Pride and Pleasure (14 page)

“What could he have done?”

“Abscond with you. Hold you for ransom. Anything.”

“Montague?” she scoffed. “A man of his station would not—”

“You don’t know him, Eliza, or what he is capable of.”

“And you do?”

“Stay away from him.”

Her brow rose. “Is that an order?”

Jasper’s jaw clenched. “Don’t turn this into a battle of wills.”

“You are attempting to limit my freedom. It’s unreasonable to expect me not to fight for it.”

He caught her by the elbows and tugged her scandalously close, as if they were alone and not surrounded on all sides by prying eyes. “I am attempting to keep you safe.”

“Your advice is duly noted.” Eliza knew she was goading his temper, but his clipped responses made her wonder if she wasn’t giving him precisely what he wanted. He seemed to be spoiling for a fight.

“You must heed me.” His eyes were so dark, they were nearly black.

“Your concern is unfounded. I foresee no occasion where Lord Montague and I would have cause to meet again outside of social settings.”

“Cause or not, I want you to keep your distance.” He released her. “From Tolliver, as well.”

Irritation swelled within her. “Tell me why.”

“Tolliver is not taking the news of our engagement well.”

“And Montague? He smiled when I told him and wished me happy.”

“He cares for no one’s happiness but his own.”

“And I’m just to take your word for this, with no explanation provided?”

“Yes.”

“Already exerting your husbandly right to control me in whatever manner you see fit?” Her grip on her fan tightened to the point that the wood creaked in protest.

“I will not allow you to turn a discussion about your safety into an argument about independence and the drawbacks of matrimony.”

“Won’t allow. I see. Is this acceptance and rejection of acquaintances reciprocal? Can I forbid you to meet with Lord Westfield?”

“You are deliberately baiting me.”

“I am simply attempting to discern where the boundaries are, and if they apply equally to both of us.”

“Westfield is no danger to anyone.”

“Maybe I know something you do not,” she challenged. “Of course, if I follow your example, I don’t have to share what I know with you.”

She looked away to hide the prickling of tears and saw Lord Montague approaching. Her shoulders went back.

“Miss Martin.” Montague kissed the back of the hand she extended to him, then released her with a stately dip of his head. He looked at Jasper. “Mr. Bond. May I extend felicitations to you?”

Jasper’s lips curved in a teeth-baring smile. “You may, my lord. I accept them with pleasure.”

Eliza knew the rigidness of her posture betrayed the oppositional nature of her conversation with Jasper, but she was too frustrated to care overmuch.

“Is it too much to hope, Miss Martin,” the earl said, “that you might still have room on your dance card for me?”

“The next waltz is yours.”

A tic in Jasper’s jaw filled her with acrimonious satisfaction.

She’d deliberately withheld the evening’s two waltzes. Not for Montague, but as a token gesture for Jasper. She had intended for her next waltz to be with him, even though it would take weeks for him to learn the steps and absorb them into memory.

“It appears I, too, am fortunate,” Montague said. “Although not to the same degree as you, Mr. Bond.”

“So it seems.” Jasper’s features were set in hard lines.

The orchestra played a few brief notes to alert the guests that the next dance would soon begin. Eliza gratefully excused herself and searched for her partner, Baron Brimley. As she moved away from the terrible tension emanating from Jasper, her breathing became easier. Reason returned to her, swiftly followed by regret. She disliked that they’d quarreled. Worse, she disliked herself.

 

Jasper watched Eliza walk away with undue haste and berated himself for sparking their first argument. He
knew
he had to tread lightly with her or risk her thrusting issues of money and independence between them, but he’d been discomfited into acting rashly. The surprise of learning that she’d met with Montague drove him to be harsh and unyielding, yet his ignorance was his own fault. Lynd had called upon him unexpectedly, and Jasper made the mistake of delaying the daily reports in order to accommodate his old mentor.

