The Earl's Perfect Match

by Kimberly Nee

  She knew very well and part of her almost hoped it would happen. No, that wasn’t true. She wanted Bennett to see his foolishness for himself, not because he was forced into it. Still, mustering up any sort of remorse was impossible, and she didn’t even try. “Everyone is at dinner.”

  “And how did you know which rooms were mine?”

  Heat tickled her cheeks. “I followed your footman.”

  “You followed—of course you did. And how did you acquire those? And that?” He pointed to the pestle and mortar then nudged the tin with his forefinger. “What is that, anyway?”

  “Juniper berries. I was going to crush them into a paste for you.” Over his left shoulder she spied a table and skirted him to set everything down upon it. “Where do you hurt the most?”

  “I don’t hurt.”

  She frowned as she wrestled with the tin. The lid held fast and refused to budge no matter how she struggled. With a low sigh, Bennett took the stubborn tin from her and popped the lid with very little effort.

  “Thank you,” she said, and then paused to look up at him. “Wait, you don’t hurt?”

  “No.” He folded his arms. “I don’t.”

  “But then why… I mean, you aren’t… That is to say…” She slammed the tin against the table, knocking at least half a dozen juniper berries from it to roll in six different directions all the way off the table. “Bloody hell,” she whispered, a feeling of complete idiocy stealing over her as she stared down at the highly polished tabletop. “And yet here I am, as if I belonged here.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment,” he said softly, crouching to scoop up as many berries as he could. “But you shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’m never where I’m supposed to be.” She sighed, still focusing on the tabletop. If she didn’t look away, the fool tears poking the backs of her eyeballs would remain where they were. If she looked up—looked at him—she’d make an even greater fool of herself. “And England is the biggest not-supposed-to-be-here of them all.”

  “I’m not really sure what that means.” He caught her by the hand, turning hers palm up to fill it with somewhat dusty purplish berries. “Elena?”

  “It means I should have stayed on St. Phillippe, where I belong,” she muttered, shifting her gaze to the berries rolling about in her palm. They were mostly purple, but with a hint of waxy white coating them. She jiggled them gently. When she looked up, it was to find him gazing at her with tired but confused eyes. “I shouldn’t even be here. You’re probably getting ready to speak to Rosamund and her mother.

  “I’m not doing anything of the sort.” He crossed the room to the windows, where he sank onto the wide ledge. Clasping his hands between his thighs, he said, “The more I think about it, the less I want to do it. I had Matthews postpone our meet for now.”

  She hesitated. Should she tell him what Cordelia confided in her about the women in Rosamund’s family and their childbearing difficulties?

  She had to.

  “My lord, I’ve learned something about Lady Rosamund this afternoon. Something that I think you need know.”

  She looked up to find him staring at her, his expression neutral. He nodded, gesturing to her with one hand. “Do go on then.”

  Elena took a deep breath. “The women in her family have a history of troubled pregnancies.”

  Silence fell. A hint of a blush appeared along his cheekbones. Then he murmured, “I see.”

  “But neither Eleanor nor Christina have such a history.” Her words practically fell over one another in her haste to speak them, but then she paused and frowned. “At least, I don’t think they do. Although”—she winced—“madness does seem to run in Miss Fielding’s family.”

  He didn’t reply, the silence growing thick and uncomfortable until he shattered it with a heavy sigh. “I hardly think that it matters now.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said, it hardly matters now.” As he spoke, his shoulders slumped slightly and he bent his head forward. His dark hair brushed his shoulders, fell forward to screen him from her.

  She waited for him to clarify, and when he didn’t, she dumped the berries into their tin without ceremony, wiping the dust on her skirts as she moved to stand before him. “Might I ask you something?”

  “If I say no, will it stop you?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Then ask.”

  “What if…well…what if you’re wrong? About what you think is to come?”

  “It’s a risk I cannot take, Elena,” he murmured without looking up.

