by Lower, Becky
“And who do you think I’m meant to be with, Colleen?” Jasmine whispered.
“You know good and well ’tis Parr who ignites your passion. Not Alistair.”
Jasmine smoothed out the skirt of her gown. “Nonsense, Colleen. You’re just saying that because he’s a fellow Irishman.”
“No, lass. I’m saying it ’cause it’s the truth.”
“Well, regardless of what you say, Alistair is going to propose to me tonight. Papa as much as said so the other night. And after an appropriate show of surprise, I will accept gladly.” She turned from Colleen’s tears. “Now, do you think I should wear the diamonds this evening?” She held up a pair of long, dangly earrings, and viewed them as they framed her face. “I love my hair this way, Colleen.” She ran a hand over her locks, and down the sausage curls which draped over one shoulder. “My dark hair against the skin on my shoulders draws attention to my bosom, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think you need anything else to draw attention to your assets, me lovely. If you’ve got your mind set on Alistair, I guess I’ll have to accept it. Just be sure of yourself before you do something you’ll regret.”
“I’ll not regret it, never fear.” Jasmine affixed the earrings to her ears and waited for Colleen to secure the clasp of the matching necklace. Then she turned and took Colleen’s hands into her own. “Just think of it, by the end of this evening, I’ll be the future Viscountess of Foxborough!”
“A title won’t be keeping you warm at night, lass. Only the love of a good man will do that.”
“Alistair’s a good man. Please, Colleen, be happy for me.”
“Only if you will be, my wee sprite. And I canna help but think you’re not.”
Jasmine took one more look at herself in the full-length mirror. The diamonds caught the light, shooting off sparks in all directions, as did the thousands of glass beads on her gown. The peach was a good choice to enhance her coloring and she was as ready for this evening as she’d ever be. She closed her eyes for a final moment and a vision of a man with ice-blue eyes appeared. Her eyes popped open and she shook her head, causing even more sparks from the light. She should be thinking about her soon-to-be betrothed, not some untitled stable boy! She stomped her foot at her inability to control her wayward thoughts before she turned and exited the room, on her way to her future.
• • •
Alistair searched the relatively small ballroom for the one woman he desperately wanted to see. And it was not his companion for the evening, although Jasmine did look every bit the lovely princess tonight in her peach ball gown. It, and she, were beautiful, and he wondered if he was some kind of fool to even question his decision to delay their engagement. She did wonders for his confidence. After all, what man of thirty-seven didn’t want a nubile nineteen-year-old clinging on his arm?
He watched her as he scanned the room for the redhead that haunted his dreams. Other men, both single and attached, were buzzing around Jasmine, vying for her attention, and stealing glimpses of her bosom. Alistair should be jealous, and should go to her side and stake his claim, shooing all the other men away.
But he didn’t want to. Not yet. Not until he got to see Lydia, and could gauge his reaction to her. Just the thought of seeing her made his cock swell. Would she excite him in person as much as the memory of her did? Would she still be interested in him? After all, she’d left without so much as a backwards glance a few weeks ago. Was that a calculated ploy on her part to keep him interested? He wondered all these things as he scanned the room once again. Nothing yet.
Amanda Phillips, the woman for whom this party was held, had not been far from the side of Blake Morgan all evening. Alistair had little knowledge about either of them, but they were an attractive pair. He moved his gaze over them before a hint of red caught his eye. Lydia Smith had just entered the room. Alistair’s mouth salivated as he drank in the sight of her.
In contrast to Jasmine’s pale peach gown, Lydia wore a deep forest green dress, shot through with strands of bronze. Glamorous earrings of faceted bronze topaz adorned her ears, accompanied by a matching necklace. But the true jewel in the picture was the lady herself.
Paying no heed to the men who tried to catch her eye, she crossed the room with purpose and placed her hand on his arm. Then she reached up on her toes and kissed him quickly, on the mouth. Scandalous behavior to be sure. But no one gasped in surprise. This was Lydia, after all, and the rules of convention did not apply to her.
