Her Notorious Viscount (22 page)

Jane hesitated. Her heart was certainly not in the mood for dancing. She glanced one last time at Nicholas. He was surrounded by ladies now and seemed quite engrossed by their conversation.

She straightened her shoulders. She and Nicholas Stoneworth were on very different paths now. It was how it had to be.

“Yes, Mister Eggertan. I would be most pleased to dance the next with you,” she said as she held out her hand.

“Your party is quite a success,” Nicholas said, taking a sip of his drink.

“As are you, my dear,” his mother said with a smile.

Nicholas hesitated before he answered because his attention was drawn, just as it had been all night, to Jane. She was spinning across the dance floor in the arms of yet another gentleman. She looked to be having a good time, too. Which set his teeth on edge.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to say, returning his attention to his mother. He forced a smile. “I am far from perfect. I think I offended Lord Glenamara when I mispronounced his name. And I’m certain I cursed in front of Lady Wilkshire.”

His mother shrugged one shoulder. “You cannot be expected to know all over night. These things take time.”

“As you well know.” He winked at her. “Jane told me you have been aware of my doings all this time. Smart of you to keep her from telling me.”

“Ah, Jane,” Lady Bledsoe said on a sigh as her gaze slipped to the woman in question.

Which forced Nicholas to do the same. Thankfully she was finished with her latest conquest and was now standing with a small group of women, chatting quietly. He was pleased until two men approached with punch for her. He sighed.

“She is a dear girl,” his mother said softly, but he felt her attention on him even as she continued to look at Jane. “I hope my influence can help her retain some position in Society. What do you think of her? You spent a great deal of time with her over the past few weeks, did you not?”

Nicholas stiffened as every moment of the time he’d spent with Jane flashed through his mind, but especially that last night when she had given him her body so sweetly.

“I have never known anyone like her in my life,” he said softly. “She is a lady in every sense of the word. And a great friend to have.”

“It sounds as though you were lucky to have her,” his mother mused as she turned her stare back to him. “You know, she seems to be doing quite well in Society tonight. She has gained some acceptance and is catching the attention of a few men in the lower gentry.”

“Good.” He choked on the word. “She deserves every happiness.”

“Indeed,” his mother said softly. Then her smile brightened her face. “Now, you have not danced tonight and you must. Look, Jane has no partner and the waltz is to be played next.”

Nicholas stared at his mother. She wasn’t being particularly subtle about the fact that she was pushing him in Jane’s direction. It surprised him. Surely she knew that Jane would need a respectable man to be fully accepted. And he would need a powerful woman for the same reasons.

“She is surrounded by admirers, Mama,” he said.

“She is. But I’m certain if you pressed your suit, she would abandon them for you.” His mother arched a brow and then turned to walk away.

Nicholas watched her go. She was right, of course. If he went and demanded a dance from Jane, none of those untitled ninnies holding court around her would stop him. But was that right? He was no gentleman, not in his heart. And they were.

Except he wanted to dance with Jane. He wanted his
first
dance to be with her. He found himself moving toward her, almost as if he were drawn to her by some unspoken power.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said as he shouldered his way into the group around her. They parted immediately, as did Jane’s lips. And he saw all his own desire, all his own longing, mirrored in her eyes. “I believe this dance is mine.”

Of course, a large portion of her agreement wasn’t because she wanted to protect either of their reputations. It was because she
wanted
to be here with him. And as the first strains of the waltz began, she let herself forget everything else and just feel what it was like to be in his arms.

“You have certainly been popular tonight, Jane,” Nicholas said softly as they began to move to the music.

She blushed. “Not popular. I have only danced three times.”

“Four,” he corrected quietly. “I was counting. And you have been brought punch by five different men on four occasions.”

Jane swallowed hard with the realization that he had been tracking her movements so closely.

“You have been popular yourself,” she countered when she remembered how to speak. “There has scarce been a time when you were not surrounded by admiring women.”

“I don’t remember any of their names.”

Nicholas suddenly executed a graceful movement, maneuvering them around another couple with ease. Jane’s eyes widened.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” she said in astonishment, for certainly
she
had not taught him the surety and grace he was displaying now. With a quick glance, she saw those around the edge of the dance floor watching them with approval.

“I am,” he said with a cockiness that made her laugh. She thrilled at the fact that Nicholas retained some part of his true personality, despite all pressures for him to transform away from it.

“I am beginning to believe you did not need gentleman lessons after all,” she said.

“Oh, but you are wrong,” he said, pulling her just a fraction closer and quickening her heart in the process. “I did need them. I am afraid I still do. You see, when I am holding you, I have remarkably ungentlemanly thoughts.”

