A Warriner to Protect Her

by Virginia Heath

  ‘I’ve made some tea—shall I bring it up?’ Joe’s voice in the hallway below dragged him abruptly and painfully back to reality. Jack sat back, panting, only to see Letty sprawled wantonly across his bed, her hair fanned out around her head, one perfect, aroused breast bared to his hungry gaze and her desire-darkened green eyes as wide as saucers.

  ‘No need!’ he called, hoping the panic was not audible in his voice. The bedchamber door was wide open. Anybody could have seen what he had done, the full, shocking extent of how he had greedily and shamelessly taken advantage of a frightened woman in his care. He was no better than his hateful father after all. ‘We are coming down now.’

  As Letty had not already done so, Jack pulled the neckline of the shirt upwards to cover her modesty and tried to make sense of what had just happened. If Joe had not called out, he wouldn’t have stopped. Now that he had, reason had to replace desire. What had just happened, should never have happened. He had put his own selfish needs above Letty’s. Hadn’t he?

  Although she had instigated the kiss and she was smiling at him shyly. Perhaps she really did want him? If she wanted him, too, then maybe this kiss was the start of something. He glanced back at Letty, only to see her smile had gone and she was hastily tying her hair back with the ribbon. She did not meet his gaze. Did that mean she regretted it? Or was it that she was only equally as horrified as he at the prospect that they might have been caught? Jack sincerely hoped it was the latter because the glimmer of hope that she might, miraculously want him—him!—as much as he wanted her was overwhelming and too ridiculous to give credence to.

  Except such unruly thoughts were as impractical as her reciprocating his feelings in the long term was improbable. Aside from the fact that only the biggest of cads would try to take advantage of a woman who was as distraught as Letty currently was, Jack had nothing to offer her. Nothing positive at least.

  He could offer her a life of misery and of being shunned by society as his father had his mother, he supposed, or he could doom her to an eternity with a man who was as suspicious of love as the world was of a Warriner. Hadn’t he seen first-hand how such a marriage could destroy a woman? Jack would not follow in his father’s footsteps and simply take what he wanted, and to hell with the consequences. Letty deserved more than that. She was bright and resourceful, tenacious and charming, and so beautiful it made the air catch in his lungs every time he saw her.

  Yes, she might well have been staring at him as if he were her knight in shining armour a few moments ago, clinging to him and tempting him to kiss her because she was desperate, so very frightened and he was the only one here. But he also had to remember she had just been crying like a baby in his arms beforehand. He had felt her fear as he had held her and knew she had nobody else to turn to except him and, under difficult circumstances, people rarely thought straight. That fact he also knew well. After the death of her parents, hadn’t his own mother mistakenly believed herself to be in love with his father the moment she had met him, when it had really only ever been lust tinged with loneliness? She had ended up ruined, then embittered and resentful for ever afterwards because she had confused one powerful emotion for another one. Such was the inevitable way of things.

  Jack watched Letty lick her plump, kiss-swollen lips and wondered, fleetingly if she had actually wanted him to kiss her or if, like his mother, she had simply needed someone to be there for her. She had unmistakeably enjoyed his kiss. He had seen and felt her earthy response to his touch. Perhaps the very fact their kiss had turned incendiary the moment it had started was a sign that she felt more for him than simple gratitude.

  For a brief moment, Jack allowed hope to bloom again and then he banished the thought angrily. He was confusing Letty’s obvious gratitude for an invitation, when the poor girl was terrified out of her wits. It was then that he knew if he stayed here with her for much longer, his resolve to do the right thing would disintegrate. It was sobering to realise there was more of his father in him than he had believed. The temptation to bolt the bedchamber door and kiss her again superseded all thoughts and took every ounce of determination to ignore. But he had to be the responsible one. Letty was so full of life and laughter. He would not be the one to kill those lovable traits with the cold, hard truth of an eternity stuck with him, here in this demoralising place.

  Of course, she would initially make the best of it because that was the way she was made, but month after month, year after year, her effervescence would diminish and the light in her lovely green eyes would dim. Letty belonged in society where she could sparkle. He had to do the right thing and nip this in the bud now for her sake, before real, irreparable damage was done.

  ‘Tonight has been a bit of an ordeal, hasn’t it? Neither one of us is thinking straight.’ Jack passed her his handkerchief and watched a myriad of emotions play across her expression. One looked like confusion, another disappointment, and he could have sworn he thought he saw desire, although he could well have been mapping his own desires on to her. Wishful thinking? He just didn’t know any more. In the end, she stared right at him and frowned.

  ‘Not thinking straight? I am not a silly girl, Jack, if that is what you are implying.’

  ‘I know you are not a silly girl. You are a frightened girl, which under the odd circumstances of this evening is perfectly understandable. And fear can unsettle us.’ Jack was definitely unsettled and currently terrified that the part of him which was like his father would win. She was still frowning.

  ‘So you are saying what we just did happened only because you think I was unsettled?’ Now he heard anger, too.

