a curtsey.
His fingers itched to touch her supple skin. Kiss along her limbs and indulge in her responses.
“Miss Najja.”
Jo repositioned herself by Najja but he only had eyes for the enchantress from Africa. The object of his desire.
“We need to talk,” he said, nails digging into his palms so he would keep his hands to himself.
She barely blinked. “I hardly think this is the proper place for that,” she replied in a composed tone.
“Then when?” He recognized the shift in her gaze. “No games, Najja or I will make damn sure to compromise you.” His words were edged with steel and he meant each one of them.
“As happy as this makes me to hear,” Jo interjected in a dry tone, “now is not the time. Besides I am ready to leave.”
Colin bit back a curse but knew Jo had the right of it. Now was not the time. Here, not the place. “I will walk you out.”
Jo almost refuted him but said nothing. They headed for the door.
Duchess Haversham who had a few people around her, stepped in his path. “Leaving already, Clifton?”
“No, Your Grace. I am seeing Miss Adrys to her carriage.
The woman lifted her brows. “I was not aware you knew Lord Adrys or his family.”
Glancing over the young women who’d upset Jo, he replied, “I am. We have bordering estates in the country. Miss Adrys and her family are very good friends of mine.”
The duchess smiled briefly. “And a good friend to have you would be. Clifton. Miss Adrys.”
Jo curtsied. “Your Grace. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You must come by sometime and tell me about growing up in Africa. I would love to hear of your adventures.” And just like that, Jo had another ally in her corner.
“It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.”
“Good night, your grace,” Colin said encouraging his group to continue on.
They got two steps away. “Clifton.”
He turned. “Your Grace?”
“Lunch tomorrow.”
He nodded. “I will be on time.”
“See that you are.” She cast a glance over a silent Najja then continued on her way.
Colin called for his carriage to be brought around and climbed in after the women. The door was about closed when it ripped back open. He never saw Najja move but she was suddenly between Jo and the person who’d yanked open the door. Trystan’s face popped in.
“Heading out?” he asked.
“Seeing Miss Adrys home.”
“Excellent.” The man jumped in without an invitation and settled beside him. “I was bored in there.”
Colin muttered, “Behave.”
The door closed and the carriage moved out. Inside the warmth and dark made him mull over what he longed to do to Najja. With Najja. For Najja. And truth be told none of those things had the other two in the carriage around.
“How do you like London?” Trystan asked.
“It…it is very different than I thought,” Jo responded.
“Jo, the man talking to you is my good friend Mr. Trystan Wilkes.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Trystan please. Colin tells me you lived in Africa most of your life.”
“Yes.” Jo’s voice took on the warmth it had been lacking. “Have you been?”
“I have. A few times.”
“I miss it, this place…England is so…dreary.”
Wilkes chuckled. “Give it a chance, there are some very beautiful things here.”
“Oh, forgive me, I did not mean to say this country was ugly. I…I…,” she broke off in a language he didn’t know. Trystan did.
Soon she and Trystan were talking and the closer they drew to Jo’s the surlier Colin’s attitude became. He hated not knowing this language. The carriage halted and when the door opened, Najja alighted before he could say anything to her. While Trystan assisted Jo down, Colin rounded on Najja.
“We need to talk, luv.”
The glow from the light hanging from the carriage allowed him to see her eyes. Large, pooling, and…emotionless?
“There is nothing to discuss.”
Rage swarmed him. “The hell!” Oblivious to who may be watching, he grabbed her arm and propelled her back into the frame of his carriage. “Do not force my hand on this, luv. How could you not tell me you were a virgin?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
Finally some emotion. Her eyes widened and filled with uncertainty.
“Did you think I would not know?”
Her expression told him that’s exactly what she’d thought. It was odd to see her so flustered and unsure. However as fast as it appeared the uncertainty vanished like a puff of air.
“Thank you for the ride home, Lord Clifton.” She removed his hand from her arm and slipped around him.
“Wait,” he said, spinning on his heel and reaching for her again. The muscles in her arm flexed beneath his fingers but she didn’t pull away. Nor did she look at him.
He shrugged with the raging emotions inside him. She was so close and yet at the same time, unreachabl
e. Swallowing his muttered oath, he released her arm and allowed her to trail Jo up the front steps. Trystan at his side.
