Undone by His Kiss (16 page)

“I have changed my mind, Mother. I don’t think I’m well.” How could she leave when each moment she spent away would be consumed with worry?

“Oh yes, you’ll go. This may be the chance you need to secure your future. The opportunity to meet someone who will love you and keep you as your father cherishes me.” Her mother drew closer with a determined expression that pinched her face, a keen light in her eyes. “One doesn’t throw away an occasion to meet gentlemen of quality.”

“I have changed my mind.” Tears threatened, causing Emily’s voice to crack. “I’d like to stay home this evening, Mother. That’s what I’d like to do.”

“Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. You’re to go to your event and dazzle every dance partner. Your father would expect no less. I won’t live forever.”

The last sentence brought with it a rush of emotions Emily feared she’d never sort. “There will be other gatherings, other times when I feel more—”

“This discussion is over.”

If only Emily could return to the past, somehow help her mother, refuse to allow her to unravel and prevent the illness that ate away at her peace of mind bit by bit.

A knock on the door drew her attention to the present.

“You have a gentleman caller, Miss Shaw.” Mary entered, the look on her face expressing quick perception of the situation in the drawing room. “A very handsome young man.” The housekeeper offered her a gentle smile. “You mustn’t keep him waiting. I’m sure your mother and I will have a pleasant evening.”

“Yes, I have letters to write. You must post them in the morning, Mary. We should begin as soon as Emily departs.”

Her mother eyed her with a severe expression and Emily swallowed her rebuttal. How could she leave knowing her mother was on the verge of an emotional crisis? She’d always regret the decision if something happened tonight, something that couldn’t be corrected. Yet refusal would raise her mother’s temper, provoke her agitation. There seemed no right choice despite Mary was an excellent companion, familiar with her mother’s moods and temperament.

As if her mother read her mind, she waved her hand, a determined gleam in her eye. “I insist you go. Don’t worry about me. Mary and I have things to do and you’ve left your gentleman waiting in the hall. You’ll not want him to presume you possess poor manners. Do you need me to speak to him on your behalf?”

“No!” Emily stepped backward, anxious to curtail any idea her mother instigated, mortified were Jasper to witness her mother in disarray. This very moment is what made relationships near impossible. The devastating embarrassment of someone, anyone, discovering her mother’s broken state of mind. If only her mother would see a doctor, find counsel with someone somewhere to ease her burden and perhaps mend the emotional turmoil that caused these unrelenting and erratic episodes. Whatever Emily endeavored ultimately proved the wrong choice.

Mary approached while Emily battled through her thoughts. “Go ahead now. I’ll mind your mother’s company under close watch. Everything will be fine. There’s no need for you to forego your plans.”

Tormented by fear and divided by the desire to see Jasper or fulfill obligation, Emily headed toward the door with hesitant steps. She made it all the way to the hall before she took a cleansing breath, falling back against the wall to settle her nerves. Then she rounded the corner and pasted on the calmest smile she could muster.

She’d already kept him waiting, but when she entered the foyer and saw Jasper standing beside the chiffonier, his profile reflected in the sidelong mirror, she stilled, wishing to soak in the scene, burn it into her memory to remember for always. Future opportunities to share his handsome escort to any affair of the ton seemed doubtable.

Tonight he wore a cutaway coat in a wonderful shade of aubergine over a white linen shirt, coffee-colored trousers and a crisp cravat that brushed against his throat in the same spot she’d kissed with wanton abandon while the rain drummed against the carriage roof in tune to her heart. His boots where polished to an impossible shine and when he turned, at once aware she watched from afar, one side of his mouth hitched in a disarming smile of pure masculine handsomeness.

Her pulse gave an anxious little flutter and she wondered not for the first time, how she would enjoy this evening, her mind divided at home, while her heart lay in his hands.

“Miss Shaw, I am purchasing you a pocket watch come morning.”

Surely he meant to tease, though he had no idea how closely he’d come to being turned away. She went to him, accepting his assistance with her wrap, slipping on her gloves and walking to his fancy carriage, while simultaneously reordering her emotions, determined to have an enjoyable evening and leave all emotion at home, as it was likely one of the few chances fate would offer her respite.