Alistair immediately became hard. His hand covered hers, still on his arm. “Hello, Lydia, and welcome back. You’re a sight for these sore eyes, to be sure.”
She gave him a saucy, pouty smile. His loins ached for her. “I hope I’m still welcome in your circle, Alistair.” She tapped his arm lightly with her fan. “Rumors were swirling, even in Virginia, that you were being a bad boy.” She nodded her head towards Jasmine, who was talking with Amanda.
Alistair placed his hand on her waist. “You’re the only person I want to be bad with, Lydia. Surely you know that. Shall we head to the balcony so I can give you a proper welcome?”
Alistair barely cleared the balcony doors before his hand moved from the small of Lydia’s back to her bottom. He crushed her to him, pulling her up against his erection. “Can you tell how much I’ve missed you?” He growled at her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her eyes.
Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, matching his own. He choked out a question. “How soon can we leave here without causing a scene?” His hand fondled the exposed portion of her breasts, and he leaned over and kissed the sensitive flesh. He took one breast in each hand and kissed her again.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Alistair?”
He smiled at her. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. How could I have forgotten to kiss the spot that drives you wild?” He leaned down and kissed the little spot just under her ear. She shuddered in his grasp. He became bolder. “Lydia, I’ve been going crazy without you. I can’t wait to strip you of these clothes and make love to you till all hours of the morning. I’ve been hard for you since your letter arrived this morning.”
She took a step back from him, and he had no choice but to release her breasts.
“What is it, Lydia?”
“Did you not arrive this evening with Miss Fitzpatrick? It would be unseemly if you left her here alone to find a way home.”
Alistair shook his head, to clear away his lust-filled thoughts. That’s right. Jasmine. Who was expecting a proposal this very evening. And here he was, fondling another woman only a room away from his intended. Christ.
He groaned as he followed Lydia’s movements when she tucked her breasts back into her gown and straightened her hair. Her lips were full and bruised from his kisses. And all he wanted to do was bruise them more. Maybe just one more taste of her ripeness before they returned to the ballroom. He backed her up against the wall, rubbing his cock against her core, eliciting a moan from her. He was about to swoop in for another scorching kiss when the ballroom erupted in applause.
• • •
Jasmine held hands with Amanda, who had been a ball of nerves all evening. “You are certainly excited about turning nineteen, aren’t you?”
“It’s not my birthday that is exciting. I think tonight might be the night,” Amanda whispered.
“I think so, too,” Jasmine whispered back with a bit of a squeal in her voice.
“Do you really think Blake will propose to me this evening?”
“What?” Jasmine blinked. “Oh, well, yes, of course I think he will. After all, it’s your night.” She gave Amanda’s hand another squeeze before she dropped it and scoured the room for Alistair, who was nowhere in sight. Where was the infernal man? And, since it was Amanda’s night, if Blake chose this evening to propose, it would mean Alistair would not, and her fine gown would be for naught.
Tears smarted at her eyes, but she smiled at her friend. “I’ll be so happy for you. And you must let me design your wedding gown.”
“Fingers crossed. He requested that I open his present first. Here I go.” Amanda gave Jasmine a hug before she moved to the side of the room where the presents were piled up. Blake joined her at the table with a smile on his face.
Oh, dear Lord, he’s going to make a spectacle of himself and propose to Amanda in front of everyone, rather than in private! And I’m standing here by myself, watching yet another friend be taken off the market. When will my turn come? And where is Alistair, anyway? Jasmine’s thoughts spun out of control as she listened to Amanda thank everyone for attending her birthday party.
Jasmine ran her hand down her dress, smoothing out the fabric, feeling the luxuriousness of the beadwork that Colleen had labored over for days. All for nothing. This was to be her engagement dress, damn it! She’d never be able to wear it again, since it was supposed to signify her last night as a single woman. Slowly, she inched around the room, searching in every corner for Alistair. Could he have taken himself to the necessary room just as Amanda was to begin opening her gifts? What poor planning. She walked past the partially open door to the balcony and caught a woman’s moan coming from the other side. And the scent of roses. Where had she smelled that perfume before?
