Undone by His Kiss (24 page)

“It doesn’t matter, does it?”

The despairing finality in Bianca’s voice warned there was little else to say. They fell silent in each other’s embrace, waiting patiently for the inevitable reality of it all to cease causing pain.

Jasper finished his drink and signaled the waitress for another as he sat beside Kellaway in a dim booth of The Hound’s Tooth Tavern. All around them men laughed, argued, and over-imbibed, but the typical crowd served a dual purpose as Kell had requested his company and Jasper was ripe for the distraction, his uncompromised agitation a result of stunning blue eyes and silky soft legs, the memory etched in his brain with indelible force. Across the room a sudden burst of laughter made heads turn. Someone slapped a palm on a nearby table, the vibration upon wood causing the sound of clinking glass. People celebrated and lamented, the tavern thick with conversation, pipe smoke, and the smell of broiled fowl.

“I’m for Brighton if my father decides to stay in London for the season.” Kell’s adamant tone underscored how futile an attempt to convince him otherwise would prove.

“Is there any way I can help?” The waitress arrived with their food and drink and Jasper waited before continuing the conversation. “I’ve never seen you this disturbed by your father’s actions before. Has something changed?” He glanced at Kellaway’s cracked lip, still swollen from when he’d come to blows.

“Society might prefer bandying gossip about my parents’ antics, but I’ve grown tired of hearing distasteful tales and discovering yet another half-sibling or paramour secreted about the city. A man can only tolerate so much. I may be their only true blood, but with no idea what the future holds, I’d appreciate if my father kept his discretions tucked out of sight.”

“I understand.” Jasper sliced the venison on his plate, not wishing to prod for particulars. His parents had enjoyed a marriage of fidelity and happiness. Someday Jasper wished for the same. A fast flash of chestnut tresses and sweet kissable lips whispered to mind. Whatsoever would he do about Miss Shaw? And goddammit why hadn’t he learned her first name as of yet?

“He’s miserable. Something in the past made him resent my mother more than I’ll every understand, but his desire to see her embarrassed has resulted in a bevy of half-siblings, and my discontent. Is it any wonder I float from party to party?”

Jasper answered with a nod, not willing to commit to a definitive answer. Kellaway was driven by all the wrong reasons, fated to be a bounder and reckless in every sense, but now was not the time to address his friend’s fatalistic journey to ruin. Far be it for Jasper to inject a deeper tenebrific tone into their conversation. He would provide a sympathetic ear as needed.

They parted as soon as their late lunch ended and as Jasper hailed a hack and returned to his office, he found his mind occupied with Miss Shaw’s intoxicating caresses and not so timid kisses. Any man would succumb to her delectable charms. It remained a wonder he hadn’t become addle-brained from the unfathomable force of longing that took root the first time he laid eyes on her.

He paid the hack and aimed at the building, not at all surprised to see that glaucous tabby skulking near the side of the building. He’d noticed the stray on most days, always a quick reminder of the incident in the street when Miss Shaw and he thought to rescue the feline only to find themselves captivated, nose to nose, poised for a kiss.

Unlocking the door and entering, he made a fire and set to work, determined to set aside all distraction and concentrate on business. His future depended on it and while Dash had kept quiet of late, Jasper would not offer any opportunity for his endeavor to be undermined. And so he set about reading Perry’s reports and resisting the urge to glance out the window in hope by some stray stroke of serendipity, Miss Shaw might appear.

Chapter 24

Emily knew her foolish decision to venture out for a walk alone placed her in harm’s way. Anyone with a sliver of good sense was aware of the potential dangers, yet somehow the foreboding knowledge didn’t stop her, the need to separate from her home worth the risk. Any one of her friends would have welcomed her company but the responsibility of explanation or conversation halted that plan. The desire to be alone and detached, demanded she leave the town house this afternoon if only for a short respite. And too, wasn’t taking responsibility for oneself a large component of independence? She scoffed. How foolish, aware of her true impetus.

