“Oh, dear.” She mumbled and shoved another scoop of ice into her mouth. She swallowed and glanced up at him and smiled. “Parasols. I have quite a collection of parasols.”
How strange she did not carry one with her at the moment and the freckles dusting her nose were unmistakable, a clear indication she did not carry a parasol. Peculiar. “Do you read?”
Her eyes widened at his sudden switch in topic. “Books?”
“Well, yes. For one thing.”
“I do.” Her hands clutched her empty ice cup as though she’d never let it go.
“I recently read a fascinating booklet ‘Practical Remarks on Aerial Navigation’ by Sir George Cayley. The author provided a wonderful discussion on the principles of flight. Can you imagine people soaring through the air like birds?”
Felicia smiled and let her hands relax around the dish. “That would be ever so amazing. How about Mr. Hancock’s steam phaeton? I saw him once in Hyde Park.”
Jonathan eased back into his seat and passed their ice cups off to the footman who came around to collect them. So, he’d found a bluestocking in debutante’s clothing. “I have a copy of his Narrative of Twelve Years’ Experiments and have taken a ride with him.”
“Oh! You’ve ridden in his steam machine? How exiting! What was it like?” Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks took on a rosy blush.
“It was a rather loud and juddering ride, but amazing nonetheless.” He took up the reins and steered them toward Hyde Park. “Perhaps we will run in to him today while on our drive?”
Who could’ve guessed she had a tinkerer’s soul? The rest of their drive she chatted about all things mechanical with an animation most women reserved for fashion. As they left the park to return to her house, she grew subdued again. It became clear her parents did not encourage her intellectual pursuits, and the typical men of their class would not wish to court a woman with such interests.
A small pang of guilt stabbed at his conscience since he knew he was not truly interested in courting her either. Damn Marie and her ridiculous stipulations. He had to prove to her once and for all they belonged together. Perhaps a night out would help her adjust to the notion. Maybe attending a masquerade would give her enough anonymity to relax and enjoy herself and help her see how well matched they were?
“Thank you for the enchanting afternoon.” The meek little mouse had replaced his animated companion and reminded him he was not alone.
“You are quite welcome. And, truly, don’t let your parents douse your interest in mechanical things.” He helped her alight from the carriage and escorted her to her door.
“Thank you, my Lord.” She curtsied and dashed through the door in a flurry of skirts.
If he wasn’t already in love, Miss Felicia Blackstone might have made a delightful companion despite her parents. He shrugged and climbed back into his vehicle. Heading home to change, he decided to stop by his club for dinner and some masculine companionship. Tomorrow he would make arrangements to treat Marie to a night she’d never forget.
***
Jonathan pulsed with excitement as he arrived at The Market. In his hand he clutched a feathered mask that matched the simple black one he wore. Before he could knock, the butler swung the door open and greeted him. “My Lord.”
“Good evening. Please tell Madame Marchander I am here.” He headed into the empty main salon and ordered a drink. Tilting his glass, he downed the amber liquid in one swallow. He enjoyed the penetrating warmth of the alcohol as he waited for Marie.
“Good evening, Heart.” Her melodious voice carried over to him from the left. She’d shortened his title, could it mean something? Perhaps she had softened toward him?
“Ah, you look bewitching as always.” He bowed to her.
“Please, join me in my office for a moment while I wait on Karen to bring my cloak.” She disappeared behind the tapestry that hid her office door.
Following her inside, he determined to take a moment to steal a kiss before they left for his surprise. She stopped and turned around to find him close behind. So close she ended up captured within his arms. Soft, feminine curves pressed against him in delightful contrast to his masculine form. His gaze drifted to her parted lips, and he swooped in to capture the pink softness. Delving past teeth to find her tongue and the warmth of her mouth, he slid his tongue over her inner landscape. Probing, exploring, tasting.
A sigh of a breath escaped her as she melted into him. His chest rumbled with the growl of desire he could not contain. Finally, he pulled away convinced if he did not end the kiss they would never make the evening’s entertainment. “Turn about so I can tie your mask.”
“A mask?” Marie sounded breathless from their kiss.
“I am taking you to the masked ball at Vauxhall. We shall have great fun eating and dancing in anonymity, and then we shall escape just before midnight and the big unmasking.”
She could not hide her delight, even as words to the contrary crossed her luscious lips. “We should not take such a risk. What if someone recognized us, even with the masks?”
“They will all be far too busy dancing and drinking to care who we are.” He placed the mask over her eyes and tied the ribbons behind her head taking care not to disturb her perfectly styled hair.
“Very well. We shall go. But I warn you if we recognize anyone I shall insist we leave.”
“We will consider the options should the need arise. I have a private dining box reserved for us.” A knock on the door preceded Karen’s entry with said cloak.
Jonathan took the garment and slipped it over Marie’s shoulders. Arm in arm they left the office and then The Market.
Alone in the carriage, Marie looked at Heart. When had he become Heart and not Heartfield? And what possessed this bit of lunacy of his? “Why the masked ball?” Her question broke through the comfortable silence.
“I’m selfish. I want to see you dance and smile as you once did at the balls we attended. Before I left….”
