Lord Harry's Folly (36 page)

“You’ve no quarrel with me. I can’t help it if Brandon forces a fight.”

The marquess said, “My quarrel with you is of long standing, Filey.”

“I had nothing to do with Elizabeth and you can’t prove otherwise, damn you.”

“No, as you say, I can’t prove otherwise. Yet when I see you playing the same game once again, I cannot help but grow perturbed. With Elizabeth though, you enjoyed much more sport. After all, both I and Damien Rolland were involved. And that, Filey, has led me to wonder exactly how you managed to have Rolland removed from England with such exquisite timing.”

“Rolland? Your grace pulls the girth in the wrong direction. How could I have known what Rolland was about?”

“You must admit it was a curious coincidence. Elizabeth veered away from both of us, toward Damien. Then suddenly he is gone and the field is once again yours.”

“And yours as well, your grace.”

“Yes, but you see I had nothing to do with Damien’s leaving England. Whereas you, Filey, are really quite a bastard and would stop at nothing to gain what you wanted. Now I ask you again, what do you know of Damien Rolland?”

Sir William was uncertain. He would have liked very much to tell the marquess to go to the devil, but he knew that such a gesture would very probably cost him his life. He tried for an indifferent shrug. “Maybe Rolland realized that Elizabeth would make a very poor wife for an aspiring politician. Damn, I tell you, I know nothing about it. It’s the truth. I wondered when Damien left England, but I had nothing to do with it.”

He saw that the marquess was staring at him, an arrested expression in his eyes. Filey couldn’t figure out for the life of him just why the marquess should be so interested in Damien Rolland. Ancient history, he was, and Rolland, by all accounts, was killed last June at Waterloo. Who cared?

“Did you say Damien was an aspiring politician?”

Sir William was held a moment by surprise, before he said impatiently, “Something like that. Mentioned it when he was deep in his cups one evening. I gathered he didn’t want it bruited about. Yes, he was going to be a politician. I remember I laughed.”

The marquess looked decidedly thoughtful for several moments. “Very well, Filey, I will believe you but only in that matter. Now you will listen to me carefully. As I said, I grow perturbed that you play a new game with Isabella Bentworth and Harry Brandon.”

“It’s not a game, damn you. I intend to marry the chit. She pleases me. Yes, I’m going to marry her.”

“So she carries a more appetizing dowry than did poor Elizabeth, does she? Her innocence draws you more than Elizabeth’s? No, don’t bother to deny it, Filey. I grow quite bored with you. I will tell you this only once. You will never again speak to Isabella and you will apologize to Harry Brandon before the day is over. If you fail to comply with either of my requests, I’ll make you this promise: your dissolute son, whom I understand is following quite closely in your footsteps, will find himself the head of the family before the end of the week. Do I make myself clear?”

Hatred and fear blended into an indistinct blur in Sir William’s mind. He seemed suddenly not to have enough breath to fill his throat. There was a curious knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Do I make myself clear, Filey?”

He raised his eyes. His long-nurtured sense of self-preservation rose to the fore. He nodded slowly, hating himself for nodding, hating the marquess for making him feel such bone-deep fear.

“Excellent. I fancied that we could arrive at an amicable solution.” The marquess turned, then said over his shoulder, “Incidentally, I’m quite certain the earl of March will be at White’s this evening. He will, of course, be very interested in your behavior.” Without waiting for Sir William to reply, he strode away, leaving his defeated adversary to roundly curse a hapless footman.

The marquess arrived at Sir Archibald’s town house within the hour, his mind greatly relieved on one score and utterly scrambled on the other. He didn’t disbelieve Sir William in his recounting of Damien’s political ambitions. Sir William had, he was certain, thought it most unimportant, and thus blurted it out without a moment’s hesitation. Indeed, the marquess wondered, as he pounded the knocker, was it important? Surely Sir Archibald must have known if Damien had wished to follow in his footsteps. He had to have known. God, Sir Archibald breathed politics. It was his bread and his wine. It was everything to him. As painful as the subject must be to Sir Archibald, he had to ask.

“Your grace.”

“Good afternoon, Grimpston. I trust our Miss Henrietta is home?”

“I shall ascertain, your grace,” Grimpston said, giving him a fat smile.