  “Why? No one’s future is set in stone. It changes based on the choices you make today, the ones you make tomorrow. Don’t you see that? What if”—without thinking, she knelt and caught his clasped hands in hers—“what if you’re wrong?”

  “What if I’m not?” His eyes—those beautiful blue eyes—met hers, and his were shiny. “What if I’m not, Elena? Then what?”

  “Didn’t you ever just throw caution to the wind and let what will be, be?”

  “No. My fate is already determined for me and one cannot fight their destiny.”

  “Rubbish. It’s an excuse to hide, and that’s what you’re doing, because it’s safe.”

  “Safe?” He let out a brittle laugh that held no humor. “Yes, I suppose I am hiding. But what else am I to do? If I let you—let you in and you let me in, and then I die. Then what? Then what happens to you?”

  “I would grieve, Bennett. I would miss you and mourn you, of course, but you’d always be with me. And don’t forget, there’d be children as well, so I’d have a piece—or pieces—of you right there with me the entire way. If it even happened.” She tried to smile, even as her throat closed and her eyes stung anew. Yes, if there was any credence to the supposed curse, and harm befell him, she would mourn him the rest of her days, but all those things would carry her through. “And I would rather an hour of wonderful with you than a lifetime of nothing special with anyone else. And that’s what it would be, Bennett. Don’t you see that?”

  “I can’t do that to you.”

  “You won’t.” She brought his hands to her lips and kissed his fingertips, her heart rising as his eyes softened.

  He held her gaze until it felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but there was something in his eyes, a tenderness in them she had seen once before. Right before he kissed her in the maze.

  “Elena, I—”

  She didn’t let him finish, but closed the space between them and silenced him by capturing his lips with hers. His body tensed, but his lips yielded to hers and his hands unclasped to curve against her hips. She caught him by the shoulders, her fingers curling into the fine fabric of his shirt, and as his mouth opened in surrender, she tugged.

  He threw out one hand to brace them, but his other hand slid around to the small of her back, cradling her as he pressed her down to the floor and covered her body completely with his. He kissed her even more thoroughly in return, hungry and passionate, his tongue working a magical spell on her as it entwined with hers.

  Something pleasant uncoiled deep in the pit of her belly, spread outward like wildfire as he sensually explored her mouth. This was the sort of kiss every woman dreamed of receiving, one full of fire and need, as if he’d go up in smoke without her.

  He wasn’t the only one feeling such urgency. She wrapped her arms tight about his waist, as if afraid he’d vanish otherwise. Her fingers curled about the back of his lawn shirt and she drew it from the waist of his breeches. His skin was hot and smooth, and as she trailed her fingernails along the valley on either side of his spine, he shivered against her.

  He broke their kiss, sweeping his lips along her jaw. A smile pulled at her lips as he moved down, blazing a path along the side of her neck to leave her breathless with airy laughter. It felt so wonderful, but also tickled, and she reveled in the delightful sensations. His hair stroked her neck, soft and silky. When he pulled away, he sta
red down at her through eyes ablaze with desire, so brilliantly blue and more beautiful than any she’d ever seen.

  Just as she had imagined.

  “You know this is madness, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice husky. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Everyone knows you’ve gone missing and it won’t take much to figure out where you’ve gone missing to.”

  Some of her pleasure faded as reality sank in. True. Everyone—and by everyone, she meant Lady Rosamund—had seen her in the dining room. Although they didn’t know she’d sought out juniper for Bennett, the servants did, and servants gossiped.

  On the other hand, she had no desire to leave him, to leave his embrace and what would follow. She didn’t care if anyone talked. Let them. He was finally letting her in, and she was not about to let that portcullis slam down again. If she left, he would have a chance to talk himself once more into the foolish notion that he had to keep her as far away as possible.

  He dipped toward her and brushed her lips again. “And this should not happen here. Our first time together should not be on a dusty floor, hoping like mad no one comes knocking for any reason.”

  Our first time together. Those words sent a rush of tingles skittering through her. Their first time of many, she hoped. Her heart soared and a smile pulled at her lips.

