All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  Unable to step away, Kitty could only stare up at him, trying to ignore the frisson of heat that blossomed between them at that slight contact, yet knowing somehow, she wanted to explore the promises his eyes held. His hands slid up her arms and neck before framing her face in his palms, his thumbs brushing her cheeks before one moved to caress her bottom lip. She couldn’t help but tremble at his intimate touch but knew it wasn’t fear that shook her, but anticipation. He was going to kiss her, she could see it in his eyes, as the golden eyes that had been so bright with amusement moments before now melted with heat.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered so softly that for a moment she wasn’t certain he’d heard her.

  Jack stared down into eyes as bright as springtime grass, noting the heat and awareness in them. His seduction was moving forward better than he might have hoped and he felt the urge to press on, to physically arouse her until she gave in, begging him to take her as his mistress. Though he had only known Kitty Hayes for three short days, he wanted her with the ferocity of a lifetime of yearning, a desire he felt was quite unmatched when compared to his previous conquests. He could have her too. Despite such short acquaintance, he knew with an instinct born of experience that she wanted him as well.

  What was holding him back from pushing on, he asked himself. Clearly, she wanted his kiss. He stroked his thumb across her silky soft cheeks once again, tempted beyond belief to take her and make her his own. Then, in an epiphany, it came to him. He knew what was different now, what held him back from Kitty Hayes. A fission of apprehension struck him.

  For this time, the seducer had become the seduced.

  Feeling a bit thunderstruck, Haddington took a step back. A scowl creased his forehead as the reality of the moment settled upon him. This was definitely unfamiliar territory for the earl, who had always held himself apart from his lovers, had kept his mind and heart free of entanglements while controlling the relationships he chose to involve himself in. He was the one in charge. The dominant one, who said when it began and when it ended. Suddenly he felt as if he had no control whatsoever. As if his lust were dominating him.

  “Jack?” Kitty questioned, with a matching frown now breaking the smooth line of her brow. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” he countered easily. “I just recalled an important meeting I need to get on to.”

  “Just now?” The reply held a bit of skeptical sarcasm, which he felt was more akin to his mannerisms than hers.

  Cursing himself for being a coward and a liar, Haddington bowed, taking her hand and kissing it elegantly as he withdrew, offering in a tone that seemed cavalier even to himself, “I apologize for my abrupt departure, but I must be off.” Regaining some control, he softened his tone with a more genuine smile. “Will you join me again tomorrow? I thought we might take a carriage to the Botanical Gardens. They are a must-see to visitors of our fair city.”

  Kitty eyed him with a raised brow, wondering at his demeanor that seemed to shift from seductive to standoffish to friendly. “Are you certain there is nothing wrong? I thought you were going to come up and meet my daughter?”

  Jack cursed once more in his mind. Bloody hell, he had promised, and if he didn’t go now, she would think he didn’t want to meet the wee lass, but if he did go it would make his lie of an urgent appointment ring more falsely than it already had. There was nothing for it. “Please give my regrets to wee Hannah. But I shall look forward to the opportunity to visit with her on the morrow after our excursion?”

  “Very well.” She sighed in disappointment, feeling certain Haddington was avoiding the meeting as she earlier expected. Still, it did not dampen her need to see him once more, though she would rather eat dirt than admit it. Keeping her voice polite and distant, she answered, “It is just as well, your sister is coming to take me shopping soon, so I must be off anyway. Shall we say ten tomorrow?”

  “I will see you then.” Jack rose from his slight bow, but his prey was already turning carelessly away, her long skirts swishing from side to side as she climbed the few stairs to the townhouse.

  Bugger it all to hell! The morning had taken him two steps forward, only to fall three steps back by his own idiocy.

  Chapter 13

  Silence may be as variously shaded as speech.

  ~ Edith Wharton

  Kitty was at a loss over what might be wrong with Jack. The earl had picked her up this morning in an open carriage promptly at ten, as promised. To hear Evie tell it, such an event was nearly unheard of, as punctuality was one of Haddington’s most acknowledged weak points. He had politely handed her up into the carriage, allowing her to settle her skirts before climbing up himself. Rather than sit next to her, however, he’d chosen to sit opposite her, though the carriage had plenty of room. After offering the most polite good mornings and compliments on her appearance, he had proceeded to ignore her completely.

  It hadn’t struck her directly. The morning air was crisp and clean and the views as they traveled north were very lovely, allowing her to catch her breath for the first time really since her shopping trip with Abby and Moira the previous day. They’d had a wonderful time, spending nearly the whole of the day moving from shop to shop, chatting and catching up. It hadn’t been until tea time that she’d been able to broach the truth of her arrival in Edinburgh and the need to keep her presence unknown. Her friends had been aghast for her, soothing her with their reassurances that, if they ever met her husband face to face, they would gladly give him some of his own. It had been so comforting to have their encouragement and support.

