She tasted like honey and brandy. And he wanted to drown in the sensations.
Brandy.
The alcohol caused this reaction in her. She was in love with Ancroft, not him. Just as she’d been in love with John. He suddenly felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him. Grasping her shoulders, he pushed her away.
She had admitted she was in love with another man.
Again.
Chapter 10
As Jennette drank her tea the next morning, nursing a pounding headache, she thought about what she’d done the previous night. While she had done some impulsive things in the past, walking into an unmarried man’s bedchamber, more than a little drunk, was unconscionable. But it didn’t explain why he kissed her…again.
And that second kiss was even more delicious than the first. Tingling, warm sensations had spread throughout her body as his mouth devoured hers. Every part of her had seemed over-sensitized. When he pressed his hand to her breast, she thought she might faint from the pleasure. Just remembering it sent moist heat to a region she shouldn’t be thinking about now.
But she couldn’t stop her mind from wondering what it would be like to make love with him. To have his thick shaft enter her, filling her, sending her over the edge of desire. She shifted in her seat, thankful most of the party had gone hunting. Her mind wandered back to the image of his hand stroking her and his mouth sucking her nipples.
She pressed her legs tightly together hoping the urge to touch there would go away. The throbbing only worsened. She wanted him there, touching her, stroking her.
“Jennette, are you unwell?”
Jennette blinked her eyes open to see Avis staring at her. Heat scorched her cheeks as her friend and sister-in-law took a seat in the morning room.
“I—I’m all right.”
“You don’t look all right. In fact, you look very flustered, as if I caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing.” Avis smiled. “So what naughty thing were you thinking about?”
“Naughty?”
Avis smirked and nodded. “Judging from the look on your face…very naughty.”
“N—nothing,” she mumbled. “I was thinking about…the ball tomorrow night. And what I shall wear.”
“Of course,” Avis said, picking up a teacup. “I’m certain gowns were definitely on your mind.”
“It’s true!”
“Jennette, I have known you for far too long. The look on your face was positively…oh my,” Avis said wide-eyed. “Who is it?”
“Who is what?”
“The man you were thinking of?”
“I was not thinking about any man!” She scraped back her chair and stood.
“Sit down, Jennette.” Avis motioned for her to sit. “It’s not like I haven’t been in your situation.”
“It’s not the same, Avis.”
Avis only chuckled. “Of course not. It’s you so it is different.”
“Stop that,” Jennette complained. “You are imagining everything. Just because you fell into bed with my brother doesn’t mean everyone else does the same.”
“Perhaps not. However, there is nothing to say you can’t have feelings for a—Oh my God, it’s Blackburn, isn’t it?”
“Of course not!” she lied frantically. The last thing she needed was her sister-in-law going to Banning with this news.
Avis sat back and tilted her head. “Oh, it is.”
Jennette dropped her head into her hands. “Avis, you cannot tell Banning.”
Avis was quickly there next to her, pulling her up. “We can’t discuss anything this private in the morning room. Let’s go to the greenhouse.”
They walked down the hall until they came to the door. Stealthily, they left the house and raced for the greenhouse. After a quick check to make sure no servants were about, Avis pushed Jennette onto an iron bench by the orange trees.
“Now tell me,” her friend demanded.
“I can’t make you keep secrets from Banning.”
“Jennette, you were my friend long before I married your brother. I will always keep your secrets safe.”
Jennette closed her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Thinking about him in what manner?”
Jennette blinked and stared at her friend. “How do you think?”
“Oh my,” Avis whispered. “I have been in that situation. It’s most frustrating.”
“But you did something about it. I most certainly cannot take him as my lover.”
Avis paced the pathway with her finger over her lips. “No, I don’t suppose you can. However, you could take another man—”
“Avis! I could never do such a thing.”
“No?” she replied coyly. “That is very telling, Jennette. If Blackburn killed John accidentally, what is stopping you from being with him?”
Jennette stared down at her jonquil morning dress. She longed to tell Avis the truth. Finally free herself of this overwhelming burden. But she couldn’t. The truth was far too ugly.
There had to be a good reason she couldn’t take him as a lover, other than the obvious, that it was against her upraising.
“I am leaving for Florence in a few weeks. It would be dreadfully wrong to make such a decision knowing I will be gone soon.”
Avis chuckled. “Indeed. Seems like the perfect time as long as you don’t wish to marry him.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No. I think you want him no matter what your past history and no other man will do. If you don’t do this, you will wonder for the rest of your life what it would have been like.”
Jennette shook her head. “I can’t believe you, Avis. You had the same virtuous upbringing I did and yet you stand before me all but daring me to have an affair with a man who killed my betrothed.”
“Sophie told you he was coming back into your life. There has to be a better reason than simply he wanted your help in finding a bride.”
“Sophie foresaw his coming,” Jennette replied. “That is all. She never said we would fall in love or become lovers or anything to do with love. Only that he was returning to my life.”
