And yet, now he had no choice but to reenter Society. Interact with her friends and, quite possibly, her. He’d paid his dues so now she would have to accept his presence at balls and whatever else he decided to attend. If he actually were invited to a ball, which at this point seemed very unlikely.
He still hadn’t determined how he would integrate himself back into the same Society that shunned him years ago. The reactions so far had not given him any encouragement. Embers of anger flamed to a red heat again.
He had paid his reparations for his small part of what happened that day. And he didn’t even know if his words had affected her. For all he knew, she might have scorned his heartfelt speech. She’d certainly rejected his kiss that morning. While he spent five years in purgatory for his action, she’d done nothing but go back to her prosperous life of shopping, painting, and socializing.
No one knew of her part in the destruction of his life.
Vanessa thought she knew the entire story, but she did not.
No one knew everything, except him.
Chapter 2
“Come along, it’s your turn now,” Sophie demanded.
Jennette stood by the refreshment table and looked over at Sophie. The fancy-dress ball was in full swing. Sophie had dressed like a gypsy in bright-colored skirts with her dark hair falling upon her back and a red mask covering half her face. Jennette had chosen the white gown of an angel to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday.
“But my guests,” Jennette protested.
“They will be fine without you for a few minutes.”
“I promised Lansing a dance and Colby one after that,” Jennette tried again.
“We need to do this now before the musicians take their break. Once that happens, I’ll be too busy.”
“But…”
“No more protests. You invited me to keep everyone entertained with my fortune-telling.” Sophie grabbed Jennette’s hand and tugged her toward the doorway, down the hallway to the salon. The small room had been set for Sophie to read people’s fortunes, and she’d been doing a brisk business all evening.
“Yes, keep them entertained, not me. I don’t even believe in such things as fortune-telling.”
No one could predict the future, even if her friend was quite recognized for doing just that. Especially her matchmaking fortunes. The last thing Jennette desired was anyone telling her of her future. She didn’t want to know, not when she’d tried so hard to forget her past.
“I know you don’t believe in this, which is why I can’t understand your vehement protests. It’s just for fun. After all, it is your birthday.”
Jennette had waited five long years for this day. After signing more legal papers than she’d ever imagined today, she was free. With the inheritance from her grandmother, she finally had the money to do what she should have done years ago.
“Besides, you will be leaving to study with that master in Florence soon. You should want to know if everything will go as expected.”
Sophie motioned for Jennette to sit in the yellow damask chair while she took the seat across from her. “I will, of course, come visit you. But I shall miss you dreadfully.”
Study with a master in Florence. The lie she’d told everyone from her mother to her best friends. No one knew the truth. No one could ever learn why she had to leave England. She had only waited so she could gain her inheritance and live comfortably. Now it was his turn to have a chance at happiness, even if it meant her misery.
With her gone, the memory of what happened that day would slowly leave the minds of the ton. He would be able to come back into Society, find a lovely woman, and marry. He was the type of man who would want a family and he deserved one, especially now that he held the title.
She had to leave now—for him. He had given her the past five years of peace. This was the least she could do for him.
“Now take off your mask and give me your hand,” Sophie demanded.
Knowing it was useless to argue with her stubborn friend, Jennette did as commanded. In seven years of friendship, she had never let Sophie read her tea leaves, her palm, or any other thing the medium might want. But there seemed no dissuading Sophie tonight.
“Oh my,” Sophie said, holding Jennette’s hand with her eyes closed.
“What is it?”
“I sense a deep secret you are keeping from everyone.”
She yanked her hand away only to have Sophie frown and grab it again. Jennette immediately thought of something to block Sophie’s intrusive sensations: dresses. Jennette imagined herself inspecting every dress she owned, anything to keep Sophie from determining her secret. In her mind, she opened her linen-press and pulled out her violet silk gown. The dress needed some trim, perhaps lace.
Was this working?
She needed to think of something else, quickly. Shoes! She had more shoes than dresses.
What was wrong with her? Sophie was her friend. But that did not matter, not even her friends could know her secret. What else could she think of?
“Stop fretting, Jennette. I can’t guess your secret. But I am a little surprised you have told no one. It’s not like you.”
“Do you see anything else?” Jennette asked, attempting to get Sophie on another topic.
“A man,” Sophie whispered. A deep frown marred her exotic beauty. “Perhaps it’s your new painting instructor in Florence.”
Since Jennette was only pretending to have a painting instructor, she highly doubted he was the man Sophie saw in her trance. After all, when she’d devised her plan to move to Florence, she had to create a valid reason for leaving. Enriching her artistic skills seemed the perfect solution.
“What does he look like?”
“I can’t see him like a portrait, Jennette. I only get fleeting images.”
“Images of what?”
“Just bits and pieces of things,” she replied with a delicate shrug of her shoulders.
“But what do you see now?” Jennette’s impatience rose.