How could he have been so careless? He lived by rigid schedules and timetables for a reason—they kept things running smoothly and without startling incidents. Compounding his error by expelling the anger that should rightly have been self-directed only made the situation worse. He’d now caused a rift between him and Eliza that he could ill-afford.

“You have Byron’s brooding countenance mimicked to perfection,” Montague said. “I didn’t try that tactic when attempting to woo Miss Martin.”

Jasper’s head turned slowly, his expression altering to reveal no emotion whatsoever. He and his half-brother were nearly of a height. The similarities between them were numerous enough that Jasper shifted slightly to put more distance between them. “I cannot say I’m sorry you lost her to me.”

Montague smiled and rocked back on his heels, blissfully oblivious to the resemblance between them and the reason for it. “You are somewhat of a mystery, Mr. Bond.”

“Ask me what you want to know. Perhaps I’ll answer you.”

“How do you feel about coal?”

A ripple of satisfaction moved through Jasper. Could acquiring the information he needed be so easy? “It’s a necessity. Life would be miserable without it.”

“My thoughts exactly.” The earl’s smile turned into a grin. “I have a speculation you might find interesting.”

Jasper pushed Eliza from his mind and managed a smile. “You have the entirety of my attention, my lord.”

 

By the time the Earl of Montague collected Eliza for their waltz, her ire had vanished. Still, she was completely out of sorts. For the first time, she understood that she’d lived her life without conflict after her mother passed on. No one disagreed with her because there were no points of contention; she was not obliged to explain herself nor meld her viewpoint with anyone else’s. The result of her unchallenged independence was that she was sorely unprepared for arguments. Her entire body responded negatively to discord. She had a headache, and her stomach was upset, even though she was no longer angry.

“I’ve never seen you look lovelier, Miss Martin,” Montague murmured, as he set his hand at her waist.

“Thank you.” She stared at his cravat, noting its elaborate style and thick starching.

Montague had dressed flamboyantly in peacock blue velvet and a multi-colored waistcoat. His attire was far removed from Jasper’s more somber style, and yet the earl’s height and physical coloring were uncannily accurate substitutes for Jasper. The similarity caused Eliza to focus on how the earl made allowances for her shorter stature when an upraised arm position dictated it. He was a highly accomplished dancer, leading her expertly through the steps. She took mental notes for use in Jasper’s dancing lessons, grateful the preoccupation afforded her some respite from her emotional turmoil.

“You have aroused my curiosity,” he said.

“In what regard?”

“Your matchmaking skills.”

Eliza frowned. “I didn’t say I possessed any. Only that I could find someone more suitable for you than I.”

“Suggestions?” His dark eyes were laughing.

“I believe any unmarried woman in attendance tonight would fit that criterion.”

“For shame,” he cried, laughing, and thereby turning heads toward them. “To foster hope, only to dash it with a cruel jest.”

“Fustian. You could have anyone.”

“Except for you.”

It took her a moment to realize he was teasing her. “How about Audora Winfield?” she offered.

“Her laugh drives me to madness.”

“Jane Rothschild?”

“I frighten her. She stammers and turns red. The best we’ve managed were short stretches of time at a house party where I spoke incessantly to fill the void and she nodded vigorously to everything I said.”

“Poor thing. Perhaps more time spent with her will alleviate her nervousness?”

“Too torturous for both of us, I think. Certainly too much work.”

“Lady Sarah Tanner?”

He shook his head.

“What fault does she have?” Eliza asked.

Montague hesitated a moment, then said, “She is . . . overbold.”

“Oh. I see.” She found herself at a loss. There were others, she was sure, but she couldn’t name them offhand. “Perhaps you would be best served by waiting for a new Season and new debutantes?”

“As recently as yesterday, I would have said I could not afford to wait that long.”

“And today?”

“Today, I have renewed hope that I can buy the time necessary to find a suitable replacement for you. I believe I have found a solid investment with a high probability of return. Mr. Bond might join me in the pool. We have plans to discuss it further tomorrow.”

