As he rose, Jennette couldn’t help but notice the gleam of appreciation in his eyes as he took in Mary’s appearance. She was everything he’d requested and more. A full bosom, slender waist and hips, plus blond hair and she barely reached his shoulders.
And she had no scandals in her background.
The roiling in her stomach told her that Mary was perfect for him.
Chapter 9
Matthew smiled at the young woman looking up at him. Mary Marston had every quality he’d asked Jennette for except possibly the right age. She couldn’t be more than nineteen. Her innocence radiated from her like a beam from a lighthouse. Perhaps she was just the woman who could help him.
“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked.
She nodded with wide eyes. “Oh yes.”
“It’s almost time for dinner,” Jennette commented. “Lord Blackburn, perhaps you would like to accompany Miss Marston to the dining room?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He held out his arm for Miss Marston.
Miss Marston sent him a shaky smile then linked arms with him. There was no spark of energy as there was with Jennette. Instead, the light contact felt comforting, warm, and far more like that of a sister than a potential bride.
As they walked into the room, he said, “Tell me more about yourself, Miss Marston.”
She giggled slightly. “There is nothing much to tell. I’m eighteen and completed my first Season this past year.”
“What type of hobbies do you enjoy?”
“Hobbies?” she asked with a frown.
They reached their seats, conveniently located next to each other. He pulled out the heavy mahogany chair for her. After they had taken their seats and greeted the others around them, he attempted to discover more about her again.
“I believe we were discussing hobbies. Do you paint? Perhaps a musical instrument is your passion?”
“I have to admit to not having an ounce of talent when it comes to painting. I can carry a tune but that seems to be the extent of my talents.”
Remembering his mother’s love of books, he thought that might be where her interests lie. “Do you enjoy reading?”
A slight blush tinted her cheeks. “Some.”
“Oh?” He leaned slightly toward her. “What type of books do you enjoy?”
“Nothing of any literary importance.”
Then he understood what she meant. She enjoyed the inexpensive novels of the day.
“Where are your parents?”
“They had another commitment with my older sister, Anne. They will arrive in two days. My aunt brought me here but she was feeling ill so she requested a tray in her room.”
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. So far, Miss Marston had no qualms about him. Maybe after two days, they would be so enamored of each other her parents would gladly consent to marriage. Although, in truth, he doubted he would be utterly in love with her. She seemed likable enough and he supposed marriage would be tolerable, but it wasn’t what he’d hoped for in a union. But he couldn’t be particular.
And perhaps if he continued to tell himself this, he would start to believe it. Miss Mary Marston would do for him. She would have to because his options were running out.
A footman placed a plateful of food in front of him. Once the footmen served everyone, Matthew attacked the ham. The meat seared his tongue with the most delectable flavors. While he’d kept his cook, there wasn’t much money to buy anything decent. His gaze roamed to Jennette. He watched as a forkful of potatoes gratin entered her mouth. She chewed her food slowly as if savoring the bite.
She turned toward her brother and laughed softly at something he’d said. Her blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight. The woman was beyond lovely. The sapphire gown she wore matched her eyes perfectly. The low-cut bodice showed just a hint of her small, rounded breasts.
He closed his eyes briefly and imagined himself lowering the sleeves of her gown, tugging down the bodice over her breasts, and untying the laces of her stays. Then he could scrape the cotton of her shift over her rosy nipples, exposing them to his hungry gaze.
“Lord Blackburn?”
Matthew’s eyes blinked open at the sound of Miss Marston’s voice.
“Yes?”
“Are you all right? You had your eyes closed for several minutes.”
“I am quite well, thank you. I was just thinking about someone—something,” he corrected himself quickly.
He glanced back down the table at Jennette for a moment. He had to get past this mad infatuation with her. Miss Marston was everything he needed in a wife.
And yet, Jennette was everything he wanted.
He looked happy. The thought should have made Jennette glad, not burning with an emotion she refused to name. She’d done her duty and found him a woman he could marry. The last thing she should have been doing was blatantly staring at him, craving his kisses and his touch.
“You look perfectly miserable.”
Jennette tore her gaze away from the card table where Matthew and Mary sat playing whist. She looked up to see Nicholas, Banning’s dearest friend, smiling down at her.
“When did you get here?”
“Only a few minutes ago. I even missed dinner.”
“I’m sure Lady Aston won’t mind as long as she can crow about the Marquess of Ancroft, or should I say the future Duke of Belford, attending her country ball,” Jennette said with a laugh.
“Yes, my cousin does love to boast about having a future duke in the family. I’ve already had five mothers stop me to tell me about their daughters.”
Jennette chuckled, happy to have an old friend to chat with. “Want to steal some brandy and talk?”
“Nothing would please me more.”
“Meet me on the terrace in ten minutes,” she whispered.
“If someone catches us you’ll be forced to marry me,” he said, teasing her with a positively evil grin.
