Regency Scandals: Touch Me, Tempt Me & Take Me Box Set

by Lucy Monroe

  "I was trying to protect your reputation," he explained, "We had already danced twice."

  And they had disappeared into the garden together, not to mention the fact that Beatrice had overheard the Angel ask him to dance. Her standing among the ton would take a beating as it was. He had refused to add to it by giving further cause for speculation by dominating her company for the rest of the ball like he had wanted to.

  She lowered her gaze to his cravat. "I thought my wanton manners had given you a disgust of me."

  The words came out in a low whisper and he had almost missed them.

  How could she have thought that when she was the innocent one? "No."

  "I cannot kiss you again," she blurted out, without a bit of her usual aplomb, once again looking into his eyes.

  In her distress, hers had turned the color of the elusive blue rose.

  She was right. Curse it. "It would be for the best."

  A brief flicker of disappointment shown in her eyes before she once again took on the appearance of a marble statue. "Yes."

  He took a deep breath and let it out. "Do you want me to apologize?"

  "For ignoring me?"

  "For kissing you," he said with some exasperation.

  For just a moment she lost her mask and pain showed in her eyes before she stepped further away from him. "Are you sorry?"

  "No, but I should be."

  "Please. Don’t apologize."

  "All right." It would be a lie anyway and he hated deceit of any kind.

  He was not sorry he had kissed her. His only regret was that he could not do so again. He could not allow his desire to cloud his thinking where she was concerned. Hannah’s happiness was too important.

  She picked up shears from a bench and proceeded to concentrate on cutting several blossoms. She took great care choosing the blooms and did not speak as she did so.

  He had watched the delicate move of her hands as she completed her task for a long time before he reminded himself that he had a purpose to his visit and it wasn’t soaking in her beauty. "You and Clairborne had no children."

  Her hands convulsed and she lost her grip on the shears. They clattered to the ground, narrowly missing her toes.

  He swore, but she paid him no heed. "No."

  She was back to those annoying monosyllables. They told him nothing. Then he saw the drops of red staining her light muslin gown.

  "Bloody hell." He grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand to better inspect the source of the blood. "You’re bleeding."

  She looked down at her hand as if she had not realized she had injured herself. "It is only a prick. Do not concern yourself." She tried to pull her hand from his grasp.

  He didn’t let go, but lifted the finger to his lips and sucked at the small wound. The salty taste of her blood mixed with the sweetness of her skin and he longed to suck her entire finger into his mouth. She gasped softly and she stopped trying to pull away.

  With a great effort of will, he kept her finger pressed to his mouth and did not give in to his urge. He looked into her eyes. She stood motionless, just as she had sat in perfect stillness earlier in the parlor. As if she waited for him.

  Regardless of what she said, she wanted him to kiss her as much as he wanted to taste her sweet, hot mouth.

  The sound of approaching footsteps stopped him. He released her hand. It had stopped bleeding.

  The proper butler he had met upon arriving, entered the conservatory. "Your grace, Mrs. Abercrombie requests the pleasure of your company in the drawing room."

  He made it clear he thought Jared had overstayed the time allowed for a gentleman to call upon a lady – even a widow.

  Calantha picked up the roses she had cut, wrapped them in a tea towel from the table and handed them to him. "Please take these to Lady Ashton with my regards."

  She was dismissing him. He briefly considered staying and intruding on her visit with the vicar’s wife, but decided against it. He had thinking to do, away from this sharp desire that plagued him whenever she was near.

  ***

  The flowers touched Irisa and she went so far as to remind Jared that she had said Calantha was kind. He didn’t make the mistake of agreeing or disagreeing. If he agreed, his sister would take that as further evidence of his serious intentions toward the duchess. If he disagreed, his pregnant sister was likely to get testy.

  Personally, he found the duchess a mass of contradictions.

  She had implied that the status of her title had made up for any problems in her marriage, but she did not live like a duchess now. She said she didn’t want to kiss him again and then froze into immobility at his slightest touch, her feminine desire lapping at him like the waves against the shore.

  And she had impaled herself on a thorn when he mentioned children, her complexion turning the color of the White Rose of York. That worried him. Why had the comment upset her so much?

  Many ladies of the ton did not conceive immediately and her marriage had lasted only two short years. Would she be jealous of the existence of Hannah? Would she resent the little girl he loved like a daughter? He hated the idea that Calantha could be capable of cruelty inspired by such a petty emotion, but there was still a great deal he did not know or understand about her.

  She hid too much of herself behind the emotionless mask of her beauty. Except when they had kissed.

  She hadn’t been able to hide her response or her innocence from him then. He knew some men reserved passion for their mistresses and coupled with their wives only long enough to insure their seed taking root. Clairborne must have been just such an idiot because Calantha had been too untutored in the art of kissing and the pleasure it brought to have received that kind of affection from her dead husband.

  She hadn’t been able to mask her reaction to him today either. She wanted him. Maybe as much as he wanted her.

  How would the ton react if the Angel had an affair with Lord Beast?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Jared came to call on you today."