Jane licked her suddenly dry lips, which elicited a small growl from Nicholas. Her body felt very heavy now. And it tingled madly in all the very worst places.

“Do you?” she squeaked.

He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. “I think I need some refresher courses. Will you meet me in the parlor off the second hallway in half an hour?”

Jane bit back a gasp. Utter temptation had just been laid at her feet, and yet she could not take it. Could she?

“My lord—” she began.

He shook his head. “I promise you, Jane, I just want to be near you.” He paused with a sheepish smile. “And kiss you.”

Jane flashed to all the wicked places he had kissed her a few nights ago. “Where?”

He laughed full-on this time, drawing even more attention to them. “Meet me,” he said, his voice growing quiet again. “Please.”

She nodded. She couldn’t help herself. This man was too compelling to deny. Too tempting to refuse.

And what was the harm in one kiss?

Nicholas folded his arms as he stared across the parlor at his father. Hugh Stoneworth, Marquis Bledsoe was pacing the room, his handsome face dark with anger and disappointment. It was a common occurrence when they were together; Nicholas had come to expect it.

What he hadn’t expected was how much it hurt him this time. He’d worked so hard to come up to his father’s standards, and still it wasn’t enough.

Nicholas tossed a quick glance at his mother and Lucinda, who had followed his father to the parlor when they saw him slip from the ballroom a few moments before. He hadn’t even realized Lucinda was at the ball, but she had explained, before all hell broke loose, that she had merely been watching.

Checking up on him, was what she really meant. It would have stung if she hadn’t then smiled at him with approval. At least one person in the room had some little faith in him. And his mother seemed to be leaning more toward approval than disapproval.

Of course all three of them would have been railing at him if they knew his true reason for escaping the crowd and finding refuge in this small, little-used chamber.

He’d been so anxious to meet with Jane that he had come early, and thank God. If the family had burst in when he was alone with her, it only would have made things worse.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” his father snapped, rapping his knuckles on the side table near him.

Nicholas sighed as he dug in his pocket for a cigar. As he bit off the end and spit it toward the fire, he shrugged. “Tell me what you want to hear and I’m happy to say it.”

“Oh, Nicholas,” his sister-in-law breathed with a shake of her head. His mouth pinched at her drawn frown and the way his mother’s eyes widened.

“You see, Marianne,” his father said, turning to his wife with exasperation. “That is exactly what I mean. You may tell me all you like that the zebra has changed his stripes, but he is still a damned zebra.”

“As opposed to the prize racehorse that your favorite son was?” Nicholas asked bitterly.

His father turned back on him, pain lighting in his eyes as strongly as anger. “Yes. That’s right. You may dress better or tidy yourself up or even pretend at being polite, but you are still wild beneath it all. I’ve heard several reports of your behavior tonight that were enough to tell me you haven’t changed. You still aren’t—”

“Anthony?” Nicholas asked, low and dangerous. He met his father’s stare full-on and saw the answer even before his father said it.

“Nicholas, Hugh!” his mother pleaded, a tear running down her face. “This will only become more bitter if you do not stop it now.”

“But I never was, was I?” Nicholas asked, ignoring her interruption as he moved toward his father. “Never good enough. Never close to being what he was, no matter how I tried. So I stopped trying, Father. I became everything he wasn’t. And it was glorious.”

“Then why did you bother coming back?” his father snapped as he turned away. “If your life was so bloody perfect in that underground hell-hole where you think you were a god, why bother to come up to the surface?”

“Stop it!”

At first Nicholas was so wrapped up in the showdown with his father that he thought the feminine voice was his mother’s. But once it registered, he realized it wasn’t.

He was shocked to realize that it was Jane who had spoken.

Slowly, he turned to the door to find her standing inside. He nearly stumbled back with surprise. He assumed if she came to the room and saw it was occupied, she would have the sense to protect her reputation and slip away.

Instead, she stood before all four of them as if she had every right to be there. Her face was pale, especially against the dark silk of her gown. Her hands were fisted at her sides, trembling wildly, as were her full lips. She looked angry and pained and so deliciously beautiful that it took Nicholas’s breath away.

“Who are you?” Hugh Stoneworth asked in that haughty tone only one of his rank could master. The one Nicholas had despised as long as he could remember. “That little girl my wife has taken under her wing? Be gone, this is none of your affair.”

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand that would have made any other woman run. But not Jane. Nicholas watched in wonder as she denied his father’s order and slammed the door behind her.

“It
is
my affair,” she snapped, her tone as cold and regal as a queen’s. “You asked your son why he came back here, and I would like to edify you with the answer he is too proud and too good to give you.”

