Undone by His Kiss (19 page)

“I’ve observed the way you look at Mr. St. David.” Portia stated in the matter-of-fact tone of a solicitor establishing his evidence in court.

The carriage pulled to a stop and Emily thanked the heavens for the distraction. Once inside, they greeted the nurses and walked through the long north wing until they came to the doorway leading into the courtyard. Several children played on the grass and with the sun high above, the day offered a rare opportunity to enjoy the morning weather without the usual threat of rain showers. Emily spotted the lad who’d given her the silver bracelet and he turned, a smile spreading across his face as he and a bundle of other children approached. Treats were distributed with haste, anxious little hands and gleeful laughter quick payment. When the basket was void of cinnamon biscuits, the ladies sat on a whitewashed bench, content to spend their time watching the children play.

“Financial independence. That’s the crux of the problem.” Thomasina blurted out her conclusion while the ladies woolgathered beside her. “It isn’t personal relationships which mar our choices for the future. It’s more that men have all the power and control. Women are castrated by pin money and dowry allowance.”

Portia giggled at the word castrate and then flattened her lips to adopt a solemn expression. “Women are imprisoned by society’s strict judgment of education, wardrobe, and title. It’s all rather humbling. I shouldn’t be judged by my marriageability. Most especially, when I wish to explore the world rather than settle in the country to produce offspring. Perhaps if it were possible to marry an open-minded man who didn’t censure his wife and instead, provided ample finances, I could believe in happily-ever-after.”

“You’ve been reading your mother’s gothic novels again, haven’t you?” Emily caught her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Only because they depict such enchanting faraway places.” Portia gave a delicate shrug with the explanation. “And one cannot always read geography tomes.”

“But they are fiction, Portia,” Emily emphasized before the trio laughed at the ridiculous course of their conversation.

“Good morning, ladies.” Dr. Alastar waved from the doorway and followed the slate path to where they sat beneath an umbrageous willow tree. “Thank you for bringing such brightness to the hospital.”

Emily ensured all introductions were made. “It is always our pleasure to pay a call. I especially wanted to check on the lad who arrived during my last visit.” Her eyes found the boy in the play yard. “He seems to have adjusted well.”

“Yes, that would be Franklin. It was a struggle at first to discover his name, but once he spent a few nights with the other children, his reluctance to interact evaporated.” Dr. Alastar nodded as he too sought to locate the lad at play. “Detecting his agitation, the nurses prepared lavender and lemon balm but Franklin wouldn’t drink it. With a wisdom beyond his years, Franklin’s decision had to be on his own terms. Either way, he calmed considerably and now seems to enjoy his days here.”

“Lavender and lemon balm?” Emily alerted to his last statement and faced the doctor who’d aligned with the bench. “Would such a mixture calm any person’s worries?”

“I believe so. I discovered the natural effectiveness of the combination while seeking alternative medications during my time at university. Laudanum is quickly prescribed for everything from coughing to headache, still I can’t condone use of opiate for common temporary apprehension. I believed there could be a natural remedy and consulted a local herbalist who was practiced with the use of plants and botanical remedies. He was generous with his time and I learned a depth of cures. That knowledge led me to experiment with different combinations. I’ve noticed lavender and lemon balm bring an ease to even the most frightened children and adults.”

“How very interesting and fortunate for me. I may have use of the information in the future. Thank you.” Her mind slid to her mother, and the unease that often held her captive. Of course, this morning Mother was attentive and alert, but Emily knew each day brought with it new circumstances.

“I would be happy to visit your home if you worry over someone in your family, Miss Shaw.”

The doctor lowered his voice and from the corner of her eye, Emily watched Portia and Thomasina retreat a polite distance. “Oh, no.” She waved her hand in blithe dismissal. “At times my mother is not herself. I wondered if this mixture might provide a calming alternative.”
Rather than compulsive letter writing or watching out the window for a carriage that will never pull to the curb.
Emily hemmed her lower lip. If only she could confide in the doctor. It would make her burden a great deal easier to carry.

“I’d be happy to help in any way I can.” He smiled with kindness and concern that befitted his profession.