  The sound of Lady Ashton’s cheerful tones lowered in obvious inquiry forced Calantha’s attention away from her surreptitious study of Jared. He was in fine form tonight, his black evening clothes fitting his muscular body like a second skin. The scar on his face lent an air of danger to him and Calantha knew that danger to be real. Very real.

  Had she not intended to stay home tonight? Yet, she had found herself dressing for the musicale under a strange compulsion she had been unable to resist, a compulsion to see Jared just one more time.

  She turned her gaze to Lady Ashton. "Yes."

  "I’m glad."

  Calantha did not know how to respond to that, so she remained silent.

  "He isn’t very social. In fact, I was shocked when he agreed to come to my house party." Lady Ashton’s gaze took on a considering quality. "Actually, now that I think about it, he didn’t say he was coming until I mentioned you were my neighbor and had planned to attend some of the entertainments."

  Calantha dismissed the possibility that Jared had come to the house party solely to see her. They had never met before and to her knowledge, she had never even seen him in Town during the Season. "I’m sure the prospect of seeing his family was sufficient inducement."

  If she didn’t know better, Calantha would have thought the other woman snorted.

  Lady Ashton’s warm brown eyes were definitely filled with humor when she spoke. "Don’t you believe it. Jared hates socializing and he wouldn’t be here unless he had a good reason for it. At first, I thought he wanted help with Hannah, but that was a silly idea. My brother is nothing if not self-confident. He probably thinks he has all the answers to raising a little girl alone."

  Calantha made a noncommittal sound while her mind tried to make sense of what the other woman was saying. Jared had a child?

  "He certainly hasn’t asked Thea for a bit of advice. Unlike me." Lady Ashton gave a rueful laugh. "I’m a nervous wreck about having my first child. Thea and Lucas insist I’ll be
a wonderful mother, but they love me."

  Calantha felt the familiar, but muted, sense of loss whenever the subject of children arose. She would never be a mother, had never had the opportunity to be one. After all, there had only been one virgin birth in history and it had been to a woman much more worthy than she.

  "I’m certain they are right," she said in an attempt to soothe Lady Ashton, "Mama once told me that she feared motherhood right up until she gave birth. She said that the moment she saw me, she knew everything would be all right."

  Soft brown eyes filled with gratitude. "Oh, do you think it will be like that for me too?"

  Calantha found herself nodding. "I’m sure of it."

  It had become more and more difficult to maintain an air of polite distance with others since meeting Jared. It was as if the affect he had on her senses touched her relationships with others as well.

  "Thank you. Thea can’t really understand. I don’t think she’s ever been frightened of anything in her whole life. She’s just so efficient. I think she knew just what kind of mother she would be from the moment she realized she had conceived." Suddenly Lady Ashton’s face turned pink with embarrassment. "I can’t imagine what I think I’m doing discussing something of such an intimate nature with you. You must not take offense. Lucas says that I have a terrible tendency to speak without thinking, now that I’m not trying so very hard to be the perfect paragon. I can’t even imagine how I got started on this subject, anyway."

  Calantha knew. The other woman’s earlier words were still burning a path through her brain. "I believe you were mentioning that your brother had not asked for advice regarding the raising of his daughter alone."

  "Oh, Hannah isn’t Jared’s daughter," Lady Ashton flipped open her fan and waved it industriously in front of her face, "It’s a bit warm in here isn’t it?"

  Calantha hadn’t found it so, but then she was so rarely warm. "Perhaps your condition has made you more sensitive," she said in an attempt to allay the other woman’s fears of speaking about such a subject.

  Clairborne would have been outraged, but she no longer had to worry about his reactions and that truth was just beginning to make itself felt inside of her.

  Lady Ashton smiled. "I’m sure you are right. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Hannah belonged to his housekeeper, but Mary died of a fever a few months ago and she didn’t have a husband. Jared has taken on the responsibility of raising her daughter. He’s adored the little girl since birth. You should see them together. It’s really very sweet."

  Calantha felt as if an iron fist squeezed her heart. Jared had a daughter. His sister denied it naturally, but why else would he take such a personal interest in the child of one of his servants? She didn’t know why, but the knowledge hurt her. She felt a rush of envy that took her breath away. What she would not give to have been in the housekeeper’s place and given birth to Jared’s child.

  She nearly fainted from the outrageous direction of her thoughts and almost missed his sister’s next words.

  "Now that I’ve seen him with you, I understand."

  As had happened many times in the past when speaking with Lady Ashton, Calantha found herself confused. "Excuse me?"

  "I understand why he’s come to my house party," she said, and laid her hand on Calantha’s arm, "I really am glad."

  Calantha did not know what she would have said to Lady Ashton if Jared had not arrived at that moment. "Irisa, your butler is looking for you. Something about the buffet."

  Lady Ashton gave them both a serene smile, winked at her brother and went to find the butler.

  Calantha watched the other woman’s progress across the room. She stopped to smile and chat with several people, reminding Calantha of a rather friendly butterfly.

  "You’re sister is a very kind woman."

  "She says the same about you."

  "She thinks you came to her house party in order to have the opportunity to meet me," she said to show that his sister’s judgment wasn’t always sound.