“Somehow I doubt Banning would force that,” she said with a laugh.
“He knows better than that.”
“I’ll get the brandy.”
Before he could reply, she walked to her mother and explained what she was doing.
Her mother’s brows furrowed with concern. “Be careful, Jennette. I know I have nothing to fear with Nicholas but not everyone would understand your friendship.”
“I understand.”
“Go along, then.”
Jennette strolled down the hallway until she found the earl’s study. She peeked inside the room. Seeing no one, she pilfered the brandy and the snifters before continuing on to the terrace.
The cool day had turned into a cold night. She wrapped her shawl around her knowing it wouldn’t keep the blustery wind from her.
“Would you like my coat?”
Jennette nodded. “Do you mind?”
Nicholas shook his head. “Not at all. Banning would have my head if I let you freeze out here.”
“Please sit with me.” Jennette patted the seat on the bench next to her.
“It’s one thing if someone catches us out here and I’m over here. It’s another if we’re caught sitting together.”
“Hang them all. I want to sit next to my friend and if people cannot understand that they can go to the devil,” she replied.
He laughed softly. “I’ve always admired your spirit, Jennette.”
If only she felt as if she had some spirit left in her. “Nick, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking the seat to her right.
“I’m so confused.”
“And you haven’t spoken to your friends about the matter?” he asked with a frown. “That’s not like you.”
Jennette shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“Does this concern a man?”
“Yes.”
“Who?” he asked softly as if to encourage her.
She leaned her head back and sighed. “Blackburn.”
“I had a feeling.”
She whippe
d her head toward him. “Why in the world would you assume him?”
His smile deepened before he took a long drink of brandy. After putting his glass down, he answered her. “I couldn’t help but notice where your gaze was focused tonight.”
“I—I—”
“Stop sputtering, Jennette. Banning came to me and asked me about Blackburn. Your brother told me what you were up to.”
“It doesn’t matter any longer. I think I found him the perfect woman.” A woman who met his every desire. A woman who was nothing like herself.
“Well then,” he drawled, “that should make you very happy.”
Jennette nodded and lifted the brandy snifter to her lips. She swallowed down too much and coughed. After taking another smaller sip, she answered him.
“I’m very happy for him. I just hope her parents will agree to a marriage.”
“Liar,” he whispered harshly. “It’s eating you up inside to see him with another woman.”
Jennette refused to take the bait. Nicholas could infuriate her as quickly as Banning. After spending most summers and holidays with her family when Nick was young, they grew up like brother and sister. A very annoying brother.
“Admit it, Jen.”
“No. I do not want him.” She paused, staring out into the dark garden. “I cannot want him,” she whispered.
“Why?” he insisted softly.
“I just cannot.”
Jennette finished her brandy and poured herself more. How she wished the brandy would go to her head so she could blame this conversation on intoxication.
“You know he didn’t kill John on purpose. So why can’t you want him?” Nick questioned again.
“What would people think?”
“Why do you care? People will talk whether someone is in the right or not.”
“I can’t damage my family’s reputation. Banning did enough harm with his courtship of Avis and the duel that ensued.”
Nicholas laughed. “It’s been over two months since that happened and no one seems to care.”
“I care. My mother cares.”
“Why?”
Jennette drained her second glass of brandy. “Because I promised my father I would never do anything to hurt my family’s name. Or marry a gambler or a fortune hunter.”
He blew out a long sigh then pulled her close. “So you made this promise at his deathbed?”
She nodded as tears welled in her eyes. “Nick, it was only a month after the accident with John. My father begged me to be more careful. He didn’t want my mother’s name ruined because of something I did. He didn’t want me to make a mistake with another man.”
“Your father would have only wanted your happiness,” he whispered.
Jennette blinked, trying to keep from crying. “How can you know what my father would have wanted?”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Your father was a great man, Jennette. He raised me more than my own father did. And you forget that I have a daughter. I would only want her to be happy. Scandal be damned as long as I knew Emma would find contentment with a good man.”
“Thank you.”
But Jennette knew that she couldn’t stop Matthew and Mary. They were both good people, even if Mary might be a little young. She would mature. They would make a lovely couple and have beautiful children. And Jennette would do as she had promised herself—leave him in peace.
“More brandy?” he asked.
“One more, I’m finally getting warm.”
“I’ve always admired your ability to drink, Jen. Not many women could manage three glasses of brandy.”
The slight buzzing in her mind told her that she probably should have refused the third snifter. But tonight she didn’t care. She had no plans to return to the party so no one would know if she was a bit tipsy.
She sipped her brandy as contentment spread throughout her. Nick still had his arm around her, keeping her warm and safe. It was a damned shame she didn’t feel anything but sisterly affection for him. He would make some woman a wonderful husband.
The sound of someone clearing his throat broke them apart.
“Matthew!”
Nicholas chuckled softly beside her. “I believe we’ve been caught.”
“Do be quiet,” she replied.
