by Quinn, Ella
His chuckle was wicked, as he nibbled her lower lip. “If it was up to me, I would remain here all night, yet someone will notice we are missing. Unless you wish to be compromised into marrying me, we must return.”
Was this one of those differences between their countries, or perhaps Frank did not wish to have to marry her. The idea was unsettling and a little hurtful, particularly as he had asked to court her. Then again, he may have done that to see if they would fall in love and have enough in common to have a good marriage. It wasn’t as if she was interested in any other man. They had only known each other for a very short time. Although, she knew some people fell in love at first sight and had splendid marriages.
She stifled a sigh. “No, I would not want that.”
Frank heard what sounded like a small breathy sigh. Was he wrong to take such care of her reputation? No. He did not wish anyone to think they were marrying because they had to. Perhaps he should declare himself to Jenny now. Yet if he did, and she refused him, that would make it difficult for them to continue. He might lose her, and that was not an outcome he could or would accept. If he discovered his father knew of her or his plans for her, Frank would get her shackled to him in short order. But for now they should merely enjoy one another and find other places to kiss. She clearly had never been with a man before and that pleased him more than he’d thought possible. Maybe they could remain in the garden a little longer. Beaumont was to have partnered with her for this set, and he would not mind dancing with his wife instead.
Frank leaned down and kissed Jenny again. When she yielded to him, he wanted to crow. A soft moan escaped her lips as he caressed her back, stopping just before her tempting bottom found its way under his palm. He swept his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth. She tasted of wine and woman. His body tightened as desire, the need to make her his, rushed through his veins. God how he wanted her! Wanted to see her fiery hair spread out against his pillow, to have her naked beneath him. He brushed his thumb against her breast and she shivered, sinking even deeper into their kiss. If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t return her to the ballroom at all.
His breath beat the same tattoo as his heart. If they didn’t stop now—“Sweetheart, we should go back.”
“Yes.” Her voice was breathy as if she had trouble speaking. “You are probably right.”
He kept his arm around Jenny’s waist, holding her close for a few moments longer, before placing her hand on his arm. “Lest you think otherwise, I could easily have remained until the ball ended.”
Her eyes widened as if in surprise, but her lips, still swollen from his kisses, curved up. “I’m glad you told me.”
“You should know I would not have minded being caught with you. However, you would be subjected to unwanted gossip.” Nor did he want others to gossip about her more than they were already doing. She was his to protect. His to love.
“And I have had more than enough of that.”
“The next set is our second waltz, after which we go down to supper.” He paused at the door, not wanting to rejoin the ball. “If you were staying at my brother’s, I would suggest we depart after eating.”
Jenny searched his face, and he wondered what she found there. “I don’t think we’ll be allowed another stroll in the gardens. Perhaps we could just amble around the room and talk.”
If only he could kiss her one last time, but eyes were already turning their way. “I would enjoy that.”
What she did not seem to understand was that by allowing him to keep her by his side, they were already making their preference for each other clear. Then again, she may know and not care, or things could be different in America. If only he knew what she was thinking.
Their friends, standing near the windows, formed a circle around them. Jenny’s aunt looked ready to ring a peal over their heads.
Meg tucked her arm in Jenny’s, a show of support Frank silently applauded. “I had to stop your aunt from going after you.”
“I had no idea we’d been gone so long.”
“No, I dare say you didn’t.” She grinned. “Yet unless you are ready to announce your immediate betrothal, a half hour is enough to cause talk.”
“For a mere thirty minutes?” At first, Jenny appeared surprised, then her countenance took on a militant cast. “I’ve never heard the like, and I—”
“It’s my fault.” Frank cut in before she could continue. She would not take the blame for their being together. “I know the customs here. Jenny does not.”
“Nevertheless,” Miss Brodhead said in a frustrated whisper, “it must not happen again. There are some people”—she cut her eyes briefly at Lady Heathcote who was staring at them—“who are waiting for you to make a misstep.”
The overture to the next set began, and he took Jenny away from his sister-in-law. “Let’s forget this and enjoy the dance.”
Or, in his case, enjoy being able to hold her once more.
“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully. “That would be perfect.”
She had always fitted him whenever they stood up together. But since they’d kissed, and he knew what she felt like when her body touched his, he couldn’t stop himself from holding her a bit closer. He glanced around watching for anyone who might be paying them too much attention, but saw nothing and relaxed. Miss Brodhead had likely overreacted, and Meg was simply attempting to be diplomatic.