“Do you?”

Why would Jasper consider investing with Montague when he claimed not to trust the earl and knew him to be insolvent? It was unreasonable. And that wasn’t her only concern. What was Jasper’s experience with investments? Did he know what he was involving himself in?

In the morning, she would ask Reynolds to look into Montague’s speculation and assess its potential. Then, she’d approach Jasper directly and ask him to explain. If he refused to answer, she would give him an ultimatum—share with her or lose her.

They could progress no further as a couple with so much unsaid between them.

“I
’m sorry.”

Eliza turned away from the French doors leading to the rear garden and faced Jasper. He entered the Melville ballroom with a determined, forceful stride. There were over one hundred feet of marble floor between them, but she felt his presence keenly.

“Close the door,” she said.

He drew to a halt. The massive room was dimly lit, with only the indirect morning sunlight at her back offering any illumination. She heard him take a deep breath before turning around and returning to the door.

As the click of the latch echoed through the room, she asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“No.” Jasper resumed the long walk to where she stood, passing the many mural vignettes without looking. “But then, I’ve never slept well. There is too much to be done and not enough time in the day.”

“I didn’t sleep well either.” She absorbed the rush of sensation she always felt upon first sight of him. Interspersed between the Georgian-era vignettes of a picnic party were long, slender mirrors framed by cream-colored molding. The result was many Jaspers filling the room. Her reaction was equally magnified.

“I apologize for last night,” he said again, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. Lowering his head, he sealed his mouth over hers.

There was nothing remorseful about his kiss. It was hot, fierce, and lustful. Jasper’s tongue teased her lips open, then licked inside. The taste of him exploded across her senses, awakening a powerful need to possess him.

Eliza caught him to her with fevered desperation. Her arms encircled his shoulders, her fingers pushed into his silky hair and cupped his nape. Her breasts swelled against his chest, the lingering soreness between her legs forgotten in a rush of slick moisture. She wanted to bare his skin, rub her open mouth across it, caress him with her hands and uninhibited undulations of her body.

He groaned and twisted his mouth away.

“Jasper . . . ?”

“I handled myself poorly.” He rested his temple against hers. “I know you won’t tolerate being dictated to.”

She no longer wanted to talk, but knew they must. Sexual passion could not be all they had. “H-how do you know that?”

“Because I pay attention to you.” He set her away from him. “And I’m a good judge of character.”

“You have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you beyond your livelihood and your wish to marry me.”

“You know how I look without my clothes on. And how I feel inside you.”

She wanted him inside her now. Ached for the feeling of fullness and delicious friction. The incendiary rush of climax and the repletion that followed.

Eliza linked her hands behind her back and circled him, her green skirts swaying around her legs. “That isn’t enough for me in quiet, contemplative moments. I think of you and how I act when I’m around you, and I do not recognize myself. You are the catalyst for the changes in me, yet you’re an enigma. Can you understand how difficult it is for me to experience such upheaval with no foundation upon which to lay it?”

He turned his head to keep their gazes connected. “I know it appears as if I haven’t altered as much or sacrificed as much as you have.”

“You aren’t the only one sorry about their behavior last night. I said and did things I regretted almost the moment they happened. I was irritated with you and reacted unthinkingly.”

“Relationships are fraught with such behavior. It’s perfectly normal.”

“It will not be normal for us, or I want nothing to do with it.”

His stance widened. “What are you saying?”

Slowing in front of him, she eyed him from head to toe. He was dressed for riding in snug doeskin breeches and polished Hessians. The powerful muscles of his thighs and calves were clearly delineated. He crossed his arms, as if in preparation for a confrontation, and his flexing biceps strained the seams of his dark gray coat.

He was the most attractive, sexually alluring man she’d ever crossed paths with.

“I cannot hide how I want you,” she said huskily. “I want to be in your bed even now, despite the fact that it’s the middle of the morning. I want you so badly I burn with it.”

“Eliza.”