  Returning to Carlton Terrace, she had dined en famille with Eve and their two children, playing games with the pair until long after their normal bedtimes. Then she had played chess with her sister until late in the evening as her husband was still out of town. It hadn’t felt as if she’d had a moment to just relax at all until the gentle sway of the carriage this morning, and the beautiful views of the city, had lulled her. New York was a couple hundred years old, of course, but in comparison to Edinburgh could not match the aged loveliness of the buildings they passed, from churches to old shops to taverns. The businesses and townhomes lining the streets seemed to stretch before them as far as she could see, broken only by the occasional cathedral or park. It was a charming city and so very historically engaging that it had taken some time for Kitty to realize that her companion had yet to offer any conversation.

  She eyed him now, quizzically. He was so very handsome in the bright morning sun, though lacking the casual elegance of the previous day. The earl had once again gone through some effort to appear the well-turned-out gentleman, with his proper suit and hat. Today he wore a dark brown coat that contrasted against his amber vest and tie, and long brown trousers with a gold pinstripe. Upon his slicked-back hair, he wore a fashionable trilby hat of dark amber felt. He even carried a gold-topped cane. He appeared every inch the noble he was and, strangely, was acting the same way.

  “‘He had occasional flashes of silence that made his conversation perfectly delightful’,” she quoted as his silence grew over the space of more than ten minutes.

  “I’m sorry. What?” He frowned as her words drew his attention.

  She repeated herself and was rewarded with a reluctant smile and a shake of Haddington’s head.

  “My apologies, my love. I seem to be lost in thought this morning. Who, might I ask, spoke those insightful words?”

  “Sydney Smith,” she answered. “He was referring to Baron Macaulay when he spoke them, though they are much better directed to you this morning. Might I ask what draws your attention to the point of bad manners in ignoring your companion?”

  “My apologies for being such beastly company,” he responded. “Business, you know.”

  A lie, of course. He had been thinking about her, naturally, about his unusual responses toward her. How the norm for him felt anything but normal. He had also been dwelling on his more immediate problem, namely that of his estate and the deb
t he was very nearly buried under. His personal finances, those he had acquired before Cullen had died, were officially depleted upon paying the rents on his rooms that very morning. The funds from Lady Boughton, Abby’s grandmother, were all he had left between himself and complete destitution.

  Oh, he had been staying rent-free with Glenrothes at his townhouse until about six weeks past when his oldest friend had wed Evelyn, but certainly felt the fifth wheel after. He had excused himself and taken up rooms in a bachelor house not far from his sister’s home in Moray Place. Abby had offered him rooms there as well, but while staying with a good friend was one thing, taking charity from one’s younger sister was quite another. He had turned her down, determined to make do on his own, and thought he might manage it. Or rather, had hoped he might muddle through until a swift marriage was arranged. Though he had been resolute to see it done for the past several months, Haddington hadn’t been able to stomach the actuality of the solution, much as he admitted to Kitty the day they had met.

  The earl had attended any number of events since then, had mothers determined to catch a title for their daughters corner him into meeting said daughters, had the fathers approach him with settlement offers that would see him nicely through his problems, or at least see him clear through investing for the future. He had danced and dined with all of them.

  And offered for none.

  The problem, he felt, was the extreme youth of most heiresses with fortune enough to clear his debt. At three and thirty years, Jack simply couldn’t imagine taking for a wife a lass who was fifteen years younger than he. It made him feel like a randy old degenerate to even consider it. So, he had considered widows, as Evelyn had recently been, sure that a more mature woman might do much better for him. And she had been, until Francis had snapped Evelyn up, leaving him again on the hunt but coming up short of another widow of substance.

  Then Katherine Hayes had arrived. Jack eyed her now as she sat across from him waiting patiently for an explanation. What might he say to her? That he had come up with a wonderful plan to befriend and seduce her, in the hope of luring her into an alliance with him, but had never expected to want her so badly? It just wasn’t the sort of thing one might mention to a lady in polite conversation.

  “I have much on my mind because of it,” he offered at length.

  Her brow rose doubtfully, much as it had the previous day. “Would this be the same business which occupied you so yesterday?”

  “It is.”

  Kitty harrumphed in disbelief. “I’m sure it is.” The words held an edge of skepticism as she turned her head away to watch the city streets go by for a moment, before turning back to him. “Tell me, Jack Merrill, why it is you feel you must lie to me.”

  “I do not,” he answered, drawing himself up.

  “‘No one is such a liar as an indignant man’,” she promptly returned, quoting from Nietzsche.

  “I know that one, having just read from Beyond Good and Evil,” Jack answered with a wry grin. “Your sister actually recommended it. But no, in this I do not lie.”

  “Truly?” She was puzzled. “You tell me you like children and you want to meet my daughter, but you come up with a convenient excuse to leave before that?”

  “I do like children, and I would enjoy meeting your daughter,” he replied quickly, raising a haughty brow in return before solemnly crossing his heart. “That was no lie, I swear.”

  She fought to deny the corner of her lips to rise in a smile over his antics. “And this business? Are you going to tell me that you truly had a meeting yesterday?”

  He frowned, wondering how to swear to such a thing, before acknowledging he could not. Strange he might easily lie to every lass he met but he couldn’t look this woman in the eye and do the same. “Very well, I did not have a meeting.”