“I have not danced like that in many years, but I will endeavor to enjoy myself to the fullest this evening.” Her smile felt freer than any she’d granted in the last four or five years. The weight of being the perfect hostess and mistress lifted from her shoulders in an unexpected twist.
The carriage halted and Heart, because he was still her heart after all this time, assisted her in exiting the vehicle. Arm in arm, they found their way down the shadowy winding paths through the flora and fauna from which Vauxhall Gardens received its named. The ball was already a crush. They surged through the crowd, hands linked. Arriving at their box, Heart swept her to safety and into his arms again. He straightened her mask, which had been knocked askew during their dash through the press of people. Then, he kissed her. A swift brush of lips before the service door opened and their waiter arrived.
A lavish six-course meal left them secluded in their semiprivate box, free to touch and caress each other at will.
“I remember the time you broke your arm trying to ride your father’s stallion.” Heart grinned, letting his gaze rest on her face as he drifted back in time.
“I was so determined I had outgrown my pony. Papa grew terribly angry with me.” An ache in her chest took up residence. “That happened before the gambling problem started. Or perhaps he just had it under control then. Who’s to know what was happening.”
“I’m sorry, Marie. I did not mean to bring up painful memories.” Concern creased his brow above the mask.
“No, don’t apologize. I love remembering good times, even if there are negative memories associated.” She patted his hand that lay on the table between them. “Perhaps it is time we danced?”
“I think it is.” He rose, held out his hand to assist her, and led her onto the floor as a waltz struck up.
Feeling the strength of his arms about her, she reveled in the moment of contentment. Then he swept her into the music and they whirled around the dance floor. They danced song after song, never leaving the floor. Enjoying themselve
s immensely, they lost track of the hour and before they knew it, the reveal waltz floated across the assembly. Every so often, partners were swapped and passed from one person to another. At the end of the song the clock struck midnight and Marie realized they had stayed too long. She found herself in the arms of a man who unabashedly leered at her bosom. He pulled off his mask, revealing a drunken Lord Bethany.
The fates were not only against her, but had conspired to punish her for some perceived slight.
On the ran-tan, he reached for her mask with an unstable hand and tried to pull it off. She smacked the appendage away, refusing to reveal herself.
“Come now, love, show me your face so I can get my due.” He swayed toward her and then stumbled back pulling her with him. Bracing himself, he grabbed her breast and smiled as he stabilized. “Well, now that’s nice, too.”
“Unhand me, you bug hunting nobbler!” She slapped his hand away, but in the melee knocked her mask off.
“I know you! Madame Marchander!” He announced so loud those around them turned to gawk at the disturbance.
Feeling as exposed as she had the night of her auction, she cringed away from the drunken fool, but he would have none of it.
He gripped her arm with brutish strength and pulled her against his pudgy body. His hand dove down the front of her bodice to fondle her breasts. His beefy limb didn’t quite fit resulting in his own thwarted frustration. He jerked his hand back tearing the dress so it drooped and left her corset exposed. “I’ve never had such a fine piece as you.” He proceeded to attempt a kiss.
His moist mouth crashed down on hers. Shocked, she opened her mouth, allowing him to swipe at her with his tongue. She struggled to push him away, to no effect. Then he vanished. Staggering back, she looked up to see an avenging angel in the form of Heart. Mask gone, he landed his fist square in the sot’s face leaving him out cold on the floor of the ballroom. Everyone around them stared in shock as he turned and took her hand. Silent, he led her away from the scene and into his carriage.
“I-I…” she stammered at a loss for words.
The carriage moved out posthaste as he pulled her into his arms. “I am so very sorry, my dear. By the time I realized the time, the music began playing and someone had whisked you away. I looked for you but couldn’t find you before the music ended.”
Moist tracks of tears dampened her face as she pulled away from his chest. “You must not blame yourself.” She sniffed. “I did not realize either. And who could have predicted I would end up with that horrible Lord Bethany?” She shuddered.
“I should have been there. Are you sure you are well?” He looked her over and noticed the state of her bodice. “That dirty whoreson. He molested you?”
“Not very successfully. Between his drunken state and my tightly laced corset he merely managed to tear my dress, which can be repaired.” She glanced down at the ruined fabric. “Or at least I hope it can be mended.”
Heart’s jaw ticked with repressed anger lending him a menacing air. “I’d very much like to go back and thrash the rotten bastard.”
Deep inside Marie thrilled at the protectiveness he displayed. Despite that, she tried to temper her words. “I don’t believe that will be required.”
“It might not be required, but it would bring me deep satisfaction.” He pulled her closer to him again and held her until they arrived at The Market.
“I’ll see you inside.” He hopped down and helped her out.
“Heart, would you mind terribly if I retired? I think I am rather worn out after all the dancing and then the tussle at the end.”
“Please, Marie. Just let me hold you. Nothing else.”
The need in his voice won out against her better judgment and she nodded, letting him follow her inside.
Alone in their room, they stripped down and climbed into bed. She sighed on a soft exhale as he pulled her into his arms and held her until she drifted off to sleep. Her defenses lay in a pile of rubble around her heart.