“See how you’ve changed me, that I can say such things aloud? But desire alone won’t be enough impetus to wed you. I could insist on an affair instead.” She rounded him again. “I agreed to your proposal because you’ve been honest with me. Although you haven’t revealed much of yourself, what you have shared up to this point has been truthful.”

Jasper caught her arm as she came around. “I’m different with you, as well. I am learning to adjust. You will, too.”

“Not unless you become more than a stranger to me. You once said your past and future are irrelevant. But since then, you’ve asked me to blend your future with mine. To create a joint future.
Our
future. In order for that to happen, you have to show me the road upon which you travel. I cannot be led along blindly. If you won’t commit to sharing, then we are finished before we begin.”

“The future is shaped by the past.” His throat worked on a hard swallow. “My past will alter your view of me. The risk of you turning away from what I am is too great.”

Eliza cupped his cheek. With every inhale, she smelled the beloved scent of his skin. “What kind of life would we have together, if we continue to do and say things to each other we lament? It’s the worst sort of dishonesty. I’ve seen it before, and I know it ends in sorrow and misery. I don’t want that for you, or for me. I do not want that for
us
.”

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “You speak of your parents.”

“There was so much left unsaid between them. Their infatuation brought them together, but it wasn’t strong enough to bear the weight of their façades. They quarreled often and said unkind things. Eventually, apologies were no longer enough to mend the rift between them. How could they be, when they continued to repeat the mistakes they apologized for?” Her fingertips drifted across his firm lips. “If only they’d been honest about themselves and what they needed. Perhaps they could have made each other happy.”

“The moment you walked away from me last night, I regretted my brusqueness. I considered climbing through your bedroom window just to reassure myself that you would still receive me.”

“Would you have revealed the truth to me then?”

Jasper offered a rueful smile. “I doubt it. Surely, the convenience of finding you in bed would have distracted me.”

“How swiftly you tell the truth when it’s not tied to your past.”

He urged her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then, he walked away and spoke over his shoulder. “Pull the pins from your hair. I’ll speak for as long as it takes you to let it down completely.”

“What game is this?”

“I intend to learn how to dance with you. We cannot have every lesson delayed by interruptions, despite how pressing they might be. We need a way to measure the time spent.”

“Your pocket watch will not suffice?”

“That isn’t nearly as fun.”

Reaching up with both hands, she obliged. Slowly. Pulling out one pin and carefully lowering her arm to drop it on the floor.

He gave an approving nod, then began to follow the length of the wall. “There are some individuals who lack empathy for others. They are unable to create or sustain emotional connections, and their vision of the world is limited to their own viewpoints.”

“My stepfather was such a person. Chilcott was entirely self-absorbed.”

Jasper’s voice rose to compensate for the growing distance between them. “In addition to that defect of character, Montague is also cursed with aberrant sexual appetites.”

Eliza paused in the act of withdrawing another pin. “How do you know this?”

“I have crossed paths with women who’ve had the misfortune of catching his eye. He prefers unwilling partners and the infliction of pain. My understanding is he cannot perform otherwise.”

“Unwilling . . .” Her stomach turned at the thought of being forced to share the intimacies of sexual congress with someone who was cruel and malicious. “How does one acquire such deviant tastes?”

“Through the blood, perhaps? Or a defect of the soul.” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

Her hands fell to her sides. She walked toward him with her hair loosened and threatening to fall around her shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? How could you keep such things from me?”

“When could I have told you?”

“Don’t be coy!”

He altered direction to meet her halfway, his booted steps more silent than her slippered ones. “I would give up a great many things to spare you such sordidness. I knew you were decided against marriage, which made the possibility of your ever learning of Lord Montague’s activities very slim indeed.”

“I would not have met with him yesterday if I’d known!” As she reached him, her hands went to her hips. “And you and I would not have quarreled.”