  Our first time together.

  The gentle sweep of his lips sent a shiver down her spine, as did the deep husk of his voice, a caress in itself. When he was aroused, his accent thickened, sounded so much more refined than any she was accustomed to hearing, and she found she would do whatever she could to make him sound that way again.

  “You’ve done—this—before…I assume,” she murmured, the knots in her belly tightening to an uncomfortable tension. She didn’t know why she brought it up, but the words popped free before she could halt them.

  “I have.” He nodded, stroking her cheek again, so gently she barely felt it, and yet it blasted through her like a lightning bolt. “Have you?”

  She shook her head, feeling foolish. She didn’t want to hear about the frolicking he might have done in other beds. Not now, when her own feelings for him were so new and raw and she teetered on the precipice of such a momentous thing. Far better to pretend he’d be just as anxious and nervous as she was—although she thought she hid it well enough—than to think of him as being not nearly as invested as she was. After all, it wouldn’t be new for him.

  “Then it certainly shouldn’t happen here.” He bent to kiss the tip of her nose. “Expect pleasure, Elena. And intimacy.” His hands came up to catch her face between his palms, and his thumbs swept gently along her cheekbones. “And the feeling of knowing that no matter what is in my past, it hardly compares to what I hope to have in my future. And of course, the hope I don’t disappoint you at the same time.”

  “How would that even be possible?”

  His eyebrow rose. “Even if there’ve been no men before me, you could find me lacking as well. It’s a bit of pressure on a fellow, living up to the ideal you’ve most likely built in your head.”

  “True.” She did have a wonderful scenario already laid out, only she had no fear Bennett wouldn’t live up to it.

  “See? Now you’ve gone and done it. I’ll have to make certain that, when the time comes, I do my best to live up to your daydreams.” He kissed her again, this time lightly on the lips. “Go down. I’ll be along shortly.”

  “You probably shouldn’t.” Her eyelids felt heavy as he brushed her lips again, and again. She didn’t want to leave, but wished only to melt into him and lose herself in his touch, in his kisses. Before her mind became too muddled by desire, she tilted her head back. “It would raise eyebrows should you suddenly appear after sending your regrets. I can always think of some reason why I wandered away. I’ll say I became lost after trying to find a privy or something.”

  “Very well, then you’d best go, before I change my mind about the floor.”

  “There is a bed right over there,” she replied pertly.

  “Oh, love, don’t remind me.” He chuckled, stepping back, as if he needed to keep her beyond arms’ reach as well. It was odd, how quickly friendship could evolve into something so much more in such a short time and then do its best to rule over every sensibility. If he kissed her once more, she wouldn’t care where they made love—bed, floor, out on the rocky drive in full view of everyone—it wouldn’t matter. “You really have no idea how difficult this is, letting you walk out of here this way. Now go. And I will see you later.”

  “How?”

  “Dunning Court is my home. I know every corridor and every passage, including”—he winked—“the secret ones.”

  “Secret passages?”

  “All over. Perhaps one day, if you ask me nicely enough, I’ll show you some.” He walked her to the door. “So, tomorrow, be forewarned, I plan on monopolizing you when it comes to dancing.”

  She grinned up at him. “Is that so?”

  “Oh, most definitely. And it’s probably also only fair to warn you I intend to hold you scandalously close to me. I like the way you feel against me.”

  “That wouldn’t be proper, would it, my lord?”

  Bennett smiled down at her and took her hand to bring to his lips. “Please, I don’t want to hear the words ‘my lord’ come from your lips. Bennett. Or Ben. And you’re right. It wouldn’t be. But ask me if I care.” He brushed the back of her hand with another kiss. “We will raise eyebrows and pay no mind to it, Miss Sebastiano. It’s my home and I’m the Earl of Dunning. I can damn well do what I please, as long as you’re agreeable to breaking the rules with me.”

