What the Earl Desires (23 page)

“I see you cleaned up Wilkes.”

Colin stretched out his legs and flicked a disinterested glance over the young misses who had a hard time keeping their eyes off him. “He did that all on his own, Your Grace.”

Whack! She smacked him in the shin with her white cane.

“Do not be impertinent, boy.”

He struggled not to rub the stinging pain away.

“You know the mothers will be coming after you. Especially since they printed how much you are worth a year.”

Colin stared at her.
Christ, had they really done that?
He knew he was in real trouble, for although an earl he was worth more than some dukes.

“Well that was nice of them,” he remarked drily.

The duchess pinched the bridge of her nose and stared at him. “How is your mother doing?”

The abrupt change of topic almost threw him. “She is taking each day as it comes.”

“Hard it is, to go through what she did.”

He chose not to respond. For a few moments they sat in silence. While they sat there he mulled over his afternoon. It bothered him that Viscount Chambers had come to the house and brought his family. Like that would have stopped him from doing what he did. As it was, it had taken most of his control not to wrap his hands around Stephen’s fat neck. He had not, opting instead to send for the authorities and having them take the man away. It had not been a pretty scene. Then there was the fact as Stephen was being taken away, Stephen had hollered to him it was far from over. He’d also had the man’s family removed from the house.

“Punch,” she said.

He blinked and focused back upon her. “Pardon, Your Grace?”

“I would like some punch.”

The hint not so subtle and he immediately rose to his feet. “I shall return with some.”

She waved him off with one gloved hand. He strode with ease to the table and retrieved the requested cup of punch. Turning, he found a blonde standing there staring at him. With deliberate slow perusal he allowed his gaze to trail over her body from the fillet in her hair and down her emerald green dress which exposed the tops of her creamy breasts.

Her skin had a flush to it when his eyes sought hers again. Colin almost winked but figured that may very well send her into a swoon, so he barely inclined his head at her before maneuvering around her and back to the duchess.

“Did you see her?” a feminine voice asked. The hushed question slowed him and he paused, hidden by a pillar. “Her skin is so ‘tan’ from living in that heathen country for so long.”

Jo. They were talking about Jo. Protective instincts rose fast and swift within him.

“I…I think she is beautiful,” another said timidly.

“Oh, do shut up, Clara. She has not even been asked to dance all night. They are probably scared she has no manners.”

“They want her married,” a third female said.

“No way.” The venom coating those words made him frown. “We grew up here, she is an outsider. Even if her father is a viscount, we get first pick. Well, except for you, Clara, you are dowdy.” The other girls laughed while one set of feet scurried away.

“Who are you wanting, Sara?”

“The richest of course. Mama said today that was the Earl of Clifton. He is worth four of the Duke of Wimpleton. And younger too. I am a good catch for him.”

Colin rolled his eyes and continued on. He handed the punch over and sat again.

“Did you get lost, Clifton?”

“No, ma’am. I figured I should not scare everyone in my path.”

“Waylaid by the chits who do not want to wait for the Season?”

Duchess Haversham had the right of it. He scanned the room and spied who he looked for. “If you will excuse me,” he said, getting to his feet.

“By all means.”

Eyes upon Jo, he made his way toward her. As he neared his ears identified the girls who’d been speaking badly about Jo. He knew he should wait for an introduction but he’d never been one for propriety. Plus, they’d already met.

Jo spoke to a young girl who was heavier than most near them. Clara, he reasoned. The other group of girls fell silent as he approached. The middle one, he pegged as Sara. Hers was a cold beauty. She vied for his attention, head tilted just so, coy look in place, and her breast more exposed than others, while not quite scandalous, it bordered upon it. Her eyes told him she expected him to make her acquaintance, proper or not. After all, he was a wealthy titled lord.

He ignored her, easily dismissing her with nothing more than a glance. The young one talking to Jo trailed off as he arrived, her eyes going wide.

“Hello, Jo,” he said, well aware it was a personal greeting.

She rotated toward him and her large blue eyes filled with joy, although he could see the sadness behind that.

“Colin,” she said before blushing and dipping a curtsey. “I mean, Lord Clifton.”

The other girls moved closer.

“Nonsense. Family friends need not fall on such formality. It is good to see you again.” In his peripheral vision he saw Sara glance between the two of them and he knew the game had begun for the chit.

Jo flashed him a grateful smile. “And you. This is Miss Clara Field.”

The chubby girl blushed and gave a curtsey as well. “Good to m…meet you, my lord.”

He took her hand and bowed over it. “Clara,” he remarked softly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” His lips brushed the back of her hand. Catching Jo’s eye, he winked. “Care to take a stroll around the room, Jo?” He took her arm and led her off not really giving her a chance to refuse.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Not quite what you expected, is it?”

“I hate it.” Her fingers tightened on the crook of his arm. “Everyone is so mean.”

“Welcome to London, Jo.”

She sighed. “I want to go home.”

He inhaled deeply, well aware of his own wish to leave London behind. On the heavenly perfumed air he caught a whiff of a scent which could make him lose all control.

Spiced roses and vanilla.

“Where is she?” he demanded in a low tone.

“Over here,” Jo stated, leading him to an unpopulated area of the room.

His heart thundered behind his ribs with enough force he wondered would they break. He had absolutely no idea of how it would be to be face to face with her again. There were no words.

Najja sat perched on the edge of her chair and from the expression on her face, she’d seen them coming.

“Look who I found, Najja,” Jo said happily.