“Oh my God, Jason, thank goodness you’re here.”

The marquess looked up to see a distraught Hetty speeding down the staircase toward him. “Quickly, oh my goodness, we must do something now. I’ve just gotten a message from Harry. The silly nodcock, he means to take matters into his own hands. The bloody fool, he promised he’d let me see to things. Oh, I’ll kill him for this.”

The marquess clasped her hands. “Why don’t we discuss this in the drawing room, Hetty? Grimpston, some brandy, if you please. Your mistress’s nerves seem to be teetering on the edge. The first time I’ve seen her in such a state. It’s disconcerting. It’s very female. I will tolerate it, but I don’t like it.”

“Yes, your grace. Certainly, your grace.”

She managed to get ahold on herself. “I’m sorry for sounding like a ninny. I’ll thank you not to mock me. This is important. Please come to the drawing room and I’ll tell you everything.”

No sooner had Hetty snapped the drawing-room door closed, than she whirled about. “Jason, you’ll not believe this but the most terrible thing has happened. Harry wrote me that is, he wrote Lord Harry a letter. Yes, a letter. I didn’t even know that Harry could pen more than one sentence without dire concentration. But a whole letter. He wrote that he intended to resolve the matter just as Lord Harry had done. Jason, I know what he intends. It’s a duel, of course. My God, Filey might kill him. We must do something.”

“I have.”

“Oh my God, it’s all my fault. If I that is, if Lord Harry hadn’t insisted upon such bravado, such arrogant behavior, I’m persuaded that such a thing would never have occurred to Harry. That is, it might have occurred to him, but he would have sought counsel from the earl of March. Only Lord Harry can talk him out of this. I must go, don’t you see, I must.”

“No, you must not.”

“It’s easy for you to be so bloody calm, for Harry isn’t a special friend. Don’t you understand, Jason, only Lord Harry can put a stop to this?”

“I suspect that there are others just as persuasive as Lord Harry.”

She stamped her foot and heard the rip of muslin. “Damnation, just look at what you’ve made me do. I have only three gowns and now I’ve ruined another one. No, that’s idiotic. Who cares? I have no more time to indulge in useless arguments with you. I don’t care what you may think of me, but Lord Harry must come out again. I’m sorry, Jason, but it is something I can’t ignore. It’s my duty and Harry is my friend.”

“But I’m not arguing with you, Hetty. Now will you be seated and calm yourself?”

“I’m quite calm, I will have you know. You will not be condescending or treat me like a half-wit. Now, your grace, if you will excuse me.”

“I won’t excuse you. Now sit.”

“Ha! Go to the devil.”

The marquess sighed. “You’ve already consigned me to that rather warm clime, and, despite your repetition, I have no intention of complying. Now, before I have to tie you down, come here and listen to me.”

“Oh very well, but only for five minutes. Surely five minutes is more than enough time for whatever you have to say, which can’t be all that much of interest. Very well, talk.” She sat down on the very edge of her chair, her toe tapping, her fingers tented together.

“Didn’t you promise to give me a chance in this affair?”

“Yes, but”

“You doubt my abilities so much, Hetty?”

“No, it isn’t that. It’s that everything has changed, gone awry. Now it’s not a question of fleeing to Gretna Green, it’s a question of saving Harry’s damned life.”

“No, it’s not a question of Gretna Green. Indeed, it is no longer a question of anything, even Harry’s damned life.”

“No longer what the devil do you mean?”

The marquess grinned down at her. “My dear, if you would but adopt the habit of listening to me, you would save yourself a lot of wasted energy. As it happens, I was present at White’s when Harry was in the midst of flinging his gauntlet in Filey’s face, so to speak. I, of course, put a stop to it. As a matter of fact, Filey will be apologizing to Harry this evening at White’s. Further, he will never again speak to Isabella, so you can put your mind to rest. And Lord Harry Monteith. The good Lord grant him peace forever, in the North somewhere.”

“You put a stop to it? Truly?”

“Wouldn’t you have expected me to?”

“Yes, of a certainty, but”

“It’s not kind of you to doubt my word, Henrietta. Now, please sit back, I don’t want you to fall off your chair.”

“You mean it’s all settled?”