“Thank you again. I appreciate your offer and know where to find you if I decide to try the elixir. My friends and I should be leaving now.” She returned his smile and after gathering the baskets and saying goodbye to the children, the ladies headed for home.

Chapter 20

Jasper dug his heels into the sides of his horse and allowed the animal free rein. It was too early for pedestrian traffic and as he raced the sunrise on Rotten Row, were some random passerby to recognize him atop One-Eyed Jack, he cared not a whit for the gossip carried to his brother. He needed to ride, and ride hard he did. The wind stung his face, whipped through his hair and caused his eyes to tear. The jolt to his senses offered the prescription no physician could provide.

Last night, when Miss Shaw placed her delicate hand across his heart, it took every iota of strength he possessed not to pull her into his arms to ravish through the night. So intense came the yearning, he hardly considered her response, only aware of what he wanted, needed, and craved; to taste her skin, feel her heat, bury himself deep in her silky sweet body.

Of course, Kell had changed all that, dispelling the intensely pleasurable fantasies with intrusive knocking. And while the viscount experienced frequent arguments with his father, heated and unresolved, it was rare for the altercation to come to fisticuffs. It symbolized a new level of estrangement that indeed, troubled Jasper.

Once Kell had unburdened his troubles and sobered a bit, he fell into a dead man’s slumber, exhausted and beyond dreams, but the role of caretaker had denied Jasper the luxury of relieving his pent up sexual frustration in the privacy of his bedchamber. He too went to bed, unfulfilled and without resolution, except unlike Kellaway, he dreamed. The result of such held him hostage, and woke him this morning, rock hard and discontented. Once he claimed control of his rioting emotions, he’d set off for a long ride relishing the freedom found in Jack’s hooves pounding the solid earth on the broad track, the long stretch of gravel and tan a welcome release.

He continued down the south side straightaway along an endless line of oaks and further in need of jettison. A few horse jobbers were out exercising their masters’ rides but they paid him no heed engrossed with the task at hand. In kind, the events of last night couldn’t distract from his purpose. He’d spent months planning his business venture, the investment in time and office space minor compared to the cost to his pride.

He reined in his mount with the abrupt realization. Pride? He would not become a victim. Dash had moments, less now that he’d married Wilhelmina, but still an occasional lapse occurred. Jasper had no wish to follow that haughty pattern. His intention was personal satisfaction, a place in the world all his own, without the automatic association born from being the younger brother to an earl. Pride had no place in the decision, more so sanity.

Holding Jack to a canter, he followed the curve in the roadway and pursued the path of his thoughts. Delectable, desirable Miss Shaw would have to wait. He’d secured few investments since opening his doors and success hinged on an abundance of lucrative clients. Besides, whenever he thought of the lovely lady, he lost all ability to reason; the tentative touch of her hand on his chest more the proof he needed. And too, he hadn’t missed her genuine curiosity and avid interest in the inventions littering his sitting room. No doubt she was as clever as she was beautiful.

Still one truth prevailed. The last thing he needed, the very last thing, was to fall in love at the start of this new enterprise. Not that he would fall in love. Stunning blue eyes the exact shade of…damn, nothing existed with that coloring; and soft sweet curves didn’t dictate his heart. He’d worked hard to keep his relationships casual, free from the slightest encumbrance of romantic pursuit.

Miss Shaw would be the death of him if she forever provoked all this indecision. Caution warned he’d invite a tangle of contrariness were he to indulge his innermost feelings.

He returned the way he’d come and entered his apartment to find Kellaway preparing to depart. “How’s the lip?”

“Bruised, but better off than the relationship with my father. As I explained, he’s burned the last bridge. I have nothing left to say to him and he can damn never speak to me again as long as he keeps his affairs private and his bastard children tucked away.”

“Tread carefully, Kell.”

“I always do.”

Later in the day, when he’d managed to force his concentration through a series of folders and reports at the office, Jasper pushed back from his desk and walked to the front window. He surveyed the bustling thoroughfare and wondered for the umpteenth time what Miss Shaw might be doing with her time, or whether she’d make an impromptu visit upstairs. Lost in these considerations and conflicted by his inability to focus, he startled when Randolph entered.

