Miss Fortune's First Kiss (Fortunes of Fate Book 9)

by Annabelle Anders

  “I thank you for bringing the situation to my attention.” Jasper despised himself for not ridding the nursery of that woman earlier. Since then, the circles beneath Eloise’s eyes had lightened. She’d not awakened him to come to the nursery since Tilde’s first disastrous morning.

  “Perhaps the nightmares will not return.”

  They both sat in silence, the touch of their hands hardly more than a whisper. Sitting on the grass with her on a warm spring afternoon, he would not even attempt to deny, not only the desire, but the belonging he felt in that moment.

  He’d kissed her over a decade ago––and had remembered the night with more than a little fondness. More recently, he’d held her and kissed her in the Duke and Duchess of Marvelle’s garden. Ever since, he’d thought of nothing but making her his in every way. She’d become his mecca, his home.

  Jasper blinked at his ridiculous metaphors.

  He understood his lust for her all too clearly. The other emotions she aroused, however, left him muddled and confused.

  “I will not make any plans regarding the girls without discussing them first with you. You needn’t worry.” He’d reassure her whenever possible. He could not think of her as a woman, and neither could he treat her as an employee.

  But now more than ever, he couldn’t risk the girls well–being.

  “And I shall take your advice regarding my mother into consideration.”

  She nodded.

  And then the girls were running across the grass and the dog jumped up to greet them.

  “Now may we partake of our tea, Miss Fortune?” Eloise smoothed her pale blue dress. “Althea is simply starving after all this exercise.”

  “Do you want to eat, Peaches?” Althea’s voice was music to Jasper’s ears as she addressed Miss Fortune’s dog. It was a little higher sounding than Eloise’s. He’d heard it so rarely…

  “Won’t you join us, my lord?” Miss Fortune was already opening the basket and handing each of the girls a napkin. Jasper took the one she handed him and crawled onto all fours so that he could assist her.

  “What have we here? Crumpets and tea?”

  “Biscuits and lemonade.” A smiled danced on Miss Fortune’s lips as she withdrew a handful of small glasses. “And fruit. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.” And then she handed him the tin of cookies to divvy up amongst their party.

  “You know what, Papa?” Eloise nibbled on her cookie. “I don’t think ducks like little girls.”

  “It’s not the little girls that they swim away from, sweetheart. It is loud, very high-pitched noises that cause them to retreat.”

  “Like when I screamed?”

  Miss Fortune met his smile with one of her own.

  “Like when you scream,” he agreed.

  Chapter 12

  Capitulation

  Tilde sat up at the scream from the room next door. Was it Eloise or Althea?

  She fumbled her way through the dark to the adjoining door. She’d so hoped the nightmares had gone away completely.

  Moonlight shining through the window slanted across the bed where Althea had curled into a tiny ball and was crying uncontrollably. The sight was enough to draw tears to Tilde’s own eyes, but she stifled them. The situation required calm assurances and empathy. Her own loss of composure would hardly diffuse Althea’s fears.

  Tilde maneuvered herself over to the girl’s side, but as she wrapped her arms around Althea, she heard a sniffle from across the room. Eloise was watching from the other bed with her tiny arms hugging her knees to her chest.

  “All is well, little Thea. Wake up love. It isn’t real. Can you wake up for me, love?” Perspiration drenched Althea’s tiny body, and she trembled uncontrollably. Tilde rocked her back and forth.

  So intent was Tilde on the child that she hadn’t realized the door opened until flickering candlelight caught her eye.

  “When did it start?” Jasper’s voice managed to relieve some of Tilde’s own concern.

  She had been caring for children for what felt like most of her life, and yet relief swept through her at the knowledge that she was not to cope with such troubling emotions alone.

  “Not long ago. I came as soon as it began.”

  After setting the candle on one of the bedside tables, he dropped onto the other side of the bed and stroked his daughter’s hair. “I’m here, little one. And so is Miss Fortune. You’ve nothing to be afraid of, you know?”

  “Peaches.” Althea mumbled into Tilde’s nightgown.

  “Was the monster lady screaming at Peaches?” Even in the dimly lit room, Tilde could see that Eloise’s eyes resembled large saucers.

  Althea nodded, her face still tucked beneath Tilde’s chin.

  The girls’ exchange sent shivers racing down Tilde’s spine. “Go to your Papa, sweetie and I’ll be right back.”

  Jasper reached forward, and while gathering Althea into his arms, brushed his hands along Tilde’s front, grazing her breasts. She shivered at his touch, innocent though it was, and then chastised herself for her response. A child was feeling distressed. A child that was in her care.

  Ashamed, she lurched off the bed and rushed through the connecting door into her own chamber. Going directly to her bed, she pulled the coverlet down and felt around for Peaches, who, likely having heard the distress coming from the room next door, was already awake.

  “Thea needs you, baby.” Tilde said, scooping her pup into her arms.

  As soon as Peaches hopped into Althea’s lap, the little girl’s trembling eased.

  “See, Peaches is just fine. I’d never let anyone hurt my favorite puppy in the whole world, nor,” Tilde glanced from Eloise to Althea. “Either of my favorite little girls.”