  ‘What I mean is, in view of everything that has happened, it would be inadvisable to confuse one charged emotional state with another. Kissing me is not going to make the dangerous situation we find ourselves in any better, nor is it advisable. We both know it was nothing more than a silly mistake on your part.’

  ‘A silly mistake.’ Her tone could have curdled milk. ‘On my part.’

  He smiled as best as he could at her admission, even though he had secretly hoped she would disagree with his practical logic. At least now he had made her understand what had really made her kiss him, his conscience would be clear. Almost. ‘I would prefer to pretend it never happened.’ While he would cherish the memory of their kiss, the last thing he wanted was for Letty to feel awkward around him. He would feel awkward enough for both of them. And disappointed. And perhaps even a little heartbroken.

  ‘I see.’

  She wasn’t looking at him again, therefore he had no idea whether she agreed with his assessment of their current situation of not. She rummaged on the bedside table for the elaborately embroidered handkerchief he had found her with that fateful night and watched her clean her face with it, then tried to smile back at him bravely. Clearly she was grateful he had extricated them out of a potentially awkward situation and was relieved to be able to pretend nothing was amiss, although the knowledge did not bring him any relief.

  He had kissed her. Intimately. And not only in the physical sense. His strange, powerful feelings for her had been poured into the kiss as well. If she’d have had more experience of a man’s kisses, she would now know he felt more for her than just passion. Jack had been so caught up in the moment, so caught up in the idea of him and her together, he had never wanted it to end. Even now, he felt uncharacteristically unsteady and shaken. Letty, on the other hand, was definitely not still reeling from the intensity of the unexpected emotional and physical bonding. She appeared to have recovered her equilibrium without much effort at all. Further confirmation he had done the right thing—if perhaps a little insulting.

  ‘How terrible do I look?’

  Not nearly terrible enough to stop his body’s yearnings. ‘Nobody would know you had been crying.’ Jack held out his hand and tried to ignore how perfect hers felt clasped in his. She was a damsel in distress and a true knight in sh
ining armour would put aside his own feelings for the sake of hers. Theirs could only ever be the sort of courtly love from a bygone era. Jack was her protector, nothing more. She was a princess. ‘Please try not to worry about those men any more. One way or another I will get you home safely, Letty. You have my word.’ He pulled her up to stand next to him and then forced himself to let go of her hand. ‘Until then, you will remain here. With me.’

  God help him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fifteen days and thirteen hours remaining...

  With only four days to go till Christmas Eve, Letty was determined to get into the spirit of the Season despite everything that was presently wrong with her life. Even if one put aside the trials and tribulations of an uncle who had betrayed you and a gnarly old earl who intended to wed by you by force, then potentially kill you for your money, or the sad fact that not one of the London newspapers Jacob read so avidly had printed any story suggesting she was missing or so much as missed, there were more pressing matters which Letty found vexing. All of them involved the eldest Warriner and her stupid, pointless feelings for him.

  Why Letty was so besotted with the surly brute, she could not say. He was nothing like the man she had promised herself she would fall in love with. Not that she was in love with Jack, of course. Only a fool would develop such a powerful emotion for a man who largely behaved as if she didn’t exist. Ever since their kiss five days ago, he had either avoided being left alone with her, or treated her like somebody suffering from a delusional mental state. Yes, he was polite and more sociable than he had been. When he was accompanied by any one of his brothers, he laughed and chatted to her as if she were one of them. But if she tried to corner him on his own he bolted. On that fateful night, he had dismissed her one and only attempt at seduction as merely being a weakness of the mind brought about wholly because she had been distraught. As if she, Letty Dunston, thwarter of kidnappers and now master baker, was even capable of behaving like such a ninny.

  To save face, she had turned into Violet once more and gone along with it, when in truth his speedy about-turn from ardent, passionate lover to patronising, overbearing protector had hurt. Letty had kissed Jack because her body had told her to, because being held in his arms had made her forget about Layton, Bainbridge and the danger she was in. Because it simply felt right. And not, as he had oh-so-reasonably stated, because she had been in a charged emotional state, brought about by fear. She had been in a charged emotional state all right, only it had been brought about by being in such close, intoxicating proximity to him.

  And to make matters worse, and perhaps even more galling than being chastised like a child for wanting something she couldn’t have, was the sorry fact that she still wanted him. Body and soul. Every loyal, upstanding, brave solid inch of him. He had pushed her away and then, to her utter mortification, informed her he would rather pretend it hadn’t happened. Letty was so angry at him, and so utterly demoralised and humiliated by his rejection, that five days had done nothing to close the wound. Yet barely an hour of the day went by when she didn’t remember how marvellous it had felt to have his mouth and hands on her. Or to have her hands on him. She had never behaved in such a scandalously wanton manner—but acknowledged honestly to herself that she happily would again.

  With him.

  Any time that he saw fit!

  Angry and frustrated in equal measure, Letty stared down at the bread dough on the table in front of her. After her disastrous Fowl à la Braise, and after failing so spectacularly as a seductress, conquering The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Simple had become something of a mission. Everything in her life might well be miserable in the here and now, but she could at least learn to make bread. Punching the air out of the soft dough gave her some satisfaction and she continued to pummel it, imagining it was Jack Warriner’s handsome, patronising, kissable face.