“I also feared what would happen if he discovered you knew of his darker nature. Your face is so expressive. You will not be able to hide your condemnation, and he’s a desperate man. His good name is all he has left. He cannot afford to have it sullied by gossip.”

Although she didn’t approve of his methods, she hadn’t the heart to argue about his reasoning. He wanted to protect her in every respect. “Do you think he’s the one who has been plaguing me?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Jasper beckoned her closer with a crook of his finger. “He is teetering on the verge of utter ruination. He’s gambled away or sold every non-entailed property, and he does not have the means to support the holdings he has left. His debts are such that he’s being denied credit. Soon, he will have nowhere to turn.”

“And yet you’re considering investing with him?” Eliza stepped into his open arms. “What are you thinking?”

He set his chin atop her head. “I want him ruined. I cannot allow him to find a means of salvation. If feigning interest is required to glean the information I need to thwart him, it’s a small price to pay.”

His tone was so vitriolic, it didn’t sound like Jasper at all. Eliza leaned back to study his features. “Why?”

“Retribution for a . . . friend.”

Jealousy stung her. “A lover?”

“No.” His hands stroked the length of her spine. “Before you there was sex. You have been my only lover.”

Her fingers straightened his already immaculate cravat. “Will I always be?”

“Are you asking if I’ll be steadfast? Of course.”

“You answer so easily.”

His beautiful mouth curved with amusement. “As if I practiced my response for just such a question? And here I thought we’d established I have yet to tell you a falsehood.”

Eliza looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I find the thought of another woman enjoying you as I have to be extremely vexing.”

“Vexing,” he repeated, grinning.

“Intolerable,” she amended.

“We certainly cannot have you vexed. Therefore, I must be faithful.”

Unsatisfied by his response, she goaded him. “I shall follow your lead in this aspect of our association, as I have in everything else.”

“Why, Miss Martin,” he drawled. “I do believe that was a threat.”

Her gaze dropped to where her fingers lay against white linen. “Only if you stray.”

He laughed. Picking her up, he spun her around.

“Jasper!” Wide-eyed, she looked into his face. Something in his expression flushed her skin.

“You delight me.” His voice was slightly husky.

“You confound me. And charm me.”

“And arouse you.”

“Too easily.” She ran her hands through his hair, unable to resist its thick silky texture.

“I want you even when we’re not together. Can you say the same?”

“Yes, in the moments when I’m not questioning myself for jumping into a situation with my eyes closed.”

Jasper set her down and touched her falling hair with reverent fingers. “Your mind wants to make sense of what you feel. I’ve forsaken any effort to understand it, but you will not. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. Just promise me that when you have doubts or concerns, you’ll come to me as you did today. Tell me what you need, and I will find a way to give it to you.”

Eliza believed him. He made her feel as if she was important to him. Necessary. She’d never been necessary to anyone before. It was a novel feeling, one she was still attempting to assimilate.

“What I need,” she began, catching his hand in hers and setting her left hand on his shoulder, “is for you to learn how to waltz. I want to dance with you.”

He positioned his hand at her waist. “From the very first, you listed dancing as a requirement in your suitors.”

“I’ll enjoy dancing with you best of all.” Eliza smiled. “You have that air of danger about you, and a very seductive way of moving. The inherent sensuality of the waltz was made for a man such as you.”

His smile made her pulse race. “I want to commission a new gown for you to wear during our first public waltz. Will you wear it?”

Pleased by the thought of a gift, she nodded. It had been a long time since someone who cared for her bought her a present. Melville rarely knew what day of the week it was; special occasions were beyond him.

“I cannot wait,” he purred, his spine straightening beautifully. “Teach me quickly.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Her tone changed, became more clipped and direct. “There are nine positions in the German waltz. However, we must start with a rule: this precise distance between us should always be maintained.”

“You’re too far away,” he complained, shooting a pointed glance down at the floor between them.

“Stuff. The waltz is the only dance in which pairs are set apart from the assemblage and focused on each other. There is no way to be more intimate.”