Julia Justiss (27 page)

Her chin jerked up, her eyes searching his. “You cannot mean…”

“’Tis exactly what I mean. When I left you at Bellehaven, I’d resigned myself to do what duty and my intention, before I met you, indicated—to look for a well-bred, intelligent, compatible lady to make my wife. Over the past weeks, I have met dozens who fit that description. But none who warms my heart like you do or—” he paused, brushing his finger over her lips, that simple action sending a shudder through her frame and his “—who awakens my senses simply by walking into a room. No other lady inspires me with the desire to swing her in circles or denude the landscape of wildflowers to make her a bouquet. I love you, Belle.
You
are the only well-bred, intelligent, compatible lady I want.” He pushed off the sofa to go down on one knee before her. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “You are serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“But…but you can’t have considered! ’Twould be disastrous—”

He put a finger to her lips. “I have considered. The lady I love at my side, or a marriage of convenience to a woman to whom I could never pledge more than respect. My happiness versus the superficiality of social acceptance.”

“Do not despise what has always been yours.”

“I don’t discount it—but neither do I prize it above all else. Once what happened to you becomes known, you may find that social acceptance is not beyond the realm of possibility for you, either. But whether that proves true or not, I’m no more a creature of London than you, Belle. I mean to live at Carrington Grove. We could be happy there. Please, say you will let us try.”

“And are you willing to gamble your family’s position on the unlikely possibility that society might forgive me my past? The future of your innocent sister?”

She had struck the one weak link in his argument. “No,” he admitted with a sigh. “Though I intend to do my utmost to persuade you to marry me, I do not propose for us to wed until Dorrie is safely settled. I know you prize your independence. Life has given you little reason to place any trust or confidence in men of our rank. But for the few months until Dorrie marries, will you promise to at least consider my proposal, Belle?”

She gazed at him, regret, exasperation—and longing—in her eyes. “’Tis preposterous.”

“Indeed.”

“I ought to refuse you outright.”

“Perhaps you should. After all, I’m not of whole mind. You now occupy too much of it for me ever to be whole again—without you at my side. Have pity on this poor, doomed sufferer…and say yes.”

She was wavering, he could tell. And so in one swift movement he reached to cup her face and kissed her.

He remembered the times—too many times—on campaign when the supply wagons had fallen behind the troops, when they’d hunted hares and foraged for roots and berries to sustain them. But in his leanest days, he had never hungered for anything as much as he had for this kiss.

He’d meant it to be a gentle, respectful salute. But apparently she’d missed him, too, for almost immediately her arms came up to encircle his neck, her nails biting into his
back, her mouth opening to his and her tongue plunging in, as if she could not taste him deeply enough.

Her unexpectedly passionate response instantly overwhelmed the tight rein he’d been maintaining over his simmering senses. After weeks without her, it took every ounce of his soldier’s control to keep himself from laying her back on the sofa, popping open his trouser buttons and thrusting them into the intimate contact she seemed to crave as much as he did. Arms wrapped around her, his hard length sheathed within her, making them both complete.

Hands fisted and neck corded with the strain of caging the desire roaring through him, he broke the kiss, shaking as he pushed her away and waited for his voice to steady enough for speech. “P-promise me.”

He felt gratified that her breathing took just as long to control. “I…I’ll consider it. But only after your sister is married. And only if your family agrees.”

That was enough, more than he’d dared hope for. “So be it.” He gave a ragged laugh. “Given how anxious I am to claim you as my bride, I shall have to hurry Dorrie’s young man to the sticking point. And once her engagement is announced, I shall haunt your door until you accept me just to clear your entryway of my carcass.”

“Perhaps it is just as well that I shall soon be returning to Bellehaven.”

His enthusiasm dimmed. “When? And why must you go?”

“I always meant to spend this Season at Bellehaven. I’ve worked for too many years to insure Kitty’s success to risk
having some sharp-eyed, scandal-minded ton gossip tumble to the resemblance between us, as you did.”

“But I noticed only because I was looking for it.”

“Nonetheless, ’tis a chance I’m not prepared to take.”