Chapter 17

Peculiar, how a minute feels like an hour in some circumstances and yet at other instances, the longest day passes in a flash of experience. Anticipation, mixed with happiness and sexual frustration, stretched the time spent waiting in Miss Shaw’s town house foyer into everlasting torture. Was she having second thoughts? Formulating an excuse the housekeeper would carry to him with sincere regrets?

He released a breath he didn’t know he held when at last their eyes met. She looked exquisite; this headstrong, delicate flower who’d somehow twined her way around his heart. He wasn’t looking for love, focused on building a reputation based on financial acuity and prophetic insight. Still love wasn’t a bad thing. Love promised to make a rich life richer in ways no bank could measure.

They settled in his carriage and he couldn’t take his eyes from her, the graceful arch of her cheek, the lissome curve of her neck, every beautiful attribute fueled the constant desire that throbbed with urgency whenever she was near. Tonight she dazzled, more so than he’d ever seen her. And she would be on his arm at Oliver’s gathering. Damn Kellaway, if the viscount chose to attend.

“This evening, we’re to dine and dance at Lord Lindsey’s home. You’ve met his son, Oliver, at Stanbuck’s social. If you recall Miss Gordon’s mother was none too happy while we colluded in the library. Oliver and his quick thinking saved the evening from disaster.”

“Yes, of course.”

She skirted her knees to the right, avoiding the threat of contact as the carriage rattled, and he wondered if she recalled their afternoon kiss because he bloody well couldn’t erase the memory from his mind.

She seemed unusually reserved and he pressed the conversation, anxious to learn as much as he could about the elusive Miss Shaw…most especially her first name.

“The estate is situated on the far side of Mayfair, so we have a decent ride ahead. All the more time for us to get to know each other better.” He removed his gloves and placed them on the seat to his left. “Your family’s town house is of excellent location. Were your parents at home tonight? I’d have been pleased to make their acquaintance.”

Her smile faltered and she flitted her eyes around the interior before she replied. “My mother was indisposed this evening. Perhaps another time.” She paused. “My father is no longer with us.”

He noticed the hitch in her voice. “My condolences. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, had I known.”

She gave a slight nod, as if the topic was of no significance. “I enjoyed our visit to the aviary this afternoon. I didn’t have a chance to thank you.”

The change of subject brought with it a visible ease.

“I believe the hummingbirds liked you best.” He watched her closely, aware some intrusive emotion preoccupied her thoughts.

“I’m sure this evening will be lovely.”

The innocuous non sequitur convinced him of his suspicion. “I will gladly introduce you to my acquaintances; otherwise you may not know anyone aside from Oliver.” He flashed another smile. “I am but your slave.”

“And Lord Kellaway?”

Aaah, so the distraction is unveiled. Damn Kellaway to Hades. “I suspect Kell may be in attendance, although I understand his father has returned to London which usually signals Kell’s departure.”

“They do not get along then?”

Her question prodded his anger, though he struggled to ignore it. “That’s a colossal understatement.” If she was curious over the viscount, he would supply a short history. Perhaps then she would abandon her interest. “Kellaway’s parents are an anomaly in London. His mother is the Duke of Acholl’s only daughter. Her fiery red hair matches her volatile temperament, better suited for an actress than lady of dignity. Still she maintains a reputation of being high in the instep and demanding of all things. Kell’s father has been castrated by society’s pressures, most especially the influence and power of the duke. Acholl tugged on his leash hard a year back and now Kell’s father jumps to do his wife’s bidding though they’ve lived estranged for several years, reuniting to offer a pretense to society, while most everyone knows they prefer independent lives and private liaisons. The lady is as controlling of her husband as her father is of his son-in-law, thus Kell’s father lives a wretched existence and feels no guilt causing his son equal misery.”

He paused to glance out the window and check their progress, not realizing how long he’d gone on.

“They sound like terrible parents, although my childhood had its own hardships.” She, too, glanced to the window, eyeing the desolate sky.