Chapter Five
Marie awoke surrounded by Heart. His arms, his smell, his very essence seemed to encompass her. Needing to extricate herself, she eased out from between the sheets without disturbing him and tugged the bell pull to call Karen. After tending to nature, she drew on a robe as Karen bustled into the room with a tray of hot chocolate and the morning paper. Beneath the news lay the gossip rag.
Heart slept on, oblivious to the tinkling of silver and china as she poured herself a cup of steaming chocolate. She cracked the curtains enough to light her paper. After perusing the news, she picked up the gossip rag. It often contained more tripe than not, but the occasional bit of information, when paired with her more reliable, sources had become very useful. She stared at the front page and scanned the bits deemed most news worthy.
A certain Lady F— was seen in the company of Lord K— who was supposed to be home ill in lieu of attending the soiree at Blake House the previous night.
A credible bit of information, too bad his wife would be the last to know. She scanned farther down past trivial bits and then a line on the inside page caught her attention.
Lord H—was seen to wallop Lord B—in the face over the notorious Madame M—at the Vauxhall Garden Masquerade last night.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!” She set her chocolate aside and rose to approach the bed. “Wake up, Heart. You silly fool. Wake up this instant.”
Sleepy and tousled, he sat up, letting the covers bunch around his waist. His smooth chest a distraction to her line of thought until he flexed his hand and inspected it more closely. “What is the matter, Marie? I was having the most lascivious dream about you.” He sported his naughty grin, a slightly lopsided smile paired with his twinkling eyes. It left no doubt as to just how carnal his dream had been. The evidence was irrefutable when his hardened cock tented the covers.
“Yes well, while you were dreaming, Madame Gossip had her way with us. Your little display last night was spotted and reported in the gossip column this morning.” She slapped the paper against his chest and set to pacing. “I warned you our association would come to no good.”
“I hardly count a vague reference to three people as ‘no good.’ He got up and came toward her naked as a babe. “Stop fretting about a single line buried on the last page of a gossip rag. Come back to bed. I wish to feel the silk of your skin against mine.”
Marie joined him, though she continued to worry about the ramifications of that single line. She had seen greater men than Heart ruined with less.
***
After a morning round of making love, Marie managed to send Heart away so she could attend to business matters. He was blind if he thought he would survive unscathed. At the very least, there would be talk of his defense of her person. Worst case they would be linked and his chances of securing the kind of woman he should have as a bride would be ruined. He would have to settle for a world-wise widow or some merchant’s daughter instead of the heiress he deserved.
Frustrated, she decided she needed to up the ante. He had not batted an eyelash at the cock ring or the dildo. She wondered how he might feel about another partner in bed with them. Would he share her with another woman? Perhaps that would be the final straw. Resolved to finally prove to him how unsuitable a baroness she would be, she set about making arrangements for the evening’s entertainments.
The clock showed four after nine when he appeared in the salon wearing his mask and de rigueur dark clothes. Marie reminded herself she needed to push him away not try to attract him, so she had no business fixating on him. Even less, allowing her heart to soften in the face of his persistence. She must be strong or they would both be hurt in the long run.
He smiled at her from across the room. As he stalked toward her, slow and steady with sensual intent, she felt her core grow warm and begin to dampen. Her nipples puckered and chafed against her clothing as desire threatened to overwhelm her good sense. He extended his hand and helped her rise from her seat. “Good evening, Madame. You look stunni
ng as always.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” She curtsied. “Phillipe has made your usual arrangements if you will follow him.” She waved her liaison over.
“My Lord, if you please.” He bowed and gestured toward the stairs. Heart seemed confused for a moment, but then went along with Phillipe without issue. Marie returned to her seat for a few minutes before rising and retreating to her office. There, she slipped into the servants’ hall and scurried upstairs to their room.
Darting in through the door, she turned around and found Heart sitting by the fire sipping a brandy without his mask on. One sardonic brow lifted in response to her frenzied entry to the room. “I take it that little charade was done for my benefit?”
“Indeed. I did not warn you for fear you would object. After this morning’s gossip, we must be more circumspect. I will not meet with you in the salon any longer. You will come here in the future to meet with me.”
“Very well. If it soothes your concerns, then I will concede the point. But, not because I believe what we do matters one whit to anyone outside of this room. I’ll do it for you, Marie.” He set his glass down and gestured for her to come to him.
She sighed, but accepted his reluctant compliance with her wishes and joined him by the fire. “Thank you. Now, I have a little surprise planned for tonight.”
“What might that be?” He tugged her down in front of him and worked the pins from her hair, letting the heavy, silken strands cloud around her shoulders.
“Mmmm. I can’t remember with your hands in my hair like that.” She settled against his legs, enjoying the sensuous feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp. Relaxed and drifting she almost missed the soft click of the door closing. Heart remained oblivious, but her pulse raced as she anticipated his reaction.
Focused on the silky slide of his fingers through her hair and the retrieval of all the pins, it was rather shocking when a pair of hands slid down over Jonathan’s shoulders and a vaguely familiar feminine scent engulfed him. “What the devil?” He sat forward out of the woman’s reach.
Love Reclaimed Page 5