  "I did."

  Shock reverberated through her and Calantha could not get enough air. "Why?" she asked starkly.

  "Come riding with me tomorrow morning and I’ll explain."

  How could she go with him, but then how could she not? She could no more deny him than she had been able to deny herself the opportunity to see him tonight. "All right."

  A footman came by and said the entertainment was about to start. Jared escorted Calantha to a chair in the back of the room. "I thought you weren’t coming tonight."

  She clutched her fan tightly in both hands. "I changed my mind."

  "I see."

  Perhaps he did see...if he had come to the house party only to meet her. As impossible as she found it to believe, perhaps this strange compulsion that plagued her beset him as well.

  "Will you have Hannah with you tomorrow?" She did not know what had prompted her to ask the question.

  Of course he would not bring a child along on their ride. He wanted to discuss things of an intimate nature, but she wanted to prod him into talking about his daughter.

  He stiffened beside her and his face took on a chillingly, remote expression. "What do you know about Hannah?"

  "Your sister said that you are raising her."

  His expression did not lighten. "That’s right, but I won’t have her with me tomorrow."

  She drew back mentally from the coldness in his eyes. "Perhaps I will meet her another time."

  He looked at her as if he were weighing her worthiness. "Maybe."

  ***

  The next morning, Jared arrived early and helped her mount her sweet little chestnut mare before leaping astride his own magnificent horse, a steel gray stallion of the same massive proportions as his master. Contrary to his promise of the night before that he would explain his enigmatic statement, Jared discouraged any sort of discussion by the simple method of leading her on a fast-paced, challenging ride through the country.

  Calantha used the time of silence to think. Not that she hadn’t already chewed endlessly on what Jared’s words had meant.

  One other gentleman had made a similar claim to the one Jared had made the night before. Clairborne had told her during their courtship that he had attended the rather boring little ball thrown by his social inferiors because he knew she would be there. He had seen her in the park and wanted to meet the Angel. She had been foolish enough to be flattered.

  Did Jared see only her angelic looks as well? Worse, would he expect perfect behavior because of them as Clairborne had?

  He already knew that she was not perfect, she reminded herself. After all, she had allowed him to kiss her, had in fact invited his kiss. She had also entertained him in her home without her maid present. Was it possible that a man as strong as Jared could overlook her cowardly actions of the past as well? She could not stifle the tiny flicker of hope that ignited in her heart.

  After half an hour, they came upon a small stream running through a flower-speckled meadow.

  Jared reined in and dismounted. He dropped the horse’s leads and the animal immediately headed for the stream. Calantha had stopped as well, but didn’t know what to do about dismounting. There was no handy stump nearby and her voluminous riding skirts made the prospect of leaping from her mare’s back daunting. Jared solved her dilemma by gripping her waist with both hands and swinging her down before she could even gasp, much less voice an objection at his forward behavior.

  Not that she would have anyway, she acknowledged as she landed on her feet a few inches from his broad chest. She had no self-control when it came to Jared’s touch and she was too honest to lie to herself and deny it. From the very first, it had been so different than anything she had experienced with her husband that she had found Jared and the odd feelings she felt around him irresistible.

  She looked at him, drinking in his presence as thirstily as she craved his touch.

  He wore a riding coat, but no waistcoat and she could see the dark shadow of his hair under
the fine lawn of his shirt. He hadn’t bothered with a cravat either and the strong column of his neck was exposed to her view. His utter masculinity, so different from the other gentlemen she had known, entranced her.

  "Now we talk," he said as he stepped away.

  She nodded, noting absently that her mare had left her to join the stallion drinking from the brook.

  Jared peeled off his coat and laid it on the soft grass. "Sit down."

  She obeyed without speaking because the sight of his body clad in only the fine lawn of his shirt and tight riding breeches had left her speechless. She tucked the skirts of her peacock blue riding habit around her legs, careful not to expose so much as a hint of skin above her short riding boots. The stiffened silk rustled, but did not stifle her in the summer heat.

  He sat down next to her and she had to twist her body to see his face. What she saw there made her want to turn back around and hide her own expression of nervous anticipation. Jared looked ready to do battle, not discuss the intimacies of a man-woman relationship.

  She could not help the nervous tingle that skittered up her spine.

  "A little over four years ago, you had a woman named Mary working at Clairborne Park."

  The words so shocked her that she tried to assimilate their meaning in the context of her meeting with Jared. Then she remembered that Lady Ashton had said his housekeeper’s name had been Mary. It was such a common name; surely they were not the same woman. Besides her Mary, had been much too young to be anyone’s housekeeper and she had been a lady's companion, not a domestic servant.

  "I guess you don’t remember her." Jared’s voice was laced with disgust, his eyes unreadable and cold.

  "Yes. I remember her, but she didn't work at the Park. She was a companion to the dowager duchess. She left unexpectedly several months before my husband died in a riding accident."

  He had been riding another man’s wife and died at the hands of a jealous husband, but she saw no reason to mention that fact. His brother had seen that it had all been hushed up and the jealous husband had left for the colonies.