Avis laughed again. “Trust me, Sophie only tells people what she thinks they can handle at the time.”
Jennette stood and walked over to the small lime trees. She stroked a green leaf and whispered, “He’s kissed me twice.”
Avis halted by the row of orange trees. “And?”
“It was amazing. Like no kiss I’ve ever had before in my life. I didn’t want it to end.”
“I think you had better decide quickly if you plan to seduce him.”
There was nothing to think about regarding that idea. She knew she could never be with Matthew that way. Mary would be the perfect wife for him, Jennette couldn’t. She had promised her father she would never marry a gambler or fortune hunter, and Matthew was both. Mary would warm his bed every night. Jennette’s heart suddenly felt like someone stuck a knife into it.
“I will never be with him that way, Avis.”
Miss Marston wrapped her arm with Matthew’s as they walked through the dying garden. The wind whipped around them, chilling him and most likely her as well. They should have stayed inside by the fire and played cards.
“Tell me about your estates,” she said, tying her bonnet a little tighter. She glanced back and smiled at her maid who’d accompanied them.
“I have only two, plus the house in town.”
“Are they large?”
“Good sized, though not as large as other peers’.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Do you have many servants?”
Matthew blew out a breath trying to determine the best answer for that question. “The estates are made to each have about twenty servants and fewer than ten in town.”
He looked over to see her frown in concentration. She was the daughter of a banker and perhaps she’d never imagined managing such a large household. He would expect her to be able to assist him in hi
ring the servants. Jennette would know exactly what he needed to run several estates, which made her perfectly suited to marry a future duke. Nicholas would treat her well.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?
Damned lust.
Miss Marston had all the qualifications he needed for a wife. And anything she didn’t know she could learn from either him or a friend. He sighed as they reached the dying rose garden. If only he felt a spark of attraction for her. Not that it mattered. She was pretty enough. He’d manage to do his duty and produce an heir.
Not that the feelings would be the same as with Jennette—the rush of excitement that raced up his limbs when she was near.
As they turned the corner, the object of his incessant desire sat on a bench with a sketch pad on her lap and a charcoal stick in her hands. She looked up as they approached. He couldn’t determine the flash that sparkled in her blue eyes. At first, he thought she appeared quite displeased but then her full lips tilted upward. Quickly she shuffled the papers on her lap.
“Miss Marston and Lord Blackburn, what a pleasant surprise,” she said. Hastily she placed a blank page in front of her drawing.
“Oh Lady Jennette, are you sketching?” Miss Marston asked quickly. “I love to draw but am horrid at it. I have heard you have quite the artistic talent.”
“Greatly exaggerated, I’m certain.”
Matthew doubted that. He’d also heard of her talent but had never seen any of her work. “Might we take a look at what you’ve been drawing?”
Her cheeks tinted pink. “No. It’s not completed and I never show anyone my work until I’m finished.”
“Please,” Miss Marston begged prettily.
“No,” Jennette replied in a harsher tone. “If you would like I could sketch you both.”
Matthew cleared his throat and smiled. “I think you are being a bit premature.”
“Oh?” she said with a devious grin.
God, he wanted to kiss that grin off her face. “But a drawing of Miss Marston would be lovely.”
“Really!” Miss Marston exclaimed.
“I would be happy to do so.” Jennette picked up her pad and looked around. “I think you would look best by the holly bush over there,” she said, pointing to a small bench by the bush.
Miss Marston raced to the bench, untied her bonnet, and let it fall to her back. Tendrils of blond hair whipped around her face. “How is this?”
“Perfect,” Matthew said before Jennette could refuse her.
“Why don’t you go over there?” Jennette said as she inclined her head to another bench.
“I prefer to be here,” he whispered, “watching you.”
Her hands shook as she picked up her charcoal stick and glanced over at Miss Marston. Keeping her voice low, she said, “I must apologize.”
“Indeed?”
“I should never have entered your room last night.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. Although, I suppose I should have been more polite and invited you to stay.”
Her head turned toward him with a blush of embarrassment coloring her high cheeks. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” he replied in a husky tone. “I should have invited you to stay. Although, I don’t usually seduce intoxicated women.”
“I most certainly was not drunk,” she exclaimed.
“How is your head feeling this afternoon?” Watching the color on her face brighten, he smiled.
“Do be quiet so I can concentrate.”
She turned her attention back to Miss Marston. Her charcoal pencil skipped across the page with amazing results. As he watched, Miss Marston’s features appeared on the paper, first her round eyes then the upward-tilted nose and thin lips.
“If you want me, you know the price.”
Her hand stopped sketching the strands of Miss Marston’s hair. “I didn’t realize you were for hire, Blackburn.”
Matthew chuckled softly. “Only for you.”
“Why?”
“You know why. We’ve kissed twice and both times were amazing.”
Jennette shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. Besides, I thought you determined I was in love with Ancroft.”
“Are you?” he whispered, not really wanting to know the answer.
“I have loved Nicholas for years.”