His father stepped back. Nicholas could have swallowed his tongue with the shock. His great and powerful father had actually stepped
back
from a woman who barely came to his shoulder and yet was controlling the room like a general.

“Nicholas came here because he loved his brother. He loved Anthony with a power you will probably never fully fathom.”

Nicholas couldn’t help the strangled groan that escaped his lips at those words. They were ones he hadn’t said out loud to anyone in his family. Hadn’t said out loud to anyone at all in a very long time. So hearing them from Jane, feeling their truth…was like a punch. And Jane seemed to understand that, for she shot him a briefly apologetic glance before she refocused on his father.

“Perhaps he behaved poorly at first. In our grief, we can do many things we later come to regret. But once he realized his actions would reflect poorly on his brother’s wife and his children and his good name…
your
good name, Lord Bledsoe, he did his damnedest to change.”

Now it was Lucinda who stiffened. Her pale face grew even more ghostly white and her eyes filled with tears. But when she looked at Nicholas, she smiled, and he could see that she was recalling their conversation that night so many days ago. Lucinda had set him on this path. Set him to finding Jane.

Another reason to be eternally grateful to her.

“Did his damnedest?” his father barked, and then gave a humorless laugh. “What would you know of that, girl?”

Jane clenched her fists at her sides. “More than you will ever know. He fought, long and hard, and surrendered so much of himself, and all in order to make
you
happy. But I can see just from watching you for five minutes that you shall
never
be happy no matter what he does. Because you aren’t angry or disappointed with Nicholas. You are angry and disappointed that Anthony died.”

Every person in the room gasped at her candor. Nicholas stepped forward, ready to come between the now purple marquis and the amazing woman who looked ready to go to battle right there in the parlor.

Her voice grew softer now, but lost none of its power. “I understand loss, my lord, God knows I do. And it is so easy to turn to anger and hatred when we are broken.” She swiped at a tear. “But you have a son, Lord Bledsoe. You have a son right here who is alive and healthy, despite all recent events. Do not throw him away because you grieve the one you lost. All it will do is make you lose them both.”

It seemed all of Jane’s bluster and bravado went out of her in the instant she said the final words. As if she had woken from a dream, she shook her head and then stared up at the marquis with a sudden flicker of fear in her brown eyes.

But his father was simply staring at her, mouth agape, stunned into silence for the first time that Nicholas could recall. His mother was all but sobbing now, tears streaming silently down her face as she looked from father to son.

Finally, it was Lucinda who came forward, taking slow steps. The stark black of her mourning gown and the far-reaching sadness that seemed to permeate her very being was a harsh reminder of everything the family had lost.

She stopped in front of Jane and extended a hand.

“We have not met. I am Lucinda Stoneworth, Anthony’s wife.”

Jane swallowed hard before she held out a trembling hand. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” As they shook, she said, “I hope I did not offend you.”

Lucinda smiled. “To the contrary, I think you said what I have been thinking for six months.”

She turned to Nicholas’s father and gave him a sad smile as she reached up to pat his cheek with great affection. “Miss Fenton’s passionate words were correct, my lord.”

Lord Bledsoe stiffened further, but Lucinda caught his hand and squeezed. Nicholas stared in wonder, for in that moment he saw the utter grief on every line of his father’s face. Somehow he hadn’t fully recognized it before. In his own pain, in his own frustration, he sometimes forgot that his father had lost a son. One whom he had been closest to for so many reasons.

He felt a powerful empathy for the man. And a new understanding.

“No one will ever replace my husband,” Lucinda said softly. “Or the father of my children. Or your son. But it isn’t fair to punish Nicholas for that simply because he and Anthony have a similar face.”

She turned and smiled at him again. “Nicholas is himself. And Anthony loved him for it.”

The last words were choked out, and Lucinda lifted her hand to her mouth to cover a quiet sob. Then she nodded to each person in the room and hurried out.

Nicholas stood stiffly, waiting for his father to renew his tirades. But instead, the older man turned and speared his son with a look. But it wasn’t one of censure, not this time. It was just a stare. As if he hadn’t seen Nicholas for a long time and was finally doing so.

He opened his mouth and shut it a few times before he choked out, “Marianne, we should see about Lucinda.”

Then he turned on his heel and left the room in a jerky clip. Nicholas’s mother hesitated for a moment before she rushed after him, leaving Jane and Nicholas alone.

As soon as the others had gone, Jane turned to him. Her face was pasty pale and tear-streaked from the emotional encounter.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Nicholas shut the door quietly and then moved toward her. “Do you know what you did?”

Her chin dropped and began to wobble. “I never should have interfered, but when I heard him speaking to you in that manner—”

“Hush,” he soothed, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.