Far Too Tempted (19 page)

What these important men were up to was the question.

Hell, Alex mused darkly, it had been too easy to find this secret meeting place. Whatever the purpose of this group his brother belonged to, their subterfuge was second-rate at best. If he could discover them so quickly, so could someone else.

That was one mystery solved.

If one knew the identities of the members, of even one of the members, he could follow them and find out their meeting spot with little trouble. However, if this group was so secret that even Alex couldn’t know their purpose, how did the killer know and why would he want to murder them?

Moving up a little farther and loitering against the side of the building, he prayed inwardly this meeting wouldn’t take very long. All eight of the remaining members had arrived independently, but hopefully the departure wouldn’t be such a long process. Alex simply didn’t have the time.

One shoulder propped against a crumbling doorjamb, he waited, stifling the impatience that seemed to flow in the very blood moving through his veins.

Damn it, he thought, hurry.

After all, it was his wedding day.

Maybe it was a mistake, but she’d sent word to Rebecca. Whatever Jessica now thought of Nathaniel Greene, his sister was her best friend in the world.

At the moment, a friend would have been welcome indeed.

The presence of neither her groom, his witness nor her attendant of choice at the chapel began to chafe on nerves already raw with the events of the past days. Hands smoothing the material of her sumptuous dress, she paced across the stone floor and tried to keep her breathing at a normal pace. The air smelled dry and a little musty, the thick walls around her closing out the outside world and all sense of reality.

In a few minutes she was supposed to become the wife of Lord Alexander Ramsey.

If, of course, her promised husband appeared for the ceremony.

Alex was decidedly late.

Ariel whirled into the tiny vestibule of the chapel in a furious spray of pale green silk skirts. Her hair was upswept, letting tiny copper ringlets frame her face, and her green eyes glittered with anger. She said tightly, “They aren’t here, either of them.”

Jessica swallowed. “Rebecca?”

Ariel’s expression softened a fraction. “Sorry, no. She hasn’t made an appearance either.”

Her shoulders lifted in what she hoped looked like a shrug. She’d been hopeful.

Ariel bit out, “When I get a hold of Marcus, he will wish he’d never been born. I have a burning desire to wring his tardy neck.”

“Do you really think you’re a match for me, my dear?”

The surge of relief that rushed over Jessica and the sound of the deep, teasing voice made her realize she’d been holding her breath. The tall Duke of Grayston’s entry into the small room made it seem even smaller. He towered over his wife, an apologetic smile hovering on his well-shaped lips. “Both Alex and I were delayed, arriving back at the house simultaneously. We changed in record time.”

The duchess looked up at her husband and gave an audible sniff. “Being delayed is not permitted on your wedding day and I’m going tell Alex so the minute I lay eyes on him.”

“He’s just outside, my dear. Fire away, but please remember the poor fellow is wallowing in nerves.”

Alex as anything but lazily self-possessed was nearly impossible to imagine. Jessica smoothed her damp hands across her skirts again. He was just outside, waiting to wed her. After a sleepless night and much introspection, that notion had begun to take on a certain fatal reality. She said in a halting request, “If he is just outside, could we have a moment together, please? I need to speak with him. Before.”

Ariel registered proper horror, her green eyes widening. “Absolutely not. It isn’t done, Jessica.”

“It’s necessary.”

Marcus seemed to understand the plea in her voice for his eyes narrowed slightly as he met her gaze and he took his wife’s arm. “It seems to me a lot of things aren’t supposed to be done that should be. I’ll send him in. Come on, my dear.”

As they exited, Jessica could still hear Ariel protesting and Marcus’s soothing replies. There was only one tiny diamond-shaped window lighting the space and she paced toward it, seeing the dying afternoon sunshine through a glitter of brilliant glass. Seconds later she heard the scrape of feet on stone.

“Jess?”

Taking a deep breath, she turned around. Alex stood just inside the doorway. He was wearing his full dress uniform, even to the sword at his side. Red jacket, white breeches molded to his muscular thighs, polished boots. His head was bare and his blond hair waved back and curled becomingly around his ears. Those eyes—so very blue—seemed to look right through her.

She somehow couldn’t find her voice.

“My God, Jess.” His stare intensified as his gaze swept up and down. “You’re so beautiful.”

It was flattering and unsettling at the same time. For a long, seemingly endless moment, they looked at each other across the space, and her breath fluttered in her throat as she recognized the leaping flame in his eyes.

Whatever else lay between them, she knew he desired her. The way he had kissed her that night in the Grayston garden had taught her that.

Desire was something.

But she needed more.

She said unevenly, “It’s Ariel’s dress…not me.”

“On the contrary. You look like a dream come true.”

A perfect opening. She asked wistfully, “Do I? What dream is that, Alex?”

“Can’t you guess?” The question was soft and his hand dropped in an obviously unconscious natural mannerism to the hilt of his sword.

Jessica slowly shook her head, her hair moving sensuously across her shoulders. She’d chosen to wear it loose and down her back, swept back with nothing but two pearl-crusted combs that had belonged to her mother—about all she had left—just above her ears.

Alex took a step into the room, still holding her gaze. “We’ve guests waiting, my dear. Not to mention the bishop, whom Marcus insisted on dragging away from his schedule to give our marriage the stamp of approval from the church. Can we finish our discussion afterwards?”

“No, we can’t.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I cannot marry you until you promise me something.”

His nostrils flared slightly and his gaze sharpened. “What?”

“That you will be faithful to me once our vows are spoken.”

The muscles in his face tightened but that was his only visible reaction. “Don’t insult me. That’s what wedding vows are, Jess.”

“A promise of fidelity?” Her laugh was light and brittle, born of nervousness. “Please, Alex, we both know how much most gentlemen honor that particular vow.”