The sharp clack of her slippers against the sidewalk kept pace with her thoughts as she departed Nelson Square. She’d never spoken to her mother is such harsh tone, never uttered the disappointment, the well of hurt and resentful memories, and now with great despair realized she felt no better for having evinced it all in blunt recitation.

To add to her regret, while her mother had stayed beside her on the bed, seemingly accepting of this confession, a few moments later she’d risen, again furiously agitated, returning to her own bedchamber where she slammed the door.

The swift change of mood combined with Emily’s destroyed hope proved too much. She’d spoken to Mary briefly and left straight after.

As Emily crossed to Bond Street, the office in view, her heart leapt, confirming an unspoken truth. She wished to see Jasper; to find solace in the comfort of his arms and delirious thrill of his kisses. Perhaps then, for a bit, she’d forget all that pained her, and he’d replace her sadness with revelation, a balm to her soul.

When she reached the large glass window of the lower office, no one was visible and her heart beat a hiccup of disappointment, prompting her to quickly find the key for the side door. The same tabby who’d upset the flow of traffic last week milled in front of the entrance, curling against a white plaster column in wait. She leaned down to stroke its fur, feeling a kinship in want of attention, but instead of appreciative succor, the cat howled with livid complaint. Taken aback, Emily stared at the creature in confusion, at once noticing the cat’s bloody paw and the silver glint of metal visible between its toes.

Without further pause she scooped the animal into her arms and hurried up the stairwell, placing the cat on the counter near the sink and lighting a few lanterns. She set to work inspecting the damage and discovering an abandoned tack, no doubt lost from a horse’s shoe, had wedged at a jagged angle between the soft pads on the underside of the cat’s front paw. Removal should progress easily enough although Emily wondered at how much discomfort the animal would feel as she wriggled the nail free. It would appear today was about plucking loose painful thorns and healing wounds.

Rolling up her sleeves in preparation, she washed her hands and sought the catch to release her charm bracelet concerned it might get in the way or draw the attention of the cat while she worked the nail loose. As if to signal a need to hurry, the cat let out another pained yowl, and she startled, the bracelet slipping through her wet fingers to slither straight down the porcelain sink into the drain.

She stared at the dark hole in shock, all at once at odds with the circumstances at hand and her desire to retrieve her bracelet. With haste, she wet a towel to brace against the feline’s paw with one hand, and then without further deliberation, pulled the tack free. Again the cat yowled though this time the sound followed with a purr resonate with gratitude. The cat set to work at once to soothe the soreness with attentive ministrations.

Free to investigate her next problem, Emily wriggled her fingers down the drain, feeling nothing in return. Drying her hands, she dropped to her knees and viewed the length of pipe that protruded into the wall, unfamiliar with indoor plumbing and its newfangled invention beyond the simplest of uses.

“Oh dear,” she muttered in frustrated concession.

She could only surmise the pipe flowed downward to intercept with the workings in the office below. Good heavens, there was nothing for it. How would she reclaim her bracelet? She’d grown fond of the collection of charms as it reminded of the good work she pursued at the Foundling Hospital and the children’s lives she improved because of her efforts.

Her feline patient, much improved, had bounded from the counter and now wove a figure eight pattern in front of the door in want of freedom. Emily complied, following the cat as it skittered down the stairs to wait by the front door, a flick of its tail the only signal of impatience. With a huff, Emily let the animal free, no encouragement necessary. Then she turned and faced the door to
Inventive Investments
. Perhaps Jasper could help recover her bracelet. It went against the grain to call on his assistance yet another time, but then hadn’t she hoped to see him? Hadn’t she sought him out, walking the blocks needed to put herself in his path and perhaps in his arms?

She quietly opened the door and stepped inside. He was seated at his desk and her pulse lurched when his gaze met hers.

“Miss Shaw? What brings you about this late in the afternoon?”

He appeared just as she’d envisioned; his dark hair unruly, a lock having fallen over his brow, his green eyes aglitter, accompanied by an easy smile. The impact of his handsomeness registered in her heart.