She rose and smoothed her hands down the blue cambric of her gown. “Hello, Lord Clifton.” Najja bobbed a curtsey.

His fingers itched to touch her supple skin. Kiss along her limbs and indulge in her responses.

“Miss Najja.”

Jo repositioned herself by Najja but he only had eyes for the enchantress from Africa. The object of
his
desire.

“We need to talk,” he said, nails digging into his palms so he would keep his hands to himself.

She barely blinked. “I hardly think this is the proper place for that,” she replied in a composed tone.

“Then when?” He recognized the shift in her gaze. “No games, Najja or I will make damn sure to compromise you.” His words were edged with steel and he meant each one of them.

“As happy as this makes me to hear,” Jo interjected in a dry tone, “now is not the time. Besides I am ready to leave.”

Colin bit back a curse but knew Jo had the right of it. Now was not the time. Here, not the place. “I will walk you out.”

Jo almost refuted him but said nothing. They headed for the door.

Duchess Haversham who had a few people around her, stepped in his path. “Leaving already, Clifton?”

“No, Your Grace. I am seeing Miss Adrys to her carriage.

The woman lifted her brows. “I was not aware you knew Lord Adrys or his family.”

Glancing over the young women who’d upset Jo, he replied, “I am. We have bordering estates in the country. Miss Adrys and her family are
very
good friends of mine.”

The duchess smiled briefly. “And a good friend to have you would be. Clifton. Miss Adrys.”

Jo curtsied. “Your Grace. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You must come by sometime and tell me about growing up in Africa. I would love to hear of your adventures.” And just like that, Jo had another ally in her corner.

“It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.”

“Good night, your grace,” Colin said encouraging his group to continue on.

They got two steps away. “Clifton.”

He turned. “Your Grace?”

“Lunch tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I will be on time.”

“See that you are.” She cast a glance over a silent Najja then continued on her way.

Colin called for his carriage to be brought around and climbed in after the women. The door was about closed when it ripped back open. He never saw Najja move but she was suddenly between Jo and the person who’d yanked open the door. Trystan’s face popped in.

“Heading out?” he asked.

“Seeing Miss Adrys home.”

“Excellent.” The man jumped in without an invitation and settled beside him. “I was bored in there.”

Colin muttered, “Behave.”

The door closed and the carriage moved out. Inside the warmth and dark made him mull over what he longed to do to Najja. With Najja. For Najja. And truth be told none of those things had the other two in the carriage around.

“How do you like London?” Trystan asked.

“It…it is very different than I thought,” Jo responded.

“Jo, the man talking to you is my good friend Mr. Trystan Wilkes.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Trystan please. Colin tells me you lived in Africa most of your life.”

“Yes.” Jo’s voice took on the warmth it had been lacking. “Have you been?”

“I have. A few times.”

“I miss it, this place…England is so…dreary.”

Wilkes chuckled. “Give it a chance, there are some very beautiful things here.”

“Oh, forgive me, I did not mean to say this country was ugly. I…I…,” she broke off in a language he didn’t know. Trystan did.

Soon she and Trystan were talking and the closer they drew to Jo’s the surlier Colin’s attitude became. He hated not knowing this language. The carriage halted and when the door opened, Najja alighted before he could say anything to her. While Trystan assisted Jo down, Colin rounded on Najja.

“We need to talk, luv.”

The glow from the light hanging from the carriage allowed him to see her eyes. Large, pooling, and…emotionless?

“There is
nothing
to discuss.”

Rage swarmed him. “The hell!” Oblivious to who may be watching, he grabbed her arm and propelled her back into the frame of his carriage. “Do not force my hand on this, luv. How could you not tell me you were a virgin?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.

Finally some emotion. Her eyes widened and filled with uncertainty.

“Did you think I would not know?”

Her expression told him that’s exactly what she’d thought. It was odd to see her so flustered and unsure. However as fast as it appeared the uncertainty vanished like a puff of air.

“Thank you for the ride home, Lord Clifton.” She removed his hand from her arm and slipped around him.

“Wait,” he said, spinning on his heel and reaching for her again. The muscles in her arm flexed beneath his fingers but she didn’t pull away. Nor did she look at him.

He shrugged with the raging emotions inside him. She was so close and yet at the same time, unreachable. Swallowing his muttered oath, he released her arm and allowed her to trail Jo up the front steps. Trystan at his side.

At the door, Jo turned back. “Thank you, Colin. For everything. Good night, Mr. Wilkes.”

The women vanished inside. He remained silent until they had returned to the coach and were on their way back to Haversham.

“I can feel the tension rolling off you, Colin. What is the problem? Are you thinking about Chambers?”

He nodded. “I wish I knew what he meant about it not being over.” Colin shifted against the seat. “My life was so much simpler in the Navy.”

Wilkes laughed. “You will be a great earl, my friend, but that is not it, is it? What else is bothering you?”

He flexed his fingers and stretched out his long legs. “Najja is content to ignore the fact she was a virgin. I told her we had to talk.”

Trystan snorted. “That all?”

“I also told her I would compromise her if she continued to ignore me.”

“You can do no such thing. She is a servant. It would be a dalliance at best. You do not compromise them.”

Najja was so much more than a servant.

The carriage stopped and they climbed out. The Haversham House for the second time that night sat before them, brilliantly lit and full of people. Colin could hear stands of music pouring from the ballroom. He didn’t want to be here. Colin removed his gloves and slapped them against his leg in an agitated action.