“I will.”

The conviction in his voice and the look in those incredible eyes made her heart twist sharply in her chest. Her breathing suddenly seemed to go awry.

He meant it. At least at that very important moment in her life, she was sure she heard conviction in his voice.

He held out his hand. “Now, enough. Come with me, little Jess.”

She went.

Jack Rivers handed him the ring and somehow Alex managed to fumble it onto Jessica’s slim finger and to stammer out the appropriate words.

They were wed. His whole world had changed.

Someone spoke, the words echoing dimly in the vaulted sanctuary, as if the man saying them stood far, far away instead of a mere foot or so. For a long heartbeat, all Alex could do was look at the upturned face of the woman standing at the altar with him. If a man was supposed to think his bride the most beautiful woman on earth, then he certainly adhered to tradition. A vision in white satin and pearls, her lustrous hair gleaming gold and sable in the candlelight, Jessica stood looking back at him with luminous silver eyes. Everything about her, the soft, soft curve of her lips, the graceful arch of cheekbone and throat, the womanly swell of her hips and breasts under the concealing material of the rich gown, all of it drew him, but nothing so much as the vulnerability that shone in her gaze.

She had just spoken the words before God and man and given herself, body and soul, to him.

It awed him in a way he’d never imagined.

From a far distant place came the sound of someone clearing his throat. “My lord?”

Jessica’s tongue stole out and moistened her lips. Her hands trembled in his grasp.

Next to him, Jack nudged his side with a discreet dig of an elbow.

“You may kiss your bride.”

The loudly spoken declaration broke through his distraction, bringing the realization that while he’d been gaping at his new wife, everyone had been waiting for him to seal their vows in the most pleasant possible way.

He lowered his head very slowly and he saw Jessica’s eyes widen before he claimed her lips in a deliberately long and sensuous kiss. When he broke away finally, he could hear someone, no doubt his brother, chuckling from one of the pews. Jack, too, was laughing.

Alex glanced over at the bishop and grinned. “I intended to all along, sir, as you can see.”

That gentleman looked slightly scandalized. “Er…indeed. Congratulations to both of you.”

“Thank you.” Turning and tucking Jessica’s hand into the crook of his arm, he escorted her down the steps. The next few minutes were a whirl of handshakes and joyful embraces. Both Marcus and Jack seemed to take great delight in being able to kiss the bride. It was hard to resist a sudden possessive urge to haul Jessica back to his side, but instead Alex turned to a woman who murmured congratulations and offered her hand.

“Your servant, madame.” He politely bent over her cool fingers and then straightened. “I believe I can now understand how my friend Jack came to surrender to the enemy. Had I been the one captured, I also would have been captivated.”

Petite and very blond, Eloise Rivers regarded him under a fringe of fair lashes. She was exquisitely shaped, from the perfect oval of her face to the luscious curves of her voluptuous body. A small smile curved her pink mouth and she said with a soft but distinct accent, “My husband told me you were very gallant, Colonel.”

“Did he?” Alex lifted a brow. “Let’s hope he stopped there.”

The fair lashes fluttered. “Not so. He told me of some of the ‘adventures’ you and he have shared, both as wild young men and later fighting my countrymen.”

“The edited version, I hope.”

Mrs. Rivers gave a delightful laugh and playfully tapped his arm. “Let’s hope not. Those stories were bad enough,
mon
Colonel. Surely it is a good thing you are both wed and can now be managed properly.”

“Managed? Is that what I am?” Jack moved to slip his arm around his wife’s waist, her head barely reaching his shoulder. His height and sleek dark coloring were a decided contrast to her short stature and pale skin and hair. “Beware, Ramsey. I’m afraid she’s right. I am very managed.”

“I look forward to it.” Out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see the sweep of ivory satin skirts as his wife engaged in conversation with the bishop.

His wife.

Alex bowed. “Speaking of such things, please excuse me.”

Jack looked amused, his dark eyes narrowing. “By all means, Ramsey. Expect a dinner invitation from us soon, whenever you and your lovely bride return from the country.”

Alex was already edging away. “We’d be delighted.”

He was actually prepared to be delighted in a lot of things, most of all the coming night.

Chapter Ten

The duck melted in her mouth, a savory sauce of red wine and cherries enhancing the richness of the meat. Someone hadn’t lied to Alex, Jessica thought as she ate; the tiny, quaint inn tucked against the bank of the Thames was indeed blessed with a fine chef. The private dining room where they sat had two square windows carved into the thick stone walls, giving a lovely view of moonlight on the slick black water sliding slowly past. The evening was warm, so there was no leaping fire in the large stone hearth, but it gave the low-ceilinged and half-timbered room a cozy feel. Homey copper pots hung on the walls, a decided contrast to the casual elegance and excellence of the food.

Alex had finished his meal and just sipped his wine, watching her from across the table with a tinge of open amusement in his blue eyes. In the warm and humid air, a rebellious lock of blond hair curled at his temple, giving him a boyish aura that certainly did not go along with the width of his shoulders and the fine lines by his well-shaped mouth. He lounged at ease in his chair, indolently lifting his glass to his lips now and again, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed negligently at the ankle.

Nervously she bolted down another morsel of duck.

She’d vowed before God to share his home and his bed for the rest of her life. Ever since the stormy scene with Nathaniel, and Alex’s impetuous proposal the day before, Jessica had alternated between acknowledging this new reality with a kind of fearful joy and a sinking sense of fate.

She was no longer an unrealistic child-woman, falling in love with the handsome hero. His potent charm and golden good looks meant nothing compared to the worth of the man himself. And that, she promised herself, remained to be seen.