Her Notorious Viscount (23 page)

He dropped his mouth to hers for a kiss. Jane was stiff with surprise for a moment, but then her arms came around his neck and she clung to him as if she feared they would never kiss again. Part of him understood that fear. Shared it.

Finally, he drew back and looked down at her. “No one has spoken up for me like that in an age. No one since—”

He stopped abruptly, unable to complete the sentence after everything that had just transpired. Jane’s face softened, and he saw she understood without his having to say another word. She knew he was referring to Anthony.

Still silent, she lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, something meant for comfort, but the moment their lips touched a second time, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to let it stop there. He wanted her.

Actually, it went deeper than that. He
needed
her. Needed her to forget the ugliness with his father. Needed her to make the dull ache of grief for his brother fade.

Slowly, he backed her toward the door. He leaned her against it, pressing himself fully to her frame as he reached around to turn the key in the lock.

“Nicholas?” she whispered, her tone a question as she looked up at him.

He didn’t answer with words, but with another searing kiss. She moaned, a muffled sound against his mouth, and made no protest when he began to hike her silky skirt up around her hips. He cupped her gently, and his erection grew even harder when he found she was already wet and hot, ready for him. She arched against his fingers, her head tilting back and her eyes shutting with an expression of pleasure.

“We don’t have much time,” he panted as he wrestled with the fastenings on his trousers.

She nodded as she helped him, freeing his hard cock with her soft fingers and stroking him just once, gently. He growled with the pleasure of her touch.

He cupped her backside, stroking the silky skin of her hips as he lifted her up against the door. She groaned when he slid the tip of his erection over the slick heat of her body, and then he glided forward.

She was wet enough that he fitted to the hilt inside her in one long stroke, and they both sighed in unison. She gripped her legs around his back, her fingers digging into the heavy fabric of his coat as he began to move.

Although he fought for finesse, his emotions were so wild and wired that it was a losing battle. Soon his hips jerked out of control, his pelvis ground against hers without any rhythm except that of his overpowering desire.

But his lack of control didn’t seem to diminish her pleasure. She arched, biting back little cries as she thrust back against him, creating a delicious friction that had him right on the edge of release within moments.

Finally, she stiffened and her sheath began to pulse wildly around him as a powerful orgasm washed over her. The feel of her body at the height of pleasure, the look of pure release on her face stole any remaining control he had left, and he let himself be lost, pouring his essence into her as he braced on the door and choked back a wild cry.

For a long time, they remained joined, foreheads touching, panting breaths finally slowing until their chests rose and fell in time. Gently, Nicholas helped Jane slide away from him, parting their bodies with a little groan of displeasure. She touched his cheek before she slipped her tangled chemise and gown back around her and reached up to right her hair as best she could.

“I must go back,” she said, glancing at the door where they had just coupled so wildly. Her expression had a wistful quality, and Nicholas knew she would much rather stay here with him.

“I know.” He sighed as he fastened his trousers. “And I should find my family. I want to be certain Lucinda and my mother are well. And I suppose it is past time that I have a talk with my father.”

Jane nodded, but he saw the twisted emotions that darkened her expression. She shook her head.

“I am sorry my outburst upset them. Your mother, especially, has been nothing but kind to me, and I’m certain I hurt her and made her regret ever taking me under her wing.”

She caught his hands in hers and held them against her heart as she looked up at him. In the soft light of the room, she almost looked like an angel. His angel.

“But Nicholas, I meant every word I said to them. I tried to change you when I taught you those rules of Society. I tried to make you fit into some kind of mold, but that was wrong. You are
you
, Nicholas. With both flaws and wonderful qualities. Don’t lose them. Not for anyone.”

He stared at her in wonder, struck dumb by the power of what she was saying. No one had ever given him such unconditional acceptance before. Even his twin had wished for him to change.

She leaned up and pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss against his cheek.

“Goodbye, Nicholas,” she whispered before she slipped from the room.

He stood in the same place where she had left him for a long time after she was gone, running over in his mind everything that had happened. And it took him almost that long to realize Jane had not said good night, but goodbye.

Jane gave a weak, bemused smile. If only her former employer knew the half of it. But perhaps it was best she didn’t. Jane had already made enough enemies tonight. And lost so much.

But she didn’t regret what she had done. Nicholas deserved every defense she had made of him. And her reward…that last beautiful moment in the parlor when they made love, well, that would remain in her memory forever. It was a perfect farewell.

“Oh, my dear, your eyes are filled with tears,” Lady Ridgefield said with a frown. “You must be in such pain, allow me to go out and see what is taking that footman so long!”

Jane nodded, too worried she would burst into tears to say anything. As she stood in the foyer, she drew in a few breaths to calm herself. And then she felt another person’s presence behind her.

She turned to find Lady Bledsoe standing in the hallway.

“I’m glad to catch you alone,” the other woman said as she entered the small entryway.

Jane swallowed hard as her heart rate increased tenfold. “M-my lady,” she stammered. “I—”

“Everything you said tonight was right, Jane,” Lady Bledsoe said. In the bright light, Jane could see she had been crying. “It hadn’t been said before, probably because I was too tangled in my own grief to do it. But it wasn’t fair to Nicholas. And I’m glad he has someone who loves him enough to defend him.”