At the door, Jo turned back. “Thank you, Colin. For everything. Good night, Mr. Wilkes.”
The women vanished inside. He remained silent until they had returned to the coach and were on their way back to Haversham.
“I can feel the tension rolling off you, Colin. What is the problem? Are you thinking about Chambers?”
He nodded. “I wish I knew what he meant about it not being over.” Colin shifted against the seat. “My life was so much simpler in the Navy.”
Wilkes laughed. “You will be a great earl, my friend, but that is not it, is it? What else is bothering you?”
He flexed his fingers and stretched out his long legs. “Najja is content to ignore the fact she was a virgin. I told her we had to talk.”
Trystan snorted. “That all?”
“I also told her I would compromise her if she continued to ignore me.”
“You can do no such thing. She is a servant. It would be a dalliance at best. You do not compromise them.”
Najja was so much more than a servant.
The carriage stopped and they climbed out. The Haversham House for the second time that night sat before them, brilliantly lit and full of people. Colin could hear stands of music pouring from the ballroom. He didn’t want to be here. Colin removed his gloves and slapped them against his leg in an agitated action.
“I was her first and by God I will be her last,” he vowed then yanked open the door and reentered the ball.
Chapter Eleven
Najja woke to vivid nightmares for the first time in years. Her body sat drenched in sweat and she had her weapons held before her. One in a defensive position and the other ready to deliver a kill shot.
Her hands shook as she lowered the sais to the mattress beside her. She ran a hand over her mouth and bolted from the bed, barely making it before she lost the contents of her stomach. On shaky limbs she got cleaned up and splashed some clean water on her face. She stared at her flickering reflection in the small mirror over the wash stand, courtesy of the fire which still burned in the hearth.
Calm yourself. Deep breaths.
She continued to tell herself that as she stoked the fire and returned to the bed. She stood beside it and honed in on her sais. Flames licked at her skin, lowering her more into her own private hell. Without another breath, she fit them in her hands and began a workout. More sweat poured but this time she pressed harder. Muscles burned and lungs screamed for respite yet she continued on.
A whisper of feeling alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone. She finished and paused, ingesting large breaths of air, filling her lungs until they no longer burned. Folding her legs, she sank to the thick rug and allowed the black steel to leave her grasp.
“Why are you awake, Jo?” she asked without glancing in her direction.
“I heard you scream.” Footsteps drew near. “Are you all right?” Jo’s tone was laced with concern.
Shame at being heard ran over her and she struggled against her embarrassment. “I am fine. Go back to sleep.”
Najja could feel Jo’s hesitation but she continued to sit rigid on the floor. Eventually Jo’s steps retreated and the door opened.
“Jo?”
“Yes, Najja?”
“Thank you for checking on me.” She met her friend’s gaze.
A tremulant smile lifted Jo’s lips. “Good night, Najja.” Jo’s farewell was in her native tongue and she responded in kind.
The moment she was alone again, she scooped up her sais and got to her feet. She shuffled to the window and sat on the cushion in the sill. Frozen until the first shafts of morning light sliced through the dark, Najja saw the snow still fell outside. Deep inside she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that filled her from head to feet. Something was out there. Something or someone wanted to hurt the Adrys family. She had no clue why, who, or how. Helpless was not a feeling she did well.
“It makes no sense,” she muttered, her breath condensing on the window.
Najja climbed upon the bed and lay back down, wishing she could get more sleep. Tugging the blanket up, she closed her eyes and tried. It didn’t matter, even with one hand wrapped around a sai she found no rest to be had.
Not much later, she sought out Lord Adrys in his study, well aware of his early morning habits.
“Good morning, Najja. It…good Lord, are you feeling okay?”
“A rough night ’tis all. Thank you for inquiring.”
He appeared skeptical but kept his thoughts to himself. “What, then, brings you here so early?”
She approached the edge of his desk and stood there assessing the man she saw. His morning suit perfectly pressed, cravat tied in a way Beau Brummell could be envious of. His face, tanned from the years of exposure to Africa’s clime, watched her with unerring directness.
“What did you withhold from me?”
His eyes shifted slightly to the right before they refocused on her.
“Why do you think I did?”
She altered her stance yet refused to allow him to drop his gaze. Najja barely moved even though she wanted to demand. Since the fire at their house in Africa she’d felt a bit on edge. An unpleasant feeling that grew on a daily basis.
