“But I do owe you an apology for thinking the worst of you. I had no idea you were buying all those items for the orphans.”
“You never asked. You just assumed I was buying for myself.”
He looked down at the floor of the carriage. “I made a dreadful error. Please accept my sincerest apologies.”
A part of her wanted to mock him further, but he did look sincere. “Apology accepted.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me what you were doing?” he asked softly.
“I do not buy the children clothing so everyone can congratulate me on being such an upstanding lady.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“Because the children should have decent clothes to wear. Because Victoria is a dear friend but won’t take money from me out of pride.” She paused then whispered, “Because it is the right thing to do and I have the means to do it.”
He nodded. “And you don’t care what people think of you.”
If only he knew the inaccuracy of his statement. “If they wish to believe I’m a frivolous spendthrift, then let them. I know the truth.”
“And now, so do I.”
“Not because I chose to tell you,” she reminded him.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.
And he shouldn’t. But she did not want him to leave her just yet. “We could drive for a short while. My mother knows where I am and if it takes a bit longer than usual she won’t worry overmuch.”
“Someone might see us.” He squeezed her hands slightly.
“True, but it is very dark.”
“The servants might gossip,” he whispered.
“Never.”
“Indeed. But why would you want to spend even a minute longer than needed in my company after what I said about you?”
Jennette bit down on her lip to keep from blurting out that she actually enjoyed his companionship. At least when he didn’t believe the worst of her. The raspy tone of his voice soothed her and made her feel secure.
The man who could ruin her and her family made her feel protected. What a ridiculous notion!
Ignoring his question, she asked, “Did you enjoy the literary salon?”
He released her hands and leaned back with a smile. “Not at all. Between Miss Whitmore’s suffocating perfume and her scandalous advances—”
“She made advances in front of everyone?”
“Very furtively. I doubt anyone would have noticed.”
“You did!” she said as outrage filled her. She should have known better than to follow through with their meeting once Sophie had confirmed Miss Whitmore’s secret.
“It was hard to miss her hand sliding up my leg.”
“She did that? Where anyone might notice?”
“Oh yes. Her skirts hid her hand’s gentle caress,” he added in a husky tone.
“And I suppose you did nothing to stop her?” She folded her arms across her chest.
“If I had, people might have noticed.”
Why did the idea of Miss Whitmore touching Matthew make her heart sink deep into her chest? She didn’t want Miss Whitmore to lay a hand on him in any manner.
“Of course,” she replied.
“Now that we know Miss Whitmore won’t suit, who is next?” he asked lightly.
Next? She hadn’t even thought of whom else she could ask. She’d pinned her hopes on Miss Sheldon and Miss Whitmore. “I will let you know soon,” she finally answered.
A soft chuckle erupted from him. “You do not have any ideas of who will be next, do you?”
“No.” She released a pent-up sigh. “I thought more women would be interested in your title than your reputation.”
“And now I believe you fully understand my predicament.”
“I always did,” she mumbled softly. There had never been one doubt about society’s reaction to John’s death. And she had been such a bloody coward to let Matthew take the responsibility.
He glanced out the window quickly. “I shall take my leave now,” he said, knocking on the carriage to gain the driver’s attention. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, he reached for the handle. “Please let me know if you have any other women for me to meet. Or the date you would like to be wed.”
Before she could sputter an answer, he jumped down and closed the door behind him. Bloody arrogant man! She would show him. She would find him the most perfect woman.
Watching him, she wondered what he was about at this hour. He walked into an establishment and her heart sank. A gaming hell. He really was a gambler like his father.
The next morning Jennette sat at her desk in her bedroom compiling a list of possible brides for him. After much consideration, she’d decided on three more women. Each lady met his specific requirements and she hoped they would acquiesce to a meeting.
Having completed her list, she picked up her charcoal and let her imagination run free. Her hand deftly formed the image in her mind. Lips, hard and yet velvety soft, not too full but not too thin. A jaw that showed stubbornness and compassion.
“Interesting drawing, my dear girl.”
Jennette started and looked up to see her mother staring at the sketch that consisted of only lips and a jaw. “Mother, what are you about this morning sneaking in and give me a fright?”
Her mother pulled up a chair closer to Jennette and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. Oh dear, she knew that expression.
“I am a tad worried about you, Jennette.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, you haven’t been your usual self. You seem distracted lately, as if you have something on your mind and can’t speak of it.” She glanced down at the paper again. “Perhaps you are considering a man?”
“No, Mother.” Jennette swept the paper under her pile and placed her folded hands on top. “I believe you are mistaken. I have been preoccupied with a favor to a friend, that is all.”
“So I have heard.”
Jennette’s eyes widened. “You have?”
“Banning told me all about the uninvited guest at your birthday ball. Would those lips you have concealed be his, perhaps?” Her mother gave her a knowing look.
“No,” Jennette replied far too quickly.
“There are far worse men in the ton than Lord Blackburn,” her mother said softly. “Far worse.”