Probably a couple locked in a heated embrace, she thought as she backed away quickly. How embarrassing would it be to walk in on them? Then again, it might be fun to peek.
She put her hand on the door handle, ready to open it just a tad and spy on the couple on the other side, just as the ballroom erupted in applause. Her skirt swished softly as she turned away from the door. There, in front of the mound of gifts was Blake Morgan, on one knee, professing his love for her best friend. Tears streamed down Amanda’s face as she nodded in the affirmative, pulled him up off his knee, and kissed him in front of everyone in the room. Jasmine quickly walked to Amanda’s side, to be among the first to offer her congratulations and to exclaim over the exquisiteness of the ring.
Once the accompanying hoopla over Amanda’s surprise engagement quieted down, Jasmine was at last able to find Alistair. He was in the midst of a discussion with her father. They broke off their conversation as she approached.
“Isn’t it wonderful news about Amanda and Blake?” She slipped her arm around Alistair’s.
“Yes, we were just discussing it. In fact, I think we should invite them to my place for an after-party drink. Your parents and you were planning on coming out anyway. What if we invite them?”
Jasmine’s gaze dropped to the floor. The nightcap at Alistair’s was originally scheduled to celebrate her engagement to him, not Amanda’s to Blake. She had put the pieces together, based on the broad hints her father dropped over the past couple of days. That’s why she was wearing her engagement dress, that’s why her level of excitement had been so high all evening, that’s why she kept losing track of Alistair’s whereabouts. Damnation! She wanted to stomp her foot in frustration, but she daren’t. She was in a ballroom, her best friend had just gotten engaged, and she was with the most sought-after man in the room. She raised her head and replied, “I think it would be a wonderful idea to invite them to join us. We’ll make it an after-party party.”
“Good. I’ll extend the invitation to them. I guess we should also invite her parents. And possibly a few others.” And with that, Alistair left her side. Again.
Chapter Twenty-three
Parr lay back on his cot in the darkened room in the stable. The horses were quieted for the night. He only wished he could say the same for himself. Tonight was the night Alistair was going to propose to Jasmine, and Parr’s life would never be the same. He should get good and drunk. Maybe a few pints would take away his desperation, at least for a while. Perhaps he and Alistair should part company. After all, knowing that Alistair and Jasmine were being intimate mere yards away from where he lay would torment him night after night. He’d become a raging alcoholic if he were to stay and subject himself to that every night.
Not to mention having to deal with Jasmine every time she needed a horse. For the love of God, he’d come so close to kissing her again last time she was in the stable. If she hadn’t closed her eyes to avoid having to look at him, he would have plundered her again. To be faced with those tempting lips day after day would be too much for him. Yes, it would be best for all if he were to leave New York and carve his own way in this new country.
He’d explain his plan to Alistair in the morning and be on his way somewhere else before Jasmine moved into the house. ’Twas the only plan that made sense, since he couldn’t trust himself when he was around her. Although it hurt his heart to think about leaving the man who had given him a chance to make something of himself here in America, the man who’d filled the huge void in his life left by his mother’s death by offering his friendship as well as a partnership in his new venture. And it hurt his heart more to think of never seeing Jasmine again. He clutched the tweed cap to his chest and rubbed his hand up and down over the ache. He began to relax and let his mind drift away from the torment he was feeling, finally falling into a light slumber.
He smelled smoke! Parr struggled to wake up and bolted from the cot, stopping for only a half-second to jump into his boots. Perhaps it was just a nightmare. He opened the door from his quarters and realized it was no dream, but a raging inferno of reality. The stable was filling rapidly with smoke and flames. He grabbed some bridles from the tack room and began to tack up the horses.
“How did this happen?” he cried out as his assistant came running up.