Except when she was with Colin. During those few and precious times she’d had alone with him, her soul had found peace. Those memories she would call upon and remind herself she had experienced true happiness.
“Tell me,” she said tonelessly.
His face displayed his distress. Hayworth rose and sat immediately before shoving his hand through his hair. Wordlessly he gestured to a chair and she lowered herself to the end of it.
“Before I met Honoria I was involved with this other girl.” He paused. “Elizabeth, daughter of the late Marquis of Plantar. She was…beautiful. And I loved her. Her father did not approve of me for he had already promised her to another. An aging duke.”
Najja waited, understanding he had to tell this at his own speed and in his own way.
“We had plans to elope and go to Greta Green. Someone found out and my father arranged for me to miss it. When I made it back to town I was told Elizabeth had been sent to the Continent.”
He reached for the glass of scotch on his desk, his hand shook and she placed her gaze back upon him.
“I think she is behind these attacks.”
“Why?” she asked, breaking her silence.
“I gave Elizabeth a bracelet. The very same one I got from the post along with a letter filled with anger. Full of how I abandoned her and left her to be humiliated alone.”
“So now she wants you to suffer like she did.”
His face crumpled. “Yes. I had hoped it a hoax but when the second message came, I knew it was real.”
A vindictive woman.
“Anything else? I need a description of her.” Her mind whirled with the possibilities this new information presented. In her experience, women had the potential to be just as nasty if not more so than men. And to be honest she’d paid more attention to men near Jo versus women.
Hayworth gave her the description of how she looked last time he saw her. She didn’t point out the nostalgia in his voice. He loved his wife, she knew this, but the way he spoke about the one who got away…
She stopped that line of thought for it had nothing to do with her.
“Is there anything else?” she questioned again once he’d fallen silent.
“That is all.”
She pushed to her feet and strode to the door. Before she left, Najja paused and spun back. “It may be prudent to have Jo remain close to home.”
Hayworth ran a hand over his mouth. “Keep her safe, Najja. She is my world.” A brief hesitation. “My entire world.”
She nodded, understanding completely, before she vacated the room. With a quick peek in the breakfast room, she headed to the music room once she was sure Jo wasn’t present
. Heart heavy and mind racing, Najja made her way to the piano. She strolled around the polished black object, her fingers trailing over the wood.
Eventually she migrated to the window. One shoulder against the curtain-shrouded pane she stared out at the snowy London morning. No snow fell for the moment but the sun had a hard time penetrating the gray clouds and the thick black coal smoke that puffed endlessly into the sky.
She focused on the frost sprinkling the glass and allowed her mind to drift along carried by a light wind. It went to Colin. Seeing him last night had been--
“Najja?”
Jo’s voice snapped her line of thought. Blinking, she glanced over her shoulder to see Jo standing there in a lovely green dress. Her hair done up in ringlets gave her an innocent air.
“Good morning, Jo.”
“You are up early, did you sleep well?”
Not a bit. Najja smiled and lied. “I slept fine. What do you have planned for today?”
She pursed her lips briefly. “Papa said he thinks I should stay in, he says it is too dangerous for me out there.”
Najja was grateful it had come from her father. Jo tended to listen to him more than her mother. “Good advice,” she remarked offhandedly.
Jo walked to her side. “I have a caller so I will be in the parlor.” She touched her arm and added, “It is Miss Clara from last night.”
That made her feel better. “Have a good visit,” Najja said.
Jo fairly skipped from the room, leaving her alone once more. Left to her own devices, Najja spent the reminder of the morning in her room. She popped her head in the parlor and found the young women chatting like old friends with a pot of chocolate and sweets between them. There was an invitation for her to join them but she declined, needing to be alone still.
Najja made her way back to the quiet solitude of the music room. She sat on the padded bench before the piano, closed her eyes, and began to play. This was the one instrument she excelled at and she allowed her soul to pick the piece. It came from within. Not anything written anywhere. Her own creation, something that no one could take from her, not even Father.
Her instincts screamed to her and she ended up dancing her fingers over the smooth bone keys.
“You are a woman of many talents, Najja.” Colin’s deep voice wrapped around her, warming her like he held her.
What the Earl Desires Page 17