“A penny for your thoughts.” He looked down, and Jenny grinned.
“I was just thinking how well we fit together . . . when we dance.”
A tinkling of light laughter bubbled from her. “Is that what you call it?”
For the first time in years his neck grew warm, and he knew he was flushed.
“They do say Americans are forward,” a young lady near them murmured just loud enough for him to hear.
Jenny must have heard the girl as well. She stiffened, and her lips were drawn into a thin line. “She insulted me.”
“I would not make too much of it. She is probably jealous.” He smiled. “Did you see the coxcomb she’s with?”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Jenny relaxed again. “If he is anything like Lord Pompous, she’s welcome to him.”
This time it was Frank who laughed too loudly, causing soft comments. “I fear we are neither of us as well behaved as we should be.”
Her eyes twinkled with mirth, and he was glad she was happy again. Would that he could save her from all her troubles, but she was a strong woman and would not appreciate being smothered by him or any man.
At the end of the set, as he was escorting her to supper, Damon put his hand on Frank’s arm. “Meg is tired. She suggested that we all adjourn to the house. Cook can find something for us to eat.”
Jenny cast a concerned look where Meg sat on a chair. “Yes, of course we will come.”
A few minutes later they had bid adieu to their hostess and were in the town coach. Sarah and Warwick had decided to remain at the ball.
Jenny laid her hand on Meg’s knee. “You may take me back to the hotel if you’d like.”
“Oh, no. I shall feel much better once I’m home.” She paused, but it was too dark for Frank to see her expression. “The noise and heat were bothering me. Nothing more. I am feeling better already.”
“I abhor disagreeing with you, my love,” Damon said. “But Jenny brings up a possible solution. If there is a prospect of a cold collation at the Pulteney, then we would not have to worry over someone seeing Frank escorting her to the hotel in a closed coach.”
“I am quite sure the kitchens are open at all hours,” Jenny said.
“It is decided then. I have always wondered if the food was as good as it is reputed to be.”
Damon and Meg had neatly danced around the subject, but Frank had the distinct feeling that he and Jenny had been the subject of talk. Well, hell! They would simply have to be more circumspect when in public. He would not allow her to be pushed into marriage. That was a choice she would be free to make. Eve
n if he did not like her decision.
Suddenly, what Jenny had said earlier came crashing back to him. Perdition! They did not have much time at all. One of her father’s ships would be here soon ready to take her back to New York, and Frank had every intention of being on that ship with her when she left. Five days more. That would have to be enough. On the sixth day, he would ask her to marry him, and hoped the ship didn’t arrive before then.
Chapter 8
Four days after the ill-fated ball, Jenny left the book store, stepping onto the sidewalk. Brian, her footman, was behind her carrying the rest of the books she had purchased in preparation for her journey home. She turned right toward Geoff’s town coach that had been loaned to her for the excursion. She really had had no idea she and Frank could have caused such a stir by having fun with each other. These people obviously did not have enough to keep them busy.
On the other hand, except for Pomfry attempting to accost her at the hotel, the other gentlemen Geoff’s sister had introduced her to had stopped bothering her. Unfortunately, she and Frank had not been alone since. One would think that he could have arranged something.
Does he or doesn’t he? Jenny sighed softly so that no one would hear her. Perhaps it should be does she or doesn’t she? Lord Frank was everything she had been looking for in a husband. Funny, handsome, nice, and he kissed extremely well. And danced well. She mustn’t forget that. And she was afraid she was falling in love with him. Actually, if she was honest, which she did not truly wish to be at the moment, she had already fallen. Hard.
If only he wasn’t English. Papa would not be at all happy about that. Then again, he did trust her judgment. If not, he would never have agreed to her proposals regarding the settlement agreement she brought with her. Papa was a dear, and she loved him with all her heart, but he could be a bit old fashioned when it came to women and property. He had not agreed that she could keep everything that was hers, until she had pointed out that it would keep fortune hunters away. Now that that was no longer a problem, she had to make up her mind.
The question was whether Frank loved her. He was attentive and seemed to have a great deal of fun in her company, but others had pretended to as well . . . until she had mentioned living in New York. Something he appeared to have no concern about. Nor had another man kissed her. God, how he’d kissed her. And he was courting her. If only he would say the three little words she wanted to hear, everything would be settled.