Jennette knew she had to pretend outrage or no one would ever believe her. She scraped back the chair and stood. “I cannot believe you think I might have an affection toward that man. It is nothing of the sort.”
“Sit down, Jennette,” her mother ordered. “I of all people know not to believe that feigned anger. You, John, and Blackburn were very close. While you chose John, that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have felt something—”
“Mother, I did not have feelings for Blackburn.”
Her mother eyed her carefully before tilting her head in a quick nod. “Very well.”
Slowly, she returned to her seat and stared at the papers on her desk. “Mama, when did you know you had fallen in love with Papa?”
“Oh dear,” her mother whispered. “Well, most people wouldn’t believe it, but I knew almost from the start. It made no sense. Then again, when does love ever make sense? He was so much older than I. And yet, I knew the first time I danced with him that I would be his wife.”
“Were you a—attracted to him physically?” Jennette whispered.
“Very much so.”
She looked up into eyes as blue as hers. “Do you think you can be physically attracted to a man without loving him?”
Her mother patted her hand softly. “Unfortunately, I do think it is very possible. But it doesn’t mean we must act on those feelings, my dear.”
“I understand that, Mother. I’m just so confused where he is concerned. I do not love him. I don’t. But…,” her voice trailed off as she stared out the window seeing nothing but the image of Matthew in her head. The look of desperation in his eyes when he talked about his finances. The look of desire when he kissed her.
“But when he looks at you your insides turn to mush. You feel a certain stab of something undefined in your belly.”
“Yes!”
Her mother shook her head. “Lust,” she whispered.
Jennette leaned in closer to her. “Lust? I thought only men had those feelings.”
“Unfortunately, no. And that is why so many widows have their reputations ruined.”
“I don’t want to be lusting after him.”
“We don’t always get much choice in the matter. It all comes down to how we act.”
Jennette’s eyes shot open. “You don’t believe I would act upon these feelings, do you?”
Her mother smiled at her. “No, my dear. You never did so with John, why would you now?”
Jennette nodded. But the only reason she had never followed through on her feelings for John was that she never had these strange sensations with him. His kisses were sweet, not hot with passion. Even then, her thoughts had been on how Matthew’s kisses would feel. But telling her mother that would only cause her to worry needlessly.
Jennette had no intention of acting upon her feelings for Matthew. Even if his kisses created sensations she’d only previously encountered in her dreams. She would find him a wife and then she would be free of her past and could live in Florence.
Only every time she thought of Florence her heart sank. She truly never wished to leave. But she couldn’t stay. Matthew had given her five years of peace to enjoy life and gain her inheritance. He’d left Society for her. It was his turn to be happy.
At least that had been her plan. Seeing how Society scorned him, she doubted if her leaving would have any impact unless she told everyone the truth before she left. Doing that would mean never returning because there would certainly be another inquest. And she’d lied during the first one.
“Jennette?”
She glanced over to see her mother staring at her with a frown. “I’m sorry. I was woolgathering.”
“So I noticed. I called your name three times.”
“Oh,” Jennette replied as heat crossed her cheeks.
“I was wondering if you think Blackburn is using this marriage idea as an attempt to court you.”
“Court me? For what purpose?”
One dark eyebrow rose. “Shall I count the reasons? Money, status, reputation, not to mention you are a beautiful woman.”
Jennette waved a hand in dismissal at her mother. The idea of Matthew coming to call on her was the stuff of dreams. Maybe five years ago, he could have courted her. But not now.
“You’re being absurd, Mother. After all the rumors of him k—killing John because he actually loved me? The gossips would cut him dead.”
“Perhaps,” her mother drawled. “Still, remember what I said, there are far worse men who might have an interest in you.”
Matthew finished packing the few items he would need for a weeklong trip to Lord Aston’s estate in Surrey. As he placed a cravat into his bag, he wondered exactly how Jennette had managed this coup. Lord Aston was a very high-ranking member of Society. If everything went well this week, Matthew’s reputation would be raised a notch or two just for attending.
He supposed Jennette would have a group of women to introduce to him. While that had been his desire only days ago, since kissing her he now doubted any other woman would satisfy him.
He wanted her.
But every time he thought about how much he desired her, his guilt slammed into him again. If only he’d never told her how he felt that morning. If only he hadn’t kissed her that morning. If only John had kept his damned cock out of every other woman. Matthew would never have spoken to Jennette if he’d thought John could make her happy.
Damn. He was in a bloody mess. Marrying her was out of the question. She would never have him as a husband. There would always be John’s death between them, an invisible wedge driving them apart.
“Bloody hell man, aren’t you ready yet?”
Matthew turned to see Somerton standing at the threshold to his bedroom. “I had to let my valet go so I’m stuck packing things up.”
“So I see. I take it you let the butler go, too? I let myself in. Anyone might walk in and steal from you.”
Matthew laughed harshly. “What exactly would they take?” he asked, sweeping his arm throughout the stark room.