Disappointed though he was, Jack could understand her caution. “Leave if you must. But you should expect me at Bellehaven soon, prepared to be my most persuasive!”

Her eyes held a tenderness that made his heartbeat speed like drums beating the advance. “But now you must go before someone sees you and realizes I am in London.”

He captured her hand and kissed it. “I shall go because you ask it—and because I can now look forward to the day when I shall never have to leave you again.”

She smiled, but did not reply in kind. He told himself not to be disappointed, that what she’d said to him thus far was more than sufficient.

“Goodbye, Captain Carrington,” she said as he bowed himself to the door. “My dearest Jack.”

His heart warmed with delight at that addendum. But as he reached the threshold, he couldn’t help pausing to pose one last question. “Do you love me, Belle?”

Surprise flashed in her eyes and she hesitated. He damned the yearning that had compelled him to ask, pushing her to a declaration she might not yet be ready to make.

He should give her time, let her adjust to the idea of wedding him. Keep her secrets, prove himself worthy of her trust and confidence. He was about to tell her to disregard the question when she softly said, “Yes.”

Dizzy euphoria made his ears ring, as if a battery of nine-pounders had fired right behind him.

“Then anything is possible.” Bowing once more, he walked out.

H
IS HEART INFUSED
with hope, Jack arrived home to discover he would not have to make the rounds of the clubs, searching out Dorrie’s James. As he walked in, the butler informed him that Lord Winston awaited him in the study.

His sister’s ardent suitor speedily confirmed he had come on precisely the errand Jack suspected. After agreeing to have their solicitors hammer out the details of the settlements and sharing a celebratory glass of port, Jack sent the young man off to find Dorrie.

Smiling, Jack warmed the glass in his hands. First Belle’s agreement to consider his suit, then Winston coming up to scratch. It apparently being an auspicious day for matrimony, perhaps he should begin the siege to conquer the last bastion that would likely oppose his own.

Time to seek out Mama.

First, he’d weaken her defenses with a barrage of good news about Lord Winston’s proposal. Then he’d lob the bombshell about his own plans.

The housekeeper told him Lady Anne was in the back parlor, going over the day’s menus. She looked up when he entered, fixing on him eyes as dark as his own, then
smiled a welcome as he crossed the room to plant a kiss atop her glossy chestnut curls.

“I missed you at breakfast, Jack. You must have had an appointment very early. Something to do with that business that took you from town so unexpectedly?”

“Yes, although more of that later. First, I must tell you I’ve just approved James Winston’s suit. He’s gone to propose to Dorrie.”

“Wonderful!” mother exclaimed. “He is an excellent young man, do you not think, Jack? I believe he and Dorrie shall make a very happy match of it.”

Jack agreed, then let his mother run on for a few minutes expounding with delight on the character of her prospective son-in-law and the tasks to be accomplished in preparing for the wedding.

When at last her observations slowed, he said, “I believe they will be happy. Certainly they both seem set on the match. As it happens, I am set on one of my own.”

That volley effectively silenced all her chatter about wedding details. “You sly thing!” she exclaimed. “You developed a tendre for some young lady right under my nose, and I never noticed?”

“It didn’t precisely happen under your nose.”

Her smile of delight faded a bit. “Someone you met outside of London? Oh, not some Parisian lady, I do pray! Come now, don’t make me guess! Who is she?”

“Someone of whom, initially, you may not approve, although I hope to convince you otherwise. A wonderful, intelligent lady. The ton knows her as Lady Belle.”

Shock flared in her eyes before she gave him a reprov
ing look. “Jack, if you mean that as a jest, I do not find it funny.”

“Nor do I, Mama. I’m entirely serious.”

He heard her tiny gasp of dismay when she realized he meant exactly what he’d said. She remained silent a long time—probably searching for diplomatic words in which to inform her only son he’d run mad.

“When you returned to us after your accident,” she began at last, “I suspected you had conceived a…a tendre for the woman. But the sort of passion she inspires, intensified I do not doubt by the rivalry among the men over who will next possess her—”

“Stop, Mama!” Jack interrupted, his tone harsher than he’d intended. “Never speak of her in such terms.”