Jane’s lips parted in surprise. Were her feelings so clear to this woman? She moved forward.

“My lady, I know Nicholas must marry someone of more elevated status than my own. When he does, it will ensure his position in Society and make people forget his past. I don’t want you to think that I would ever endanger that for him, no matter my own feelings.”

Lady Bledsoe reached out and caught her hand in a tight squeeze. The sudden passion in the other woman’s eyes was so shocking that Jane could not react, only stare.

“I know better than most that life is very short, Jane. All I ever wanted for my sons was happiness. Anthony had his with Lucinda, who he loved with all his heart. I would not be so unfair as to ask my other son to accept less. Why do you think I helped introduce you back into Society? Did you really think it was only as repayment for what you’d done for Nicholas?” She shook her head. “It wasn’t. You did well tonight. A few more nights like this and a marriage to you would not hurt my son in the least. And if anyone had anything to say about it, they could contend with
me
.”

Jane realized she had been holding her breath and let it all out in a loud exhalation that echoed in the silent hall around them. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. This all had to be a dream, didn’t it? Lady Bledsoe
wanted
her to marry Nicholas?

Suddenly Lady Ridgefield was at her elbow, patting her arm with clumsy affection.

“Ah, Lady Bledsoe, I’m so glad you have found us. Dear Jane has a touch of headache and I am going to take her home. But I think our night was a great success, don’t you?”

Lady Bledsoe held Jane’s gaze evenly. “A great success, indeed. Jane, I hope you will think of all I’ve said. Good evening, my dear, Lady Ridgefield.”

With a nod, the other woman turned away. And all Jane could do was stare after her.

“I’m going to marry Jane.”

Rage choked on his drink, the liquid nearly propelling across the room as Nicholas’s friend stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

Nicholas nodded. “You know what happened tonight.”

Rage shrugged. Nicholas had been telling him the entire story for the hour he’d been home.

“You said it yourself that since I must marry, I might as well marry someone I actually like. Someone I desire.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Rage said with a chuckle. “But what happened to marrying someone of higher rank in order to garner more acceptance from Society?”

Nicholas hesitated. That had been the original plan, but now it seemed untenable. Jane’s passionate defense of him tonight had been a stark reminder that he couldn’t truly live his brother’s life. He had to find some way to remain true to himself even while he continued to honor Anthony.

Jane seemed a damn fine beginning.

“Society can rot,” he growled, eliciting a grin from Rage. “I’ll play by some of their rules, but I won’t be miserable for them. Besides, when I marry Jane I may not elevate her status, but I can give her a great deal.” He pictured the way she had lit up in her beautiful gown. “She deserves to wear pretty clothes like she did tonight. To be able to look any of those biddies in the eye without shame.”

“It sounds like you have it all worked out,” Rage said with a sip of his drink.

Nicholas frowned. His friend sounded a bit…sarcastic.

“You’re the one who first suggested this, but now you don’t seem to approve. Do you not like Jane?”

“On the contrary, I like her a great deal,” Rage said, but offered no further explanation for his cryptic remark. “So when do you intend to ask for her hand?”

Nicholas shrugged. “I want her to have more time out in Society before I do so. My mother is working hard so that everyone will forget that she was forced to become a paid companion. If I allow Jane to become more accepted, it’s far less likely anyone will say anything impertinent about her later. A few weeks, perhaps.”

Rage tilted his head. There was question in his friend’s stare, but before he could voice it, the parlor door opened and Gladwell stepped inside.

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but you have a guest.”

“Jane?” Nicholas found himself saying as he stepped forward in anticipation. He missed their stolen nights together. Even more after tonight’s passionate encounter.

“No. It is Viscount Patrick Fenton, my lord, and he is quite insistent that he see you right away, despite the late hour.” Gladwell gave a sniff of disapproval that demonstrated just how
insistent
Jane’s cousin must have been.

Nicholas set his drink down with a loud, heavy clunk and stared at the butler.

“Patrick Fenton has the audacity to come
here
?” he said in disbelief.

Of course the man could have no idea of Nicholas’s hatred of him. This man had been the cause of Jane’s grief in so many ways. And he had dared put his hands on her. Which made Nicholas want to tear him apart piece by piece. Slowly.

“Send him in,” he said, low and harsh.

As the butler went to fetch his uninvited guest, Rage turned on him. “Hold on, mate. You can’t kill the man. They’ll put you away.”

“I’m not going to kill him,” Nicholas said with great difficulty. “At least, that isn’t my intention. In fact, I’m very interested in what he has to say.”

“Viscount Patrick Fenton, my lord,” Gladwell announced before he stepped back and allowed the gentleman to enter.

Nicholas had never seen Fenton before and was surprised by his appearance. He’d imagined some wrinkled old man, rubbing his hands together like a villain from a gothic story. The person who stood before him was far younger than Nicholas had pictured. In fact, they were likely of an age. And Fenton didn’t look nefarious, but young and handsome, rather like Jane’s brother. They shared the same dark hair. The same sharp green eyes.