  If he were a normal gentleman, he would be flattered by her interest. In Mayfair, suitors had been queuing up to catch her eye. Some handsome, almost all titled and eligible. It was rare a day went by without a bouquet arriving from one of her admirers, complimenting her on her beauty, charm and wit. Any one of them would have been thrilled if she had kissed them—not that she had ever wanted to kiss any of them. But when the patronising, supercilious, condescending Jack looked at her, all he saw was an emotionally feeble girl with an addled mind, so of course, the responsible thing to do was to pretend it hadn’t happened or avoid her like the plague. Nobody had ever avoided her before—and certainly not someone she had a soft spot for. Yet despite his annoyingly patriarchal manner and apparent immunity to her charms, Letty still had a particularly soft spot for the vexing man. When she didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to kiss him, she simply wanted to hold him and talk to him. Be there for him as he was for her. Ease his many burdens.

  From the sounds beyond the back door, and the way her traitorous skin tingled, the vexing man himself was back from the village. Irritated at the realisation her body now apparently sensed his presence before her eyes did, Letty continued to ferociously knead her bread dough and did not do him the courtesy of looking up as he burst through the door.

  ‘You’re back then,’ she said with her eyes fixed on her dough.

  She heard him and Jamie take off their greatcoats and shake the rain out of their hair like a pair of wet dogs.

  ‘They’ve gone—Layton and his men.’ This came from Jamie, never one to mince his words or over-embellish a sentence with more words than were absolutely necessary. Letty did look up then.

  ‘Gone where?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘Bound for London, we believe. Three weeks of fruitless searching, constant rain and the rapid approach of Christmas have forced them to give up. The innkeeper said they paid their bill in full and passed on a forwarding address in Mayfair in case anyone heard anything interesting.’ He thrust a piece of paper at her and she stared down at the address dispassionately. She had been expecting to see her uncle’s address—her address—and she was not disappointed. She hardly needed further proof of his treachery.

  ‘Do you think they will come back?’

  His blue eyes flicked briefly towards hers. Obviously, even looking at her for short periods of time was something he found distasteful. ‘Hard to say. The reward is now a thousand pounds, so even with them gone, finding you is a massive temptation for the locals. Except now the reward is for any information that leads to your whereabouts or the discovery of a body...so perhaps they have given up hope that you’re even still alive.’

  ‘Well, my uncle will be in for a surprise when I turn up on my birthday then, won’t he? You must be relieved, Jack. You only have to suffer through another two weeks of my burdensome company.’ Letty was not sure what sort of reaction she had been expecting from that harshly delivered statement, but with hindsight, she supposed she should have anticipated stony indifference. Jack did stony indifference so well.

  ‘I’m going to chop some wood.’ He stalked to the door and retrieved his sodden coat from the peg. The door slammed behind him and Letty punched the dough again, feeling decidedly shaky and thoroughly upset. Jamie limped around the table to sit opposite her and stared.

  ‘Have you two had an argument?’

  ‘Of course not, to have an argument, one would actually have to converse in private. In case it has escaped your notice, your brother prefers to avoid me.’

  ‘He has been absent quite a bit lately. And now that I think upon it, he’s been rather quiet. For him. Clearly you bring out the worst in him.’ His mouth quirked in an approximation of a smile.

  ‘I am well aware he doesn’t like me, Jamie.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that...’

  Letty snorted her disbelief. ‘I would! Of course he doesn’t like me. Aside from that one night...when Layton turned up here...we have scarcely exchanged any words which were not completely necessary or
spoken across the dinner table.’

  ‘The night Layton turned up, you say? Wasn’t that the night the pair of you kissed?’

  Letty’s head shot up and she felt the beginnings of a blush stain her cheeks. ‘He told you about that!’

  Jamie tried to act innocent and then grinned. ‘He never said a word—he didn’t have to. I have eyes. Even a short-sighted fool with no sense could have worked out what the pair of you had been up to that night. You both arrived downstairs looking rumpled, couldn’t meet each other’s eyes and had those swollen mouths that only come from some serious—’

  ‘Stop!’ Her cheeks were now positively steaming so she covered them with her hands. Not much got past Jack’s intuitive brother. ‘Does everybody know?’

  He shrugged. ‘Hard to say. We haven’t spoken about it—but they have eyes, too.’

  This was awful. ‘Oh! I feel like such an idiot.’

  ‘Don’t. Jack is a big boy. If you didn’t want to be kissed, you had a right to put a stop to it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, I assumed from his odd mood, longing glances and solitary tendencies you refused his advances.’ His blue eyes, so like his older brother’s, but not as addictive to her, narrowed as he scrutinised her. ‘Am I wrong?’

  Letty stared down at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow her whole. When it didn’t, she covered her face with her hands again so that Jamie would not see her shame. ‘I kissed him. He was the one who put a stop to it.’ As she had always suspected, when you put aside her fortune, there was nothing particularly special about her.