  And easy as that, Althea climbed back under the covers, Peaches crawling in beside her.

  “Can Peaches sleep with Thea?” Eloise asked the question for her sister.

  Tilde met Jaspers gaze from across the bed and shrugged. “It’s fine by me, as long as you don’t object.”

  Jasper ran one hand through his hair and sighed. The two very good friends snuggled peacefully where only moments before had been terror. “How could I object to so much love?”

  Tilde smiled and then moved to go back to her own chamber when a tiny hand clasped her wrist. Large eyes stared up at her. Tilde needed no words in order to know the question behind them.

  “Thea wants you and Papa to stay until she falls asleep.” Eloise had climbed back under her own blanket but was still communicating for her sister.

  Jasper leaned against the headboard, lifted his feet onto the bed and crossed them at the ankles. He’d obviously been through this routine before. “I’ll stay, Thea. No need for Miss Fortune to miss out on her sleep as well.”

  But he sounded… lonely.

  Tilde made herself comfortable on the chair beside the bed, going so far as to tuck her feet beneath her. Jasper’s questioning eyes reminded her a little of his daughter’s own silent plea.

  “I’ll stay a while too.” And in the flickering light of the candle, their gazes locked and held.

  Was it possible to see into another person’s soul? To know not only their thoughts, but to feel what they feel, what they need? She’d never felt so… connected to another person. It made no sense, and yet it was the most natural thing she’d ever experienced.

  And when she was with him, she felt every breath of air go into her lungs and fill her body with life. Every touch reminded her she was a part of something much larger than herself. The world was a richer place, and her very reason for being suddenly had meaning.

  Staring down at Thea, she marveled at the intimacy of such a night.

  “It’s nice to not be alone in this.” His words startled her from her thoughts. His wife must have sat with him before she became ill; leaving him solely responsible for his daughter’s well-being, leaving him with no one to share his concerns, his fears.

  Only on this night, he had her.

  “I cannot imagine the he
artbreak you’ve experienced.” He didn’t respond but stared across at her again and then dropped his gaze to his daughter’s tousled head. His girls were so very beautiful and yet so very fragile.

  “Thank you,” he finally whispered.

  Tilde glanced up from Althea, whose breathing was now even and deep, and met his gaze. Those silken strands that had wound around her eleven years ago had thickened into ropes. And as the ropes tightened, she struggled to hold anything back from him.

  Was it possible that she loved him?

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. I cannot love him! It was impossible. Focus on the children––Tomorrow’s lesson plan –– anything but the sensation that her heart was betraying her in the worst possible way…

  I cannot love him!

  Tilde woke with a start as she was lifted into the air. “What are you…”

  “Hush.” Jasper carried her out of the nursery and through the door to her own chamber. “Both girls have been sleeping for a while. Thea won’t relinquish your pup, however.”

  Tilde could not remember the last time another person had deigned to carry her. Uncertainty had her clutching her arms around his neck in surprise. “You don’t have to…”

  He only held her tighter as he turned and managed to close the door behind them.

  “Oh, Jasper.” Did he not know what his nearness did to her? But by now he was already lowering her onto the high bed he’d selected for her suite.

  She expected him to bid her goodnight or thank her. She expected anything but for him to remain standing by the bed, watching her in the moonlight with a dark intensity.

  “My heartbreak.” He began before looking to stare toward the window. “Was for what should have been. I was not heartbroken when she died. I was… relieved.” The words surprised her.

  When he turned to gaze down at her again, he seemed to be waiting for her to rebuke him.

  Tilde sat up so she could see him better. “Did you not love her?”

  He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “I loved her. She was my wife. I was never in love with her. And in the end, I found myself resenting her.” The darkness seemed to invite his confidences. She doubted he’d ever admitted so much to anyone else.

  “You resented her for being ill?”

  “I resented her for disparaging herself. First for not getting with child quickly enough, as though it was something she had any control over. And then for delivering girls instead of an heir. As time wore on, it became her obsession. Even after she became ill…”

  Some understanding dawned in Tilde at this information. “She did not love Althea and Eloise? Her own daughters?”

  Jasper shook his head sadly. “Perhaps she loved them, but… She never showed it if she did.” And in that moment, she saw his pain. Not for himself, but for his daughters who’d needed their mother. For all the disillusionment he’d experienced in his marriage. A pain he hid from the world.

  Yes, he was a lord, one of London’s most elite. But he was also just a man. One who had refused to allow his daughters to feel neglected. He worried over their upbringing, forfeited the libertine life many of his ilk took for granted, and tormented himself over his daughters’ fears.

  Tilde leaned forward and then knelt on the edge of the mattress. When she reached out for him, he did not hesitate to walk into her embrace. And then she was in his arms, and he in hers.

  “Tilde.” His voice broke as his lips claimed hers.

  The first kiss had been magical. Their second one had been devastating.

  This kiss?

  It unleashed the passion that had been denied for far too long. It was raw, desperate. Some rational part of her brain panicked. He was her employer! An earl! This could only lead to disaster. But her body refused to listen. Her need for him took over.