Why couldn’t he let this go? She’d admitted her love for Ancroft. He should stop this conversation. And yet, he couldn’t help but ask, “Why haven’t you married him, then?”
“Perhaps he never asked me.”
“Are you done yet, Lady Jennette?” Miss Marston shouted from her bench.
“Almost,” Jennette answered. Her hand returned to the duty of sketching.
“Did you love him when you agreed to marry John?”
“Yes,” she confessed without hesitation.
“So you garnered the attention of three men but only ever loved one.” He looked over to Mary. “Miss Marston, I believe we should return to the house,” he said stiffly.
“Is it finished?” Miss Marston stood and walked toward them.
“Yes, this is finished,” Jennette replied, staring at Matthew.
Miss Marston walked quickly to them. Jennette handed the paper to Miss Marston.
Miss Marston stared with her mouth open. “I—I can’t believe how you made me appear.”
Matthew grabbed the paper out of her hand. He glanced down at the sketch. Jennette had captured Miss Marston’s quiet beauty in a remarkable manner.
“It is so lovely, Lady Jennette. I can’t thank you enough,” Miss Marston said.
“Perhaps you should give it to Lord Blackburn as a keepsake,” Jennette commented.
Miss Marston leaned in closer to Jennette. “It seems a little forward to me.”
“Nonsense.”
Miss Marston turned toward him with a shy smile. “Would you like to keep it, my lord?”
Matthew felt a mix of emotions warring through his head. While he wanted to keep it as a memento of Jennette’s talent, he knew he should want it as a sketch of the woman who just might become his bride.
“I would love to keep it,” he muttered.
Miss Marston shivered as she tied her bonnet under her chin. “My goodness, it is becoming quite cool.”
“We should return to the house. Lady Aston has a luncheon planned once everyone gets back from the hunt.” Matthew pulled his greatcoat closer.
“Lady Jennette, will you accompany us?” Miss Marston asked.
Jennette let out a small sigh as she looked down at her dirty hands. “I suppose I should change before the luncheon.”
“Lord Blackburn, you must help Lady Jennette with her things.”
Matthew nodded. “Of course.”
“I do not need any assistance,” Jennette said hurriedly. She shuffled her papers and placed her charcoal pencil into a small box. “You two should go on. I will be along in a moment.”
Miss Marston started to walk the garden path but something held Matthew immobile.
“Go on,” Jennette insisted.
“Let me help you.”
He reached for her stack of papers but she held them tightly against her chest.
“N—no,” she stammered. “Go ahead without me.”
He had no idea what could be making her appear so nervous. It finally dawned on him. She must be expecting Ancroft and wanted to be alone with him.
She leaned down to pick up her pencil case as a swift gust of wind whipped around them. Several of the papers she’d been holding blew out of her grasp.
“Oh no,” she exclaimed, doing her best to step on them before they were picked up again by the wind.
“Here,” he said, reaching for some.
“No! Don’t touch them!”
Ignoring her, he grabbed the closest papers. Turning them over, he gasped.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
He stared down at the sketch of his face looking back at him. “When did you…?”
�
�Give it back to me,” she nearly shouted.
Instead of responding, he stared at her, raising one eyebrow in question.
“It was nothing,” she said. “Just something to pass the time.”
“Of course.” Pleasure coursed through his body with the thought that, of all the people she might have sketched out here alone, she chose him.
In that brief moment, he knew she was as affected by him as he was by her. And he’d never felt so conflicted in all his life. Just down the path stood a woman obviously pleased that he’d chosen to court her. While directly in front of him stood a woman who appeared to have no interest in marriage to him, but fascinated him for all the wrong reasons. He handed the sketch to Jennette and turned toward Mary.
He knew in what direction he was headed.
Chapter 11
She was a complete and utter idiot, Jennette thought as she followed behind Mary and Matthew. How foolish could she be? How could she have dropped those papers in front of him? The only consolation was the fact that he’d only seen the two sketches of his face. She still held the other two next to her chest. Once she reached the house, she would burn them before anyone noticed them.
What was she thinking, drawing him as she imagined he would appear without clothes? Anyone might have come upon her and seen the pictures. But after her conversation with Avis this morning, she’d been unable to think of anything else, save him. Matthew with his cold gray eyes that warmed like coal embers when he kissed her.
Having only felt his shoulders and chest, she really had no idea exactly what he might look like without clothes. But she’d done her best to capture her image of him based on statues she’d seen at the British Museum. However, never having seen one of the more interesting parts of his body, she’d given him the obligatory fig leaf.
She shook her head, angry with herself for letting her imagination take over, and frustrated with him as he walked quietly in front of her with Mary Marston. Why had he baited her when they were all but in front of Mary? Though Mary seemed beyond hearing distance, she still might have overheard something scandalous.
His comments about inviting her to stay in his room still sent a shiver down her back. Had he asked last night, Jennette wondered how she would have replied. In her slightly intoxicated state, she might have agreed.
Every Time We Kiss Page 11