  A delicious shiver rippled through her, one that set loose a flurry of butterflies in her belly. She couldn’t help but smile up at him. “Oh, well how can I possibly resist that? I am only a savage, remember?”

  “No, darling. You are a lady.” He said it in a low, serious voice, and her sense of playfulness faded.

  “I am glad you think so, even if no one else does.”

  “They’re wrong and I will gladly correct them on your behalf, darling. Each and every one of them.”

  “And what of Lady Rosamund?”

  “Who?” He smiled. “You’ve nothing to worry about, Elena. I made her no offer, nor have I formally asked to speak with her. I am not bound to Rosamund in any way.” He released her hand. “Now go, enjoy your evening, and I will see you in the church at half eight.”

  Then, with another sweet kiss, they were on opposite sides of a closed door once more, and Elena could only hope the flush of pleasure in her cheeks faded by the time she reached the dining room.

  Although several of the other guests gave her strange looks, no one made mention of her lengthy absence, except for Conn, who, around a mouthful of pheasant, muttered, “Did you get lost?”

  “Actually, yes.” Elena reached for her wine and hoped her supper wasn’t too cold. “I went to find the privy and—”

  “Enough said. I almost found myself in the valet’s room the other evening,” Conn said, taking another bite of bird. “And I still don’t know how that could happen. They must be at least two floors above us.”

  Lord Shelton smiled. “I was beginning to miss you, Miss Sebastiano. Did you have trouble?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t solve on my own, thank you.” She took a small bite of pheasant. Cold. But the wine was delicious and so she drained her glass. Before she could blink, that glass was whisked away and another replaced it, this time filled with claret.

  “To where did you wander?” Lady Rosamund asked. She no longer looked so red eyed and tearstained. She didn’t even look angry any longer. Elena couldn’t decide whether or not that was a good thing.

  “I went to attend to a personal matter.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She just wasn’t about to reveal the nature of her personal matter. “And I’m afraid I became a little turned around. I need a map of this house if I ever hope to stop getting lost.”

  Cordelia speared a carrot and pop
ped it into her mouth. When she’d finished chewing, she said, “I should l-l-love to explore D-d-d-Dunning C-c-c-c—”

  “Court,” Christina replied in a bored voice. “I should think Lord Dunning would frown upon you slinking about his home, Cordy.”

  “I didn’t s-s-s-say I’d d-d-d-do it! Just that I-I’d l-l-love the opportunity.”

  The brewing argument was broken up when Shelton cleared his throat. “Perhaps we’d be best served to take ourselves into the game room.” He leveled a slow grin at Elena. “Is anyone up to a game of Aluette?”

  “I thank you, my lord, but no.” Elena rose from her chair and set her napkin beside her plate. “Everyone will be waiting for me in the chapel for the rehearsal, and then I’ll be up early to attend to Miss Santa Cruz, so if you will excuse me, I’ll bid you all a good evening.”

  “Well, promise me you’ll save me a dance,” Shelton said, winking at her.

  She paused in the doorway. “Ask me tomorrow, and if my card is open, I’ll say yes.”

  “Oh, you’ll say yes, all right,” he replied with no little air of confidence. “I’ll make certain of that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The morning of the wedding dawned clear and sunny, with the first pale yellow slashes cutting through the darkness only minutes after Elena arrived at Claudia’s room to help her dress. “So, are you nervous?”

  “Hardly. But I do have butterflies, Lena. A thousand of them. And they’re all beating their wings against my insides.” Claudia let out a peal of laughter, then clapped both hands over her mouth, which muffled her, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  “Well, you don’t exactly get married every day now, do you?” Elena gently peeled Claudia’s hand from her mouth, “But everything is as it should be, between you and Galen?” It was an unnecessary question, as everything last evening seemed fine and Claudia already had that special glow most brides radiated. Her eyes sparkled despite her short night’s sleep, her smile practically lit up the room without any help from the sun, and she twirled away from Elena, dancing to the gown hanging on the open wardrobe door.