“Darkness,” Sophie whispered with her eyes still closed. “I see darkness surrounding this man like a shroud.”
“Anything else?” Who could this man be? Some swarthy Italian who would sweep her off her feet? A man to help her forget her past and forge a brilliant future?
“His eyes are fascinating—light gray that lend a softness to him.” Sophie sighed. “Such sad eyes.”
Gray eyes.
Jennette swallowed. Surely, there were men in Florence who had gray eyes and chestnut hair—she pulled her hand out of Sophie’s grip again and stood. Sophie never said the man had chestnut hair, so certainly she must be thinking of another.
It had to be someone else.
“I must get back to my guests now.”
“Of course,” Sophie replied with a strange little smile. “Just remember, Jennette, I was right about Avis and Banning.”
Jennette walked to the door and paused at the threshold. Her brother and new sister-in-law had been happily married now for two months. And Sophie had helped make that match by scheming to get them together at a party. While Jennette doubted Sophie’s plan had really made a big difference, she had known about them before they even knew themselves.
But Sophie couldn’t be right about this one. Jennette had to believe that because the alternative was unimaginable. He’d promised to leave her alone after that fateful morning.
“What does he want from me, Sophie?” she whispered from the doorway.
“I cannot know for certain. But have a care, Jennette. With all the darkness surrounding him, I don’t think anything he might want could be good.”
She nodded sharply and left the room. With shaking hands, she retied her mask and readied herself to enter the ball again. Yet, when she reached the small ballroom of her brother’s house, she wasn’t ready to reenter the party. All the well-wishers and festivities could wait just a few minutes while she tried to compose herself. She turned and walked to the back terrace, hoping for some peace.
<
br /> The cool wind made her shiver as she left the terrace for the dark garden. Hopefully, the chill in the air would keep the guests inside. Peering around, she noticed no one out here.
Thank God.
After taking a seat in the shadowy corner by a rose bush, she spread out her white satin gown and sighed. Unable to sit back due to the lace wings tied on her back, she leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands.
Sophie had to be wrong. He would never seek her out. He had promised John he would protect her name but there was no reason for him to speak with her.
She shook her head and inhaled the musty smell of dead leaves rotting on the ground. Even if he did approach her publicly, she could always give him the cut. No one would reproach her for that, they would commend her.
“Are you a fairy or an angel?” a low raspy voice sounded behind her.
Jennette sat up straight and looked around frantically. She’d been sure there had been no one out here. Her heart pounded in her chest erratically. This was ridiculous. She was at her brother’s house in the middle of a party for ton. Only those invited could be here.
“Who’s there?”
“Well, if you’re an angel, I guess that makes me the devil. Can you resist the devil, Jennette?” the voice whispered.
Jennette stood and turned toward the voice. A man dressed like a highwayman from the last century rose from his seat behind the dying rose bushes. His clothes appeared dirty and worn, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps he wasn’t in costume. A black mask covered enough of his face to make her pause.
But as he stepped forward into the torch light, she could make out his eyes—icy gray as the morning frost. She would never forget those eyes. The way he had stared at her that morning from his seat, unable to move because of what she’d done.
He could not be here. Not at her brother’s home. Not at her birthday ball.
He’d promised to leave her alone.
“Don’t move,” he commanded. “You are the reason I came to this party. I need to speak with you.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
She lifted her skirts and ran toward the safety of the terrace and her family. The gravel crunched loudly under her feet. Couldn’t someone hear her footsteps? As she reached the first step of the terrace and within shouting distance of the party, he pulled her against his chest. His large, gloved hand covered her mouth, silencing her.
Jennette attempted to twist out his strong grip as he dragged her back into the shadows of the garden. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, when all her plans were almost complete. She had less than four weeks before her ship sailed, allowing her to leave him and this mess behind forever. He shoved her back against the pillar of the pergola and trapped her there with his arms. Fear shot through her like lightning.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
His smile turned feral. Through the mask, she could just make out his eyes. She shivered from the cold stare he leveled at her.
“What have I always wanted from you?” his low voice rasped.
“Take off your mask,” she whispered.
“Why? You know who I am.”
“You’re frightening me.”
He leaned in closer and smiled. He drew a gloved finger along her cheek, making her tremble even more. “Good. You should be afraid of me, Jennette. You know what I could do to you and your family.”
She closed her eyes and tried her best to breathe in deeply. “Please,” she begged.
“Very well.” He untied the mask and shoved it into his vest pocket. “Better?”
God, no, she thought. Seeing his face again after five years was not better. It was far worse. Chestnut hair, too long to be fashionable, lined his square face. His high cheekbones and stubborn jaw accented his rugged features. He’d always been a handsome man but the last few years had only made him more intriguing.
Her errant gaze moved to his lips. If she closed her eyes, she could remember the sensation of his mouth on hers. And that was what had caused all the problems.
“Matthew…”
“Are you still frightened of me, Jennette?”