“Please don’t sound so disappointed, sweetheart. Lord Harry can’t be expected to right every wrong. We other poor mortals do occasionally succeed, you know.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. Well, not precisely. You did all that? Filey will apologize to Harry? Goodness, that’s very impressive.” She bounded out of her chair, ignoring the slight pulling in her side, clasped her arms around his back and stood on her tiptoes, her lips pursed.

“Open your mouth, love,” he said, his breath warm on her lips. Even as she parted her lips, she felt the warmth of his breath inside her mouth, the touch of his tongue. “Oh,” she said, and just stood there, holding him tightly to her, feeling all of him, letting him kiss her and kiss her yet again until her eyes were closed, her mouth soft and wet from him, and he was hard against her belly.

“Hetty, I must stop,” he said, and his voice sounded wonderfully tormented. He didn’t want to stop, she realized, and she didn’t want him to. It was new, all these feelings that were raging through her, making her urgent and warm and wanting to grin like a fool, making her want to moan with the pleasure of his mouth, the pleasure of him holding her, the pleasure of having him just be him.

“Please, don’t,” she said. “This is so very nice, Jason. Can’t we have a bit more?”

He wanted to curse. She didn’t realize, she had no idea what she was asking of him, but he”All right,” he said, and his hands were all over her, caressing her breasts through the muslin of her bodice, wild on her bottom, pushing her hard against him, pressing her, feeling her and knowing she was enjoying all of it and wanting more. He looked at the sofa. He looked at the Aubusson carpet in front of the fireplace. Even the winged chair was good sized. Oh hell, she was a virgin. He had no intention of teaching her about lovemaking on a damned carpet. Then he smiled. Why not? Very gently, he eased her onto his lap and sat in the winged chair that faced the fireplace. He kissed her, never stopping, and his hand eased up beneath her gown. He felt her stockings, felt the garters at midthigh. He felt her breath hitch when his hand touched her bare thigh. “Ah, Hetty, you’re so warm. Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him. “What are you going to do?”

He eased his fingers higher, so close, so very close to her warm female flesh. He paused. “I want to make love to you but you’re a virgin. When we make love it will be on our wedding night and in a very large soft bed. But for now, I just want to give you pleasure. Will you let me? Will you trust me?”

“What are you going to do?”

His fingers lifted then came down gently over her. He cupped her, his fingers dipping inward.

“Oh,” she said, staring up at him. “No one has ever touched me there before. Are you certain it’s done?”

“All the time,” he said as he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ll like it very much. Will you trust me to give you pleasure, to let you know that I want you very much and that what you feel is important to me?”

She felt those fingers of his, one of them easing slowly inside her and she couldn’t believe it, yet, as Lord Harry she did know just about everything, but still, she didn’t know about this. Then another finger was touching her, lightly stroking, lightly, then more forcefully and she blinked even as she moaned deep in her throat and her hips pressed up against those fingers of his.

“Jason, I don’t know about this. I don’t really feel all that normal.”

“Hush,” he said and leaned down to kiss her. His tongue touched hers even as his finger was moving more deeply inside of her. His thumb was now caressing her and she couldn’t believe what it made her feel, what it made her want to do, and that was to cry out and move and jerk about and go into an absolute frenzy.

She did several minutes later. She cried out into his mouth even as the incredible climax sent her spinning into an oblivion that held him and her together and it was something she couldn’t have imagined. It was something she wanted forever.

“I love you,” he said into her mouth as the rhythm of his fingers gently slowed, as he stroked to calm her rather than excite her. “Yes, that’s it. I’ll make you feel those wonderful things every day of your life. All right?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling vague and a bit dizzy and perfectly wonderful. “But I know that your sex must come inside me for you to have pleasure. Do you like that as much as I just did?”

He grinned down at her. “You can’t begin to realize what it will be like between us. Not just me being inside you, but there’s so much more. We will marry in two weeks. No, in a week, all right? I can’t wait longer, Hetty. Actually I don’t think you can either. If I’m to protect my reputation, no more than a week. All right?”

“Oh yes,” she said and sighed. “I thought that the entire sex business was really rather foolish. Men drooling over females and females just letting them do it since they were paid to let them. But that was wonderful. Why would you want to pay me? I’ll pay you.”