“Hmm, I see your point.”
“Welcome to the world of the poor nobility,” Matthew said sarcastically.
“Not for long.” A slow grin raised Somerton’s lips upward. “I have a feeling this week something special is about to happen.”
“Maybe for you, but I doubt anything interesting is in store for me.”
“Oh, it will be interesting for me. Lady Mary Greenly will be attending. That is a widow who truly misses her husband. Or at least one part of him.”
“Well, enjoy.”
Somerton shook his head. “You only have a few weeks left. This week will bring you something fortuitous.”
“We shall see.”
“Shall we depart?”
Matthew nodded, thankful for Somerton’s offer to ride with him. Only Somerton knew the true extent of the appalling state of his finances. The gambling debts had forced Matthew to sell all but one of his horses and let go of all the servants except one cook.
“Has Lady Jennette created a list of eligible ladies attending this party?” Somerton asked as he grabbed the valise on the bed.
“I haven’t spoken to her in two days. The only word I received was to make certain I attended this function.”
Somerton chuckled. “Have you rendered her speechless? I didn’t think that was possible.”
Matthew suppressed a laugh. “No one would be able to manage that feat. She will express her opinion no matter what the consequence.”
“And yet, it saves one the necessity of attempting to discover what lies in a woman’s mind.”
Matthew grabbed the handrail as they walked down the cracked marble stairs. Reaching the bottom, he wiped his hands on a handkerchief to remove the dust.
“You haven’t told me how exactly you were invited to this soiree. Or have you decided to sneak in as you usually do?” Matthew remarked as he locked the door behind him.
“Quite odd, indeed. Two days ago, the invitation arrived at my doorstep. Perhaps Lady Jennette thought you might want some disreputable company.”
Matthew frowned. “But how did she arrange such a thing?”
Somerton laughed as the coach door closed behind them. “Lady Elizabeth, of course.”
“Oh?”
“Lady Aston is Lady Elizabeth’s sister.”
Now everything made sense. Yet, he still wondered why Jennette hadn’t added Lady Elizabeth to the list of eligible ladies. She was the daughter of a duke so it stood to reason she had a large dowry. Even with her flaming red hair and freckles sprinkling her nose, she was an attractive woman.
Perhaps he should ask Jennette about her.
“Have you heard anything more about Blackburn?” Vanessa stroked her lover’s chest with her long fingernails. Baron Huntley was a handsome devil, but not the brightest. He would make the perfect pawn should she need him.
“I saw him at Lady Elizabeth’s literary salon.” Huntley skimmed his hand up her bare back.
“Oh?”
“Hmm,” he said, nipping her shoulder. “Miss Whitmore was all but climbing on his lap, making a complete spectacle of herself. But I know for fact what a little strumpet that gal is.”
“Do you now.” Vanessa shrugged her shoulder to get him to remove his wet lips.
“Never met an easier girl.” He looked up at her with his hazel eyes flashing. “I had her at the Easton’s ball. Right in the butler’s pantry. Definitely wasn’t the first man in that girl either.”
Perfect, Vanessa thought with a smile. Once little Miss Whitmore married Matthew, he would discover exactly what he’d wedded and come running back to her. While she wouldn’t get marriage, Matthew would keep her in
gowns and a nice house. It wasn’t what she wanted but Vanessa had always been a logical woman. Getting him back into her bed would have to do.
“Quite sure Blackburn saw right through her,” Huntley continued.
Vanessa stiffened. “Oh? Why would you say that?”
“Couldn’t help but notice him go into the billiard room and Lady Jennette follow him a few moments later.” Huntley lowered his head toward her breast, but she pushed him off.
“Lady Jennette Selby?”
“Yes. The earl’s sister.”
“I know exactly who she is. What I want to know is why did she enter the billiard room when Blackburn was there?”
Huntley shrugged and then slobbered a kiss on her neck. “Don’t know. Heard a rumor she’s helping him with something. Starting to cause some talk after what he did to her betrothed and all.”
Panic flickered through her. Matthew had loved Lady Jennette whether he admitted it or not. He’d told her of his attraction to Jennette but Vanessa knew he’d loved Lady Jennette.
There was only one thing Lady Jennette could be helping Matthew with—marriage. Vanessa’s mind whirled with the possibilities. Why would Matthew let Jennette help him? Perhaps it was her idea. A way to keep him from revealing the truth about her.
But Jennette was the type of woman who could make any man fall in love with her. And Vanessa would never let Matthew fall for Jennette’s charms again. Vanessa could accept Matthew marrying, but she knew he would never return to her if he loved his wife. And he would love Jennette.
There had to be a way to stop them.
Vanessa pulled Huntley closer until his chest brushed against her taut nipples. He groaned as her hand reached for his erection.
“Huntley darling,” she whispered, drawing her fingernails up his shaft.
“What?” he growled.
“I have a favor to ask of you.” Vanessa circled her hand around the head of his penis, then stroked downward.
Every Time We Kiss Page 8