  Without breaking the kiss, Jasper crawled onto the bed and hovered over her. And then his body lowered so that she could feel the strength of his thighs, the hardness of his chest, and the intensity of his arousal.

  She exulted in his weight as it pressed her into the soft mattress and welcomed the warmth of his body entangled with hers.

  A few mere wisps of fabric prevented skin from touching skin. He wore only a dressing gown and night shirt. And she wore only her night rail. His hands had managed to slide beneath it to trail along her leg.

  Tilde had long ago determined she’d remain a spinster. She’d given up on the notion of experiencing physical love. She’d convinced herself that it wasn’t something she needed in order to have a fulfilling existence.

  But as he touched her, she came alive in a way she’d never imagined.

  Hunger.

  Her body hungered for…

  Before she could even complete the thought, her knees fell open so that Jasper could settle between them.

  Her body hungered for this. For him. She hungered to take him inside of her.

  In her mouth, to her breasts, into her very core.

  And God help her, but she wanted to be conquered. She wanted to belong to a man––belong to him.

  “Tilde.” Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. She opened her eyes when his mouth left hers.

  Lifting onto his elbows, he studied her questioningly. He caressed her with his thumb: the side of her face, the corner of her eye, the ridge of her cheek. “I’ve ached for you.” He shook his head, as though perplexed by—this.

  His thumb grazed along her lower lip. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do just this.” He replaced his thumb with his mouth, a tender touch, a caress. Then he was driving deeper so that he could taste behind her teeth, searching, exploring.

  Dear God but he’d conquered her—not with power or strength—but with tender need.

  Adoration.

  “I’ve been wanting to taste you everywhere.”

  She arched her back. When she let out a small cry, he captured it with his mouth.

  His need for her had become an exquisite pain. And now to allow it free reign, God help him, but a ridiculous urge to weep swept through him.

  He’d had urges, physical needs, but not sought out a means to satisfy them. He’d told himself it had been too soon. Perhaps he’d been fooling himself.

  He’d wanted something magic. Tilde’s name and face may not have been in the forefront of his memory, but he’d never forgotten the feelings he’d experienced that long-ago evening at Vauxhall.

  He’d known there could be more.

  And that something more was currently writhing beneath him, igniting the passion he’d been holding back.

  He buried his head in her neck, inhaling the fresh scent of woman. Of this woman. He should resist her. Resist his desire. As these thoughts darted through his mind, his hand explored the tantalizing skin of her inner thigh.

  She was an unmarried gentlewoman, gone into service. And her skin tasted like heaven.

  She was his employee—whose silken hair fell between his fingers.

  But most importantly of all, she was Tilde. She’d always been his magic. She’d always been his. And in that moment, rational thought ceased to exist. He needed her like a man in the desert required water.

  He could not wait any longer. He could not stop. He’d not joined with a woman in nearly four years. Every ounce of blood he possessed had surged in a southerly direction.

  As his fingers dared to part her feminine folds, he found her to be warm and slick.

  “Tilde.” He caught his breath. “You are untouched.” Because she’d never married. She was a virtuous woman. And yet he watched her eyes while his hand touched her intimately. Even in the moonlight, he could see her pupils grow, making the greens and browns appear almost black.

  “Tell me to stop,” he groaned.

  Her lips parted in a gasp as he pushed away his dressing gown and settled against her.

  “I want this.” She closed her eyes at the admission. “For so long.”

  He could no more deny the plea in her voice than he could
deny that he’d wanted this since the moment she fell into that ridiculous tent.

  But still, he knew this would not be easy for her.

  “Tilde.” Her name was a question. She nodded. “Stop me if…”

  “Jasper.” She almost sounded exasperated with him at this point. “Please.”

  Warm arms and legs embracing him. Silken heat beckoning his cock. He slid forward. When he met resistance, he inhaled and then broke through on a hiss.

  Her arms tightened around his neck.

  “I’m sorry.” God, he remembered how Estelle had screamed and wept. He froze, hovering above this woman, awaiting her rebukes and curses.

  None came.

  “Tilde.” He needed to see her face. Did she hate him? What had he done?

  He drew back.

  “Don’t stop, Jasper.” Her legs tightened around him. “Oh, please. Don’t stop.”

  Chapter 13

  Consequences

  He’d stayed with Tilde until just before sunup. He’d been tempted to make love to her again but then punished himself for his selfishness.

  The memory of her blood mingled with his seed stirred mixed emotions inside of him. She was not a young girl, a debutante, and yet she’d been an innocent. She’d given herself to him freely, holding nothing back. And, just as when he’d kissed her, he’d experienced both excitement and familiarity. He’d felt that joining with her had been something of a homecoming.

  As he recalled the soft sounds of her cries, panting into his mouth, he found himself wanting her again already.

  She’d reached for him in her sleep as he crawled from the bed. Unwinding her arms from around his neck, he’d taken a moment to share one last lingering kiss and crept from the room.

  Years before he had married a duke’s daughter and found a relative amount of contentment. But he later experienced pain he could not have imagined. He’d experienced guilt for not loving Estelle the way he’d wanted to.

  He was determined to do things differently the second time around.