“I guess one of the horses kicked over a lantern. I tried to douse the fire, but it spread really fast. The hay is making it spread quickly.”
“Let’s get the horses out first, and then fight the blaze.”
The house servants came spilling out into the yard, and began carrying buckets of water to the stable.
One and two at a time, he and his assistant moved the frightened horses to the relative safety of the paddock, although it was still too close. If the barn continued to burn at this rate, it would be a total loss, and the paddock area was immediately next to it. The horses were frightened, the whites of their eyes showing as they whinnied in fear.
“Take them into the pasture, and make sure they stay put,” he yelled to the servants.
The heat of the blaze was intensifying and black smoke rolled out of the stable in waves. There were two horses left — the colt, Blaze, and the Grey Ghost. Parr couldn’t leave either of them in the burning building. The colt was the most skittish and Parr needed to cover his eyes with a cloth to get Blaze beyond the flames. He then plunged back into the stable, which was now beginning to cave in, to rescue his horse. Finally, from the depths of the building, Parr emerged, leading a frightened grey horse.
“Thank God, you’re safe,” James, the valet, exclaimed as he threw a bucket of water on the out-of-control blaze. “That’s the last of the horses, though, so there will be no loss of life. Only a building.”
“Aye. Ach, I need to fetch something from my quarters. Make sure Grey gets into the pasture. Once all the horses get to safety, get on this blaze. Set up a bucket brigade from the lake.” Parr raced back into the burning building, leaving a sputtering James holding the reins of his horse.
• • •
Jasmine huddled close to her mother as they waited for Alistair’s carriage to be brought from the alley behind Amanda’s home. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her arms and shoulders, warding off the chill of the March night. Her fingers laced through the peach fringe at the hem of the garment.
“He didn’t propose!” Jasmine hissed to her mother. “You and Papa told me it was to be tonight!”
“Hush, dear,” her mother replied, stilling the hand that was yanking on the fringe. “He told your father that, in deference to
Amanda and Blake, he would save his proposal for a later date. Let Amanda have her moment. Then, when Alistair does propose, you’ll have everyone’s undivided attention.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s for the best, although it’s disappointing. Damn Amanda, anyway.”
“Jasmine, dear, please no swearing. Do try to be gracious.”
“Can you blame me? First Heather finds a husband, then Amanda, and I’m still left to flounder through the upcoming season alone. Not even an engagement to set myself apart from the other ‘poor unfortunates.’”
“You still have a few weeks before the first ball of the season. Don’t despair. I’m certain Alistair will offer for your hand by week’s end.”
Jasmine glanced over at the man in question, who was deep in conversation with her father. “Humph, I’m not sure I will accept, after the way he treated me this evening. We only danced together twice before he disappeared completely from the room for what seemed hours. I want my husband by my side all night on evenings such as this, not traipsing off without me.”
“I’m certain he had his reasons for leaving. Maybe the food disagreed with him. Ah, the carriage is here.”
Jasmine settled into the carriage, her back up against the squabs. She surveyed the carriage as if seeing it for the first time. It was plush by any standard, with its finely grained tan leather seats which were highly padded. The interior walls were lined with velvet, which helped insulate the seating area. Beveled glass was in every window, and the overall impression was one of wealth and luxury. All things that Jasmine longed for. But she also wanted a partner who would set her passions ablaze. She stared at Alistair for a long minute. He was seated next to her and opposite her parents. Her stomach did not flutter. She wound her arm around his. There was no heat at his touch. No fiery passion. Even his manly scent of sandalwood and tobacco failed to ignite any feelings from her.
The look on Amanda’s face after Blake proposed made Jasmine question her own choice. Amanda was so happy and couldn’t stop touching her intended. Jasmine could almost see the crackle of sexual tension around the pair, and longed for the same for herself. Perhaps the man who could elicit those feelings from her was someone other than Alistair. For the first time since choosing her path in January, she stopped to question her feelings.