She nodded. “What do you want from me?”
He laughed in such a soft tone it made her tremble again. “I had to see you.”
“Why? You promised to stay away from me.” She closed her eyes in thought. Anger surged when she realized the only reason he could be here. She glared up at him. “You only came to me because you need money, don’t you?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“No,” she said. “You want to blackmail me, am I right?”
He leaned in closer until the scent of his sandalwood soap teased her nose. “Blackmail is such an ugly word.”
“I heard about your father and brother’s accident. And I know about your finances.”
He glanced away from her for a moment. A hint of vulnerability crossed his face. “I didn’t think anyone else knew about my situation,” he whispered.
“Word of an earl’s finances spreads swiftly through the gossipmongers.”
“It really doesn’t matter.” His cold eyes stared into hers. “I didn’t come to beg you for money.”
If he didn’t want money, what could he possibly want from her? She had nothing else she could offer him.
“What do you want from me?”
“Your hand in marriage, of course,” he whispered nonchalantly.
Matthew watched as her brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. What the devil had he just said to her? He’d only come to the party to see her, admire her from afar. Perhaps gather the courage to speak with her and tell her of his return to Society.
Not propose marriage!
When she’d stepped out into the garden, he knew he had to speak with her. But only to let her know that he was in town and what his plans were.
Not propose marriage.
Every time he was near her, he said the most foolish things. He couldn’t take his gaze from her. The woman was still an “Incomparable” in the mind of the ton and with good reason. Her tall, slim body, black hair, and blue eyes made her a novelty amongst the petite blondes and brunettes. And the ton always loved something new. She had an alluring maturity now that seemed even more enticing. It was an absolute wonder she hadn’t married by now.
“My what?” she finally blurted.
“Your hand in marriage,” he repeated softly. He had no idea why he continued in this vein. He couldn’t marry her. Even if it would solve most of his problems.
“To you?”
“Yes.”
Her face contorted as if she were trying to determine the reason for his proposal. Finally, she looked up at him and simply said, “No.”
Matthew almost smiled. “I don’t believe you have thought this through, Jennette.”
“There is nothing to think through, my lord,” she answered in a condescending voice. “I have no plans to marry you or any other man.”
“You have no choice in this matter.”
“Oh my God, you mean to blackmail me into marriage!”
He hated how that sounded, no matter how true. The idea of blackmailing her into marriage sounded sweet in his mind. At least as far as the benefits marriage would bring him. Her sensual body had haunted him for years.
“Jennette, I’ve spent the past fortnight attempting to integrate myself back into the folds of the ton. Only to be rejected on every front. I need a wife.”
“A wealthy wife,” she added in a sarcastic tone.
Matthew clenched his fists against the columns. “Yes,” he bit out. “I need a wealthy wife and a respectable wife. Someone who can elevate my reputation.”
“Well, it won’t be me.” She ducked under his arm and moved toward the bench.
“I’ve tried everything I can think of. If I don’t marry quickly my tenants will be removed from the land, my property sold, and I’ll be even more ruined.”
She bit her lip. “You ask too much,” she whispered, stari
ng at her hands.
“I know.” Even that realization didn’t stop him from pursuing her. “But you owe me this, Jennette.”
“I know that, too.” Her gaze remained locked on her hands. “I can’t marry you, Matthew. I just couldn’t live with the memories of what happened.”
Matthew paced the small confines of the pergola. This was not going the way he’d expected. They were only supposed to talk and yet, now that he’d started this ridiculous conversation, he couldn’t stop it. Marrying her had never crossed his mind until he blurted the words out.
“Marry me or I’ll walk into that ballroom and tell everyone the truth.”
He cringed seeing the expression of shock cross her face. He couldn’t believe he had said that to her. What was it about her that brought out all the stupidity in him? The one glass of brandy he’d had before the ball couldn’t be the culprit. The urge to flee this scene grew. He should leave her alone, find another way to solve his problems. That was for the best.
But he couldn’t let go.
“You wouldn’t really do that, would you? If you did, there would be another inquest. You can’t possibly want that.” She moved slightly as if to run once more. Instead, she held her ground and stared at him. “What would John think of you?”
“John’s dead, Jennette.”
“I know that,” she hissed.
“But do you really want everyone in the ballroom to know you killed him?”
Chapter 3
Jennette gasped and stared at the cad in front of her. No one would believe him, she reasoned. Matthew had admitted to accidentally killing John. By doing so, he had protected her name and her family’s reputation. And he’d lost his. He left Society and became an outcast…all for her.
But if he suddenly changed his story, no one would trust him. They would think he was trying to place the blame on her to clear his name.
Yet, even as she tried to rationalize things, her guilt assailed her. The reason he could not find a bride had nothing to do with his finances and everything to do with a reputation he didn’t deserve. A reputation she had given him by letting John beg him to save her name.
Every Time We Kiss Page 2