  “I knew it.” She smiled triumphantly. “Why did you rush off then?”

  Thinking a half-truth was better than none at all, Jack answered, “I left because I wanted to kiss you quite badly. Quite frankly, I wanted to do much more and felt that I shouldn’t rush such a thing, especially with a married woman, most particularly one I had just met and, though she may be pursuing a divorce, one who might not be interested in an affair or feel that same desire in return.”

  Kitty’s smile fled in the face of such ardent truths. That alluring heat was back in Jack’s eyes just as it had been for the better part of their excursion the previous day but now, she truly understood what it meant. He didn’t merely find her attractive, he wasn’t only flirting with her, and he didn’t only ‘like’ her as he had said. That was how she had always deciphered such looks from men in the past when she had flirted before and in the early years of her marriage. Light, playful. But that wasn’t all a look from this man held. No, Jack wanted her. He wanted her to be one of the bevy of women she had heard so much about from her sister and his.

  He wanted her in his bed.

  An image dashed through her mind before she could catch hold of it, leaving only an impression of heat, sweat and bodies entangled, and Kitty caught her breath. “Oh.”

  “That is all you have to say?”

  “Oh, my?”

  Jack threw back his head and laughed aloud. Her eyes widened upon viewing the thick column of his throat. The muscles flexed and tendons disappeared into the column of his shirt. The image brought with it an entirely new perspective of things. Suddenly, she found herself wondering what he looked like under those fancy clothes, when she had only before marveled how handsome he looked in them. Now she noticed the breadth of his chest and thickness of his thighs not with simple appreciation but…she wasn’t certain how to define it…speculation?

  “I didn’t think you might ever be struck speechless, my dear Kitty!” He laughed again. “Have you no comeback greater than that?”

  A smile did twist her lips now. “‘For what do we live, but to make sport of our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?’”

  Haddington’s brow creased as he thought this over for a moment before shaking his head in defeat. “You have me. Who wrote that?”

  “Jane Austen,” she answered, pleased that she had stumped him. “It’s from Pride and Prejudice.”

  “Ah, I should have known.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Romantic sop.”

  “It is not.” Her back straightened in defense of one of her favorite authors.

  “It is,” he insisted, calmly taking her hand. “Even your Mark Twain said as much. I think he said it was rubbish or some such, but please rest assured that I was not making sport of you, my love.” Jack kissed her hand with a glint in his molten gold eyes. “If the truth leaves you dumbstruck and speechless, you must know that you leave me the same way with alarming frequency.”

  A little shiver ran up her arm as the warmth from his lips penetrated her thin glove. She stared at him, accessing, searching for the truth but before she could respond, Jack raised his head, looking about. “We’re here at last.”

  Not waiting for the coachman, Jack opened the door and leapt down before turning to drop the step and offer Kitty his hand. “May I?”

  “Thank you, sir.” She smiled down at him as she pulled her skirts aside to descend the steps to the ground.

  The earl took both of her hands in his and held them wide, assessing her up and down. She was wearing a walking costume with a tight, waist-length cream colored jacket with black buttons up to her throat and black lace peeking out from the collar and cuffs, over a multi-tiered skirt of cream whose swooping scalloped layers were edged with black lace, each overlapping the next. A black lace bow on the side finished the skirt. With her matching hat and parasol, she was a picture of loveliness.

  “Did I mention that you look very lovely this morning? Most appropriate for the Botanic Gardens, my dear. Your skirt looks like the petals of a rose ready to blossom.”

  “My thanks once more, my lord.” She took his offered arm and grinned up at him, showing a slight dimple on one cheek. “Are we to walk from he
re?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Jack replied. “There are a dozen footpaths and bridges that we cannot see any other way.”

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  She gestured with her parasol for him to lead on and they wandered down the pathway into the gardens. All around there were lush profusions of springtime flowers just coming into bloom this time in late May. Their brilliant hues splashed against the green of the flowering shrubbery and lawns, to create a vivid mosaic of color.

  He led her down a path while her head turned this way and that, his silence allowing her the time to absorb it all. Across the lawns was a glimpse of a peaceful pond surrounded by trees, with its glass-like surface broken only by the ducks paddling their way along. A little waterfall trickled from one end, initiating a little brook crossed by the arching bridge they approached.

  Chapter 14

  “My goodness, Jack.” She sighed in appreciation at the fairy tale-like enchantment of the area. “It’s simply lovely! Why, look at all these flowers. There are many here I have never seen before.”

  “The botanists have been working on this for almost two hundred years, all told,” he informed her. “They travel the world and bring back anything new they might find and plant it all here. There are also hothouses for some of the more tropical specimens that are unsuited to our climate. They are farther along the way.”

  “You make it sound as if you know a bit about it.”

  “I suppose I do,” he sheepishly divulged with a grin. “This was one of my favorite places when I was lad. Father would come to town…he said to attend Parliament, but I would guess now it was to gamble. Mother would bring me here. It is one of my earliest memories of her. Then Judith would bring us,” he added, referring to his stepmother, Abby’s mother. “Occasionally I’ll bring Tristram and play catch with him.”