“Ancroft, you should know better than to take a woman of quality out on a deserted terrace. Anyone might have come upon you.”
“Like you, perhaps,” Nick replied with a chuckle.
The sound of his laugh made her giggle, or perhaps it was the brandy.
“Should I get your brother, Lady Jennette?” Matthew asked stiffly.
Jennette’s irritation grew with his pompous behavior. “There is no reason for that.”
Nicholas stood up and removed his coat from her shoulders. She knew how damning this looked but didn’t care. Nick was her friend and no one would disparage him in front of her.
“Good night, Jen.” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
She slapped his shoulder. “Good night, Nicky.”
He winked at her and left her on the terrace alone with the man she desired. She was quite tipsy. This was more than trouble. She should leave now before anyone discovered them out here.
“What the devil were you doing out here with him, Jennette?”
“Drinking brandy,” she said, noting her words only slightly slurred.
“Good God, you’re drunk!”
“Not terribly,” she commented flatly.
“Not terribly? You let that scoundrel bring you out here alone and get you drunk. Anything might have happened if I hadn’t come upon you both.”
Jennette leaned back and looked up at him. “With Nicky?”
“The man has a bastard.”
She rose in a quick motion, then grabbed the balustrade for support. “He has a daughter. She is a beautiful little girl whom he is raising because her mother wanted nothing to do with her.”
“That has nothing to do with this,” he growled.
She watched as his face changed, the look of anger replaced with acceptance.
“He’s the reason you refused to marry me, isn’t he?”
“Nicholas? Of course not.”
“Indeed? I saw the look on both your faces. You love each other.”
Jennette blinked, trying to muddle through his logic. “Of course we do.”
“Very well, then. Good night.” He turned on his heel and strode from the terrace before she could explain.
“Oh, bloody stupid man.”
Matthew walked to his room and then slammed the door behind him. He wanted to throw something to ease his anger, but everything in the room looked too expensive to replace. Instead, he dropped to his bed.
Anger and jealousy raged through him.
He should have realized that she rejected his proposal because of another man. It had nothing to do with guilty feelings over John. Once again, she loved another man. Nothing would ever change.
She would never love him.
It all made sense now. So why hadn’t she married Ancroft yet? Perhaps Selby felt Ancroft’s past wasn’t acceptable for his sister.
Closing his eyes, he could picture them together on the terrace. Ancroft’s arm around her shoulder as if he had the right to touch her. Matthew’s fists clenched. The man had no right to touch her, to comfort her.
Then again, neither did he. No matter how much he desired to be there for her, to have his arm around her. He yanked off his jacket and flung it across the room. This line of thought was mad.
He would focus all his attention on Mary Marston.
Suddenly the door to his room swung open. Jennette stumbled over the threshold and slammed the door shut.
“So that’s it?” she demanded.
“What the bloody hell are you doing in my room?” The woman had no sense at all. “First you’re out on the terrace alone with Ancroft and now you stumble into my room drunk. Do you have any idea how you look?”
Unfortunately for him, he’d taken full notice of exactly how she’d looked—ready for a man to strip off her clothes and make love to her all night. His cock thickened as he thought about how he longed to do that. He wanted to lay her down on the soft bed and plunge into her sweet depths. Watch her as she shook with passion. Kiss every part of her body.
“I don’t give a damn about how I look,” she cried. “You have no right to play my protector.”
“Isn’t that exactly what I’ve been for the past five years?” he muttered.
She blanched. “You know nothing about my relationship with Nicholas.”
“Nor do I need to.” He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “Go to bed, Jennette.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “I don’t even know why I came here. I should have let Elizabeth do the introductions. Then I wouldn’t have had to watch.”
He knew she was mumbling in her drunken stupor but something made him question her. “Watch what?”
“You.”
He stopped mid-stride. She was watching him…and Miss Marston? “Why were you watching me, Jennette?” he whispered as he stepped closer to her.
“I can’t ever seem to stop myself,” she said, staring at the floor. Her eyes widened as if she realized how much she had revealed. She turned and grabbed for the doorknob.
His hand covered hers, stopping her from opening the door and letting anyone see them together. A powerful spark skipped up his arm. He knew he should let her go.
But he couldn’t.
Turning her back to face him, he brought his lips down on hers. The instant her tongue caressed his, he was lost. He couldn’t remember a woman ever affecting him as she did. The minute she was near, he wanted her in every wicked way possible. On the bed, up against the wall, anywhere he could drown in the sensual desire rushing through him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and wove her fingers through his hair. He brought his hand up to her breast and scraped his thumb over her silk covered nipple. As she gasped, he deepened the kiss, demanding everything she had to give him.
He wanted to rip every shred of clothing off her. Throbbing with unfulfilled need, he moved his lips to her neck. He found the soft spot where her pulse hammered against her throat. As she moaned softly, erotically, he moved back to her lips and tongue.
Every Time We Kiss Page 10