“I’ve lost my bracelet.” What did she say? Good heavens, she’d sound a blithering idiot. She hadn’t paused to greet him, instead easing into his office in like manner to the bracelet slipping down into the pipe. But as she’d become accustomed, Jasper answered in beat with her statement, as if he possessed an intuitive understanding of her.

“The one with the silver dove?” His eyes briefly slued to the design on his office window. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? How may I help you?”

Kiss me.

Emily cleared her throat to dismiss her brain’s ridiculous misfire and produced a short laugh instead. “It slid down the drain upstairs and I’m not sure how to retrieve it.” She wouldn’t dare mention the cat’s involvement for fear he’d think her bird-witted. They hadn’t spoken since their last moments together, when he’d touched her intimately and she’d melted in a puddle of surrender. Best to keep all conversation factual and direct in nature. “We’re not nearly as advanced at home where water is still carried in by pail.”

“Of course. Cummings plumbing innovations are not widespread as of yet, but it was right here on Upper Bond that the inventor installed his ingenious ideas concerning water transport. I’ve studied his system and admired his creativity. The intriguing piping design in this building was one reason I favored it over other locations for my business.”

He eyed her with a prolonged stare, as if to infer she were the other reason. She smothered an inner scoff. What rubbish her heart could conjure given the latitude.

He extended his arm to indicate she should precede him to the next room where his sink was located and she readily complied, although she stood to the side as he kneeled before the pipes and examined the elbow-shaped tube. He coursed his fingers over several lengths that wrapped along the floorboards and connected to a large bend in the corner. Her office upstairs didn’t have such extensive metal piping and she could only surmise what flowed from above settled here down below. That particular sensation certainly proved true in regard to Jasper’s kisses.

“If we have any luck, Miss Shaw, your bracelet will be found in this catch.”

He tapped the elbow shaped tube with his forefinger, then stood before her, his attention riveted. A warm flush of embarrassment and some other unidentifiable emotion swamped her in a heady rush. Without thought a steady stream of babbling poured forth. “I turned the water off immediately once it happened as I do care for the bracelet. It was given to me by someone special.”

His right brow lifted though he didn’t comment.

“A child gifted it to me, at the Foundling Hospital where I volunteer on Wednesday mornings. Dr. Alastar has mentioned the children are much happier since I’ve begun to visit and the whole hospital is brighter because of my efforts. He’s always glad to see me.”

Jasper made some kind of inexplicable sound she couldn’t decipher as grunt of approval or the exact opposite. Some might label his expression aporetic.

While she regained control of her chatter, he opened a cabinet and removed a towel.

“Best I get to work then.”

He rolled up his shirt sleeves and again knelt near the water pipes, and as he diligently unscrewed each portion, she admired the flex of the muscles in his forearms, their corded strength not to be forgotten anytime soon. A light brush of masculine hair darkened his skin, his adept hands busy while she ogled him without shame. She remembered all too well the maddening delight of his hands upon her skin, how the span of his palm across her inner thigh had seemed like heaven and hell combined; a surge of glorious forbidden passion that begged to be explored.

She shifted her stance, squeezing her legs together beneath her skirts and suffering mortification such a sudden, yet enthralling reaction could take control with only a memory.

“There it is, just as I’d hoped.” He chuckled with undeniable confidence and fished out the chain with two fingers, holding it vertically so she could see.

“Oh, how wonderful.” She snapped her attention to where he held the bracelet and then reached to take it from him, but he immediately pulled it away.

“It needs a thorough cleaning first, but all looks intact for its adventurous travels.” He set it to the side atop the towel and picked up a segment of pipe to begin reassembly. “Cummings is a mathematician, watchmaker, and clever fellow who several years ago occupied an office right down this street. His idea for indoor plumbing could revolutionize how we use water in our homes.”

Clearly Jasper wasn’t remembering their
moment
upstairs. He seemed thoroughly intrigued by the pipe system.

“You’re a very knowledgeable man.” She smiled when he glanced over his shoulder from where he fitted another section. His hair caught the light from the lantern, reflecting waves of glossy brown, while the shadow cut his profile into strong handsome angles.

“Some subjects more than others.”