“What can I do for you,
Lord Fenton
?” he asked, cold even though his rage was boiling hot below the surface.

“Good evening, Lord Stoneworth. Thank you for seeing me despite the late hour. I realize you did not expect me, but I would like to speak to you alone.” The other man looked at him, then glanced pointedly at Rage. “We have business of a very private nature.”

Rage cocked an eyebrow in Nicholas’s direction. It was a look that asked Nicholas what he wanted. He nodded toward the door silently, and his friend left without a word.

Once they were alone, Nicholas leaned back against the desk, folded his arms, and glared at Fenton. “Why don’t we dispense with pleasantries and you just tell me what the hell you want?”

“I had no doubt that Jane told you of all my horrible deeds,” Fenton said with a sad laugh. “I assume that is part of how she obtained your assistance.”

Nicholas straightened up. It seemed Fenton knew a great deal, but Nicholas had no intention of verifying any of his guesses.

“I don’t know what you’re going on about.”

Fenton arched a brow. “Let’s not play silly games, my lord. I’m not the kind of man who delights in them, and I somehow doubt you are, either. I know that you have been assisting my cousin Jane on her endless search for her brother. When she came to my home earlier this week, she mentioned someone was helping her.”

Nicholas’s eyes went wide. Jane had told him she said something to upset Patrick, but she hadn’t confessed
that
. It seemed her temper had gotten the best of her and loosened her tongue.

“When I saw the two of you together tonight at your mother’s ball, it didn’t take much to put the pieces together,” Fenton continued. “After all, you
do
have connections in the underground.”

Nicholas couldn’t help but be impressed. The man was intelligent, that was certain. That didn’t mean Nicholas liked him.

“When you refer to earlier in the week, do you mean the day you accosted her?” Nicholas asked mildly, although the idea of this bastard putting a mere finger on Jane inspired his rage.

To his surprise, Fenton’s chin dropped and his cheeks brightened with high color. “I will admit, I lost my temper. I did grab Jane’s arms. I frightened her and I hate myself for that. But you must understand, Stoneworth, I have been forced to endure her contempt, her hatred, her tirades, for nearly a year now. When she implied I might have had a hand in her brother’s disappearance…” He frowned, and a flash of frustrated anger lit up his expression. “Well, that was the last straw.”

Nicholas moved so swiftly that he was in front of Fenton before the man had a chance to react. He took pleasure in how his eyes widened in fear and surprise.

“You had no right to touch her,” he growled. “And if you ever repeat that mistake, I will make you wish you had never been born, the consequences be damned.”

There was a long moment of silence that hung heavy in the air between them, and then Fenton nodded.

“I understand you perfectly, Stoneworth.”

Nicholas raised his hands to demonstrate he had no intention of doing so tonight and backed away a few steps.

This man was confusing. Jane had described him in such terrible terms, and yet the person standing before him was very calm, even in the face of threats. He was afraid, which was sensible considering Nicholas’s reputation. But he was also composed. He didn’t back away or cower.

In short, Nicholas couldn’t read him. Which was an uncommon occurrence.

“What
do
you want, Fenton?” he asked.

“First, I came here because I sensed…” Fenton cleared his throat. “
Something
between you and my cousin. As her only living relative, I must tell you that I will not allow her to be compromised.”

“I intend to marry her,” Nicholas bit out, short.

Fenton’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and before he could cover the emotion, a flash of regret passed over his handsome features.

“I see,” he finally said.

And so did Nicholas. This man was in love with Jane. She didn’t know it, but he saw it as clearly as if Patrick had written it across the walls in bright red paint.

Patrick straightened his shoulders, and all his emotions were gone as if they had never existed. Nicholas had a grudging respect for his ability to do that.

“If that is your intent, then it is even more imperative that you know what I have come here to share.”

“And what is that?” Nicholas asked, folding his arms.

Patrick reached into his inside coat pocket and withdrew a packet of folded paper, bound with a red ribbon. Nicholas’s name had been printed neatly on the outside of the bundle.

“This
is the proof that Jane has been searching for so desperately,” her cousin said matter-of-factly.

Nicholas wrinkled his brow in confusion, but he took the package. As he carefully opened the sheets, Patrick paced away.

“As much as it pains me to say it, Marcus Fenton
is
dead.” The other man stopped at the window and looked outside at the inky black night. “He died over a year ago, probably in an opium den, though we will never know for certain. When Jane’s father got the proof from the letter you have there, he fell into a sadness and illness that killed him. But even in his devastated state, he made me promise I wouldn’t tell Jane. He feared she could not bear it after all the other loss and pain in her life.”

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “You and her father thought very little of her, then. She is stronger than you imagine.”

The other man turned slowly and looked Nicholas up and down. “Perhaps that is true. I
did
argue with her father that I could not hide the truth from her forever. But my uncle Samuel was always stubborn.” He smiled, and his affection for the man he spoke of was as clear as his frustration had been. “He insisted I wait until she was calm. Until she was ready to hear the truth. As you know, that moment has yet to come. She has fully convinced herself that I employed trickery to have Marcus declared dead, when in reality it was the second letter in the bundle there that convinced the courts.”