Her mouth still open after being halted in midspeech, his mother stared at him. “You truly are in thrall to her,” she said a moment later. “Oh, Jack, my darling son, I do not mean to disparage her attractions. Only please, for my sake, do not rush into something you would then have a lifetime to regret!”

“I appreciate that you did not immediately point out the disadvantages attaching to such a match for you and Dorrie. And they are many. But before you convict me of having lost my wits, my sense of what is due the family, and my honor, will you hear what I have to say?”

“Of course.”

In a few succinct sentences, he conveyed to her all he had learned about the death of Belle’s parents, Bellingham’s deception and her subsequent life. “She is not some urchin off the streets who used her wits and beauty to claw
herself to a select position among the muslin company, Mama. But a lady born and raised. What if it had been Dorrie stranded alone, frightened, destitute in some rural inn far from home?”

His mother shuddered. “I don’t wish to consider it.”

“I assure you I have,” he replied grimly. “And I cannot find it in my heart to condemn Belle for what happened afterward. Her real name is Constance, Mama—and ‘steadfast’ she was. Despite the appalling situation in which she found herself, she stayed true to the values of her youth, endured years of isolation and shame to protect her sister—Dorrie’s friend, Catherine. I believe she has been punished enough for a disaster not of her making.”

After giving his mother another moment to ponder all he’d said, he continued, “Since Belle is probably correct in assuming that marrying her will mean we will both be cut by society, I shall not pursue her until Dorrie is safely leg-shackled. I don’t want to spoil the end of her Season or her wedding with scandal. Then, however, if I can persuade Belle to have me, I mean to marry her. Would you accept her as the choice of my heart?”

He knew his mother to be honest and fair, a lady who appreciated but did not boast about or overvalue the high estate to which she’d been born. Even so, requesting that she approve Belle, a woman whom Lady Anne’s friends and peers would probably always associate with sophisticated vice, was asking a great deal.

“What happened to her was despicable,” she said after pondering for a few minutes. “For all my privileged position, I know the evils of which the world—and men—are
capable. We women have so little power or control over our lives, I would be a traitor to my sex if I were to condemn Belle for what befell her when she was young and defenseless. If she truly is who you claim her to be and not some vile adventuress, I will accept her.”

Jack exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mama. Your blessing is all I seek. You mustn’t think that, once I convince her to marry me, I shall expect you to include us in your social gatherings. My only regret in loving Belle is knowing our marriage shall very likely cause you and Dorrie embarrassment, regardless of how much we distance ourselves from you.”

Lady Anne sniffed. “If it comes to that, the happiness I have in the company of my son and the woman he loves will be more than sufficient compensation for any decrease in invitations to balls and parties—which are generally a dead bore anyway. But it may not have to come to that. Lady Belle is actually Catherine’s elder sister?”

“Yes.”

“Germayne…” his mother said. “The family name is unfamiliar. Do you know to whom they may be related?”

“Both Belle and Catherine said their father was a younger son of a younger son. And they indicated the cousins who took Catherine in were distant relations.”

“I shall have to make some discreet inquiries of Lady Abrams. You know how much ton families are interconnected. ’Tis likely the Germaynes are related to someone more noble and influential, however remotely. Perhaps I shall be able to garner more support for your lady than you think.”

“Your blessing is all that matters to me.”

His mother smiled. “You shall always have that. Now, I shall send you off to exert your persuasive powers. I’m anxious to meet the lady who has stolen my son’s heart—and soon, not some months hence, after Dorrie’s wedding.”

“I shall do my best, Mama. And thank you.”

He bent to kiss her cheek. His confidence and enthusiasm soaring at her approval and with the knowledge that, in claiming the woman he loved, he would not have to sacrifice the family he loved as well, he walked out.

Now to convince that lady to let him claim her.

S
EVERAL DAYS LATER
, Belle gazed out the window as her carriage turned into the drive at Bellehaven. Despite her confused and restless state, she felt her spirits lift with the sense of belonging that had filled her from the first day she’d viewed the property that was now her home.

Jack’s unexpected proposal had left her so unsettled she’d decided to return to the country immediately. Pausing only long enough to pen him a note informing him of her departure, she’d packed a few necessities and been on the road by the afternoon after his morning call.