“Where have you been? We’re striving to keep this business from becoming an unmitigated disaster. I’ve spoken to you before about keeping solid hours.” Truly unfair of him to exorcise misplaced frustration on his friend, but Randolph was ripe for a reprimand and indeed showed late with perfunctory regularity. Jasper glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. Well, nearly late.

“I’ve come from the coffeehouse on York Street where I worked this afternoon, I assure you.” Randolph meandered to his desk and plopped into the chair, not a care in his knowledge box. “You’ll never guess who I met there and what transpired thereafter.”

“I believe you’re correct.” Jasper rubbed his temples. Conversation with Randolph didn’t facilitate clearheaded thinking even on the most prime days. “Why don’t you enlighten me?” His patience rapidly evaporated.

“Last evening I went to a
soirée
hosted by the second cousin of the Earl of Derby. A rare invitation. but one which arrived with excellent happenstance as I had nothing to do with my time and was feeling out of sorts.”

Randolph paused, but Jasper didn’t dare interrupt his friend’s verbal perambulation. He’d learned many years ago, it was best to bide time waiting for Randolph to address the true purpose of the conversation, otherwise one became lost in the twists and turns of his nugatory extemporization. As predicted, Randolph continued after a breath or two.

“At the gathering, I remarked in jest that the smoked salmon was overcooked and how the chewy consistency reminded me of India rubber.”

Jasper swiveled toward the window, one ear on Randolph’s explanation.
Was Miss Shaw walking to Bond Street today?

“No sooner were the words spoken, although I still chewed the salmon and it was rather poor manners on my part to speak with food in my mouth, than an older gentleman called my attention to the proposed use for rubber threads produced by Messers Perry and Company right here in London.”

A streak of orange fur intersected Jasper’s line of vision before it disappeared around the side of the building.
Was that the audacious cat who’d caused a ruckus last week, upsetting carriages and bringing Miss Shaw nose to nose with him in the middle of the street? Damn it all, he should have kissed her again.

“I took it upon myself to draw the gentleman into conversation, as I’d swallowed the salmon by then and didn’t dare eat another bite. I invited him to a meeting at the coffeehouse on York Street, the one I mentioned earlier. I’d only eaten there one other time, but recalled how the condiments were outstanding, most especially the fruit jams and jellies. Of course, the perfect accompaniment is the freshly ground coffee.”

Not quite coffee, Miss Shaw’s hair was more a chestnut color, hints of gold and red created by the sun just to please him. The minx would leave him undone.

“The coffeehouse is across the street from the rubber factory where the proprietor, Mr. Perry, experiments with something he calls vulcanized rubber bands. From what I can tell, he hopes people will fancy them to hold packets of papers and letters in stacks. At least, that’s the clever idea.”

Clever, yes, Miss Shaw was clever. She’d placed her trembling palm across his heart and his heart had answered in kind. He’d never forget the delicacy of her touch. How would it feel were her fingers to explore every part of him? Were they to trace across his abdomen…lower.

“From there, we crossed the street to speak to Mr. Perry.” Randolph leaned back and propped his feet on the desk’s edge. “Naturally, we finished our coffee and plumb bread first. I almost ordered the toast with marmalade, but I at the last minute, changed my mind. It was perhaps the smartest decision of the morning, for when the plumb bread arrived with fresh raspberry preserves, I couldn’t be more satisfied by the delectable selection. It proved a pleasant surprise.”

She was a pleasant surprise. A beautiful young woman, who believed in independent thinking, and at the same time ignited a driving need in him that urged he slip a ring on her finger and lock her inside his bedchamber for the rest of their lives.
He grinned with the image refusing to acknowledge the primitive possessive surge within.

“So you like the idea?” Randolph tapped his temple. “Had to truly strain my idea pot, but it proved worth the effort.” He popped from the chair and stood beside Jasper near the window. “I suppose Mr. Perry requires investors to bring this innovation to market once he’s perfected the process and we need clients. A perfect match.”