“Oh, they are well suited for each other, but poorly so for parenthood.” Jasper’s upbringing had been filled with laughter, love, and wonderful memories, at least those he could recall of his mother. His father had been his friend as much as his sire. “At least, Kell is an only child. I doubt his mother wanted any children. Meanwhile his father walks a fine line between wife and family. Encumbered by a severe limp, one would think he’d seek a more peaceful existence in his advanced years.”

“A limp?” Her eyes matched his in avid attention.

“Yes, a complicated injury during his childhood.” He shook his head to dismiss the conversation. “But let’s not spend our time together discussing unpleasant issues. I’m looking forward to this affair. Might I reserve the first waltz?”

She smiled and it restored his hope for an enjoyable evening. Perhaps he’d been right to dispel her fascination of Kellaway with tangible fact.

“Of course.”

She might have said more, but the abrupt rocking of the carriage evoked a little laugh and minutes later they stood inside Lindsey Manor, the foyer pulsing with activity and the promise of evening reverie. Oliver found them right off and while Jasper did his best to introduce Miss Shaw to several acquaintances, he secretly wished they could forego all niceties and seek the ballroom where the orchestra played a lively tune. It remained his main objective, to once again hold Miss Shaw in the circle of his arms. When he might finally have accomplished his goal, of all people, Kellaway intersected their path.

“Kell, you remember Miss Shaw?” He wondered if anyone could hear the reluctance in his voice.

“How could I forget such rare loveliness?” Kellaway bowed low before taking her gloved hand, a kiss of greeting placed on her knuckles. “Another time, I will beg for a dance. As it is, I must take my leave.”

“The evening’s just begun. Do you have to go so soon?” Miss Shaw’s question expressed all the regret Jasper lacked.

“My apologies. Something has occurred that requires my immediate attention.” Kell caught Jasper’s eye in silent communication before bestowing a smile on the lady.

He didn’t say more and vanished soon after, swallowed by the crowd who bustled through the corridor, anxious to take part in the ballroom festivities. Jasper watched Miss Shaw’s smile fall away. What was it about Kell that held her in such enthrallment?

“Might we get a little air?”

He had to lean closer to hear her over the revelers, but he didn’t mind, the delicate fragrance of her perfume a subtle reward. “Of course. Come this way.”

He led them to a terrace on the far side of the house, away from the immediate activity and as he ushered her down the hall and out through the glass French doors, he wondered what she could be about. They’d only just arrived. Still they stood against the balustrade, the night air refreshing, and in the light of candlelit lanterns and the moon, he waited.

“There’s something about Kellaway. I think I…”

Her words weren’t what he expected.
Don’t say you care for him.

“Feel connected to him in a way I can’t explain.”

He squared his shoulders, tugged at his cuffs. “Many ladies have fallen under the viscount’s spell.”

“No, Jasper. You don’t understand.” She placed her hand on his forearm as if imploring him to listen.

“I’m sure I do.” He placed his hand over hers, realizing belatedly he’d left his gloves in the carriage, but not regretting the error.

“You couldn’t possibly.”

The words were spoken in a whisper, but he didn’t miss them. Tipping her chin upward, he looked into her crystal blue eyes as they reflected lantern light, the stars, and moon glow. “What is it? You look as if you’re about to cry.”

She blinked twice, though fresh tears welled right after, so he wrapped her in his embrace, considering how he’d wanted to hold her, cherish her, kiss her senseless and somehow through a strange twist of fate, he’d come to console her with little understanding why he was doing so.

What was she doing? She hadn’t accepted this invitation to lament her mother’s melancholy. Nor worry over the strange apprehension she experienced whenever Kellaway stood near. The viscount was a handsome man. Dashing in all the predictable ways, but that wasn’t what pulled at her. It was something else. Something unanswered.

And then, when Jasper mentioned Kell’s father having a limp, an image of her father crystallized with painful clarity. She squeezed her lids tighter. She didn’t want to think about her parents. She wanted to dance; to rejoice in Jasper’s attention, to forget every dismal reason why she needed to escape her home, because the thoughts would return tomorrow. All the painful regrets and sorry realities would greet her when the morning sunshine slanted through the lace curtains of her bedchamber.