Though the long journey without Mae’s company left her plenty of time for reflection, she’d not managed to sort out her turmoil of emotions. Elation that he truly loved her and awe at his proposal warred with the old anger at having been stripped of the position in life that would have made her an acceptable bride for him. Despair at having to live the rest of her days without him mocked the tenu
ous but unquenchable hope that somehow, he might find a way for them to be together. Beneath all was an exasperation with her wild swings of mood and the muddle into which they’d cast her normal clear thinking.

Doubting both her judgment and her ability to resist seeing Jack or trying to contact her sister had made leaving London doubly urgent, for if Jack missed her half as much as she missed him, the temptation to call on her again—and for her to receive him—would be nearly overwhelming. Better, safer for herself and her sister, that she be here at Bellehaven, where she had the house, garden and farms to tend, work that would prevent her from drifting aimlessly from room to room, as she had much of her time in London, half listening for the knock on the door that would signal a visitor’s arrival.

Mindful of Egremont’s warning, she had left Watson to watch over Mae, carrying with her instead two of Jackman’s former soldiers. Though she doubted she would need protecting, their presence would satisfy Egremont’s concern for her safety.

She’d also brought Jem. Supervising the boy, whose high spirits were matched only by a near-complete lack of moral scruples, had been exhausting poor Lawton. Catapulted into the unfamiliar world of the English countryside, perhaps Jem would be less inclined to wander about exercising his skills at petty thievery. The soldiers could earn their keep instilling a bit of discipline in him while they assisted the grooms in continuing his training with the horses.

To her relief, unlike the town-bred Mae, the town-bred
youth had found everything about their journey and the scenery through which they traveled interesting. John Coachman had been mercifully patient, answering the rapid battery of questions Jem continually fired from his position on the bench beside him.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Jem startled her by appearing outside her window, dangling by one arm from his perch on the box. “Would that big mansion up on the hill there be ourn?” he asked.

“It is,” she confirmed with a smile. “But please, Jem, get back up on the seat! I don’t want to end our journey by having you trampled under the carriage wheels.”

His low whistle reached her ears as he obligingly clambered back up. “Cor!” she heard him exclaim to the coachman. “Jem be coming up in the world now!”

Chuckling, she settled back in her seat, glad she’d decided to bring the boy along. His fresh viewpoint and the mischief he would certainly kick up might distract and entertain her, keep her from dwelling on the uncertainties that continued to plague her.

T
HREE DAYS LATER
, trapped indoors by a heavy rain, Belle found herself pacing the parlor. Her household chores were already done, her account books up to date, and neither the novel she’d begun nor the desultory game of billiards she’d attempted could hold her interest. Despite arguing to herself that such a thing was ridiculous, she couldn’t shake this restless sense of expectancy.

Why could she just not accept that, despite his vows to the contrary, Jack would not be coming after her? She’d
all but guaranteed such an outcome by demanding he cease pursuing her unless his family agreed to a relationship between them. Which, no matter how well settled marriage might make his sister, they probably would not.

His mother was an earl’s daughter—and therefore most unlikely to accept having her family name besmirched by the infamy of her son’s marriage to a well-known courtesan, however genteel her origins.

Besides, Jack might think
now
that he preferred her company to retaining the position he occupied among the ton, but later, once the heat of passion cooled, would he regret his bargain? He was too honorable ever to disavow her if they wed, no matter how dissatisfied he might become with his self-inflicted banishment. The only heartache worse than living
without
him would be to live
with
him and watch the man she loved become a silent, stoic stranger, forever regretting the folly that had prompted him to make her his wife.

Even imagining it made her shudder.

A knock sounded at the door and Jem bounded in. “There be a gent to see ye—not the captain,” he added, quelling the automatic leap of her pulse.

Before she could tell Jem to admit the visitor, the door opened again. There on the threshold, his gray eyes sweeping her with a glance, stood Lord Rupert.

He made her a bow. “I thought to spare you the trouble, if you had any inclination to deny me. You may go, boy,” he added, with a wave at Jem.

Jem drew his scrawny body up to full height. “I go when the lady says go.”