Then again, despite feeling as if she had known him all her life, it had been less than a week since they’d met. Her aunt would be marrying in another two days. He was courting her, she reminded herself again. If Frank did not declare himself by the time Sarah wed, Jenny could not move to his brother’s house. In that case, she would simply propose to him. She nodded to herself, happy to have made the decision.
Her new maid stood in front of the millinery shop and signaled by lifting her chin. She probably would have waved if her hands had not been full. Suddenly, a boy bumped into her and her books began to fall. Before she could lunge to save them, a large, meaty hand grabbed her arm. Jenny screamed, the man’s hand covered her mouth and she bit down, tasting blood.
“You’ll pay for that, bitch!”
Digging her feet into the cobblestones, she was able to slow down him down. Where was he taking her? The next thing she knew, he shoved her in to a coach. She took a breath, intending to scream again, but the boot she landed on caught her stomach, making it difficult to breath, much less shout.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders, lifting her, and setting her on the seat opposite the boots.
“Take shallow breaths and you’ll be fine in a minute,” a cultured, but unknown voice said. “I should have told the brute not to treat you roughly.”
The carriage had started, and Jenny couldn’t do anything until she could breathe again, so she did as instructed, and in a few moments was able to suck a deep breath of air. Once she felt in possession of herself, or as much as possible considering her heart was still clanging inside her chest, she faced her captor. He was tall with brown hair and eyes. He had a straight, almost military bearing. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I should have thought that was clear by now. I plan to marry you.”
Insane! The man is insane! “I don’t even know you.”
“That will be remedied soon enough.” He glanced out the window as if having explained everything he thought she should know, that was the end of the discussion.
She tamped down her rising fear. “What is your name, and where are you taking me?”
He looked at her, a bored expression on his face. “You do ask a great many questions.”
Insufferable Englishman. She tried to copy the haughty tone Frank used at times, but couldn’t keep the rage infusing her body from her voice. “It is my life. I have a right to know.”
The man sighed. “I suppose it won’t hurt. There is nothing you can do about it in any event. You are already irreparably compromised by being in the coach with me, not to mention the abduction took place on Bond Street. We shall travel to a tavern at the edge of Town, where I shall arrange a separate room for you.” He gave a sardonic grin. “Naturally, the door will be locked. Don’t think to try to talk the innkeeper around. I have concocted a plausible story for him. He will not assist you.”
“Naturally.” Jenny wanted to spit at his smug expression. No matter what happened, or what she had to do, he would not win. “Please continue.”
“I shall inform your aunt, that I intend to wed you. She will be forced to agree. After all, Warwick will not want a scandal tainting his wife.” He raised a brow. “Have you any more questions?”
Too many, but first . . . “Who are you, and why me? I am absolutely positive we have never met.”
“I am Major Reginald Upton, late of His Majesty’s House Guards.” He may not have been in one of the units that had invaded her country, but she would never allow an English soldier to touch her, much less marry him. “You are correct,” he continued in the same bored tone. “We have not been introduced. As to the reason you were chosen, it appears you have become much too friendly with a certain duke’s son, and his grace wants you out of the way.”
Frank’s father. She . . . they . . . had expected him to do something, but not this soon. There was, however, one thing neither the duke nor the major had considered. She didn’t care about her reputation in the ton, and neither Sarah nor Geoff could force her to marry this blackguard. If only she had made an arrangement to meet Frank this morning, he could save her. But she hadn’t. Well, she simply needed to find a way to get back to the Mayfair herself.
Fortunately, unlike the usual unmarried English lady, she had a fair amount of money with her and wouldn’t hesitate to bribe her way out of the inn. If only she had brought her pistol. Yet who took a weapon to Bond Street?
The major had returned to his perusal of passing scenery. Obviously, he wasn’t concerned about her causing him any trouble. Therefore, she surmised, as long as she appeared to go along with his plan or act as if she had no choices, she was in no immediate danger. She looked out the other window, noting landmarks that would assist her on her way back to Town.
“What the devil just happened?” Frank bellowed, not caring who heard him. Jenny’s safety was more important than street gawkers.
“Miss, she was taken.” Jenny’s maid wrung her hands. Books lay on the pavement and in the street.
“Yes, but who took her?”
“I don’t know, my lord. I got a quick look, but I never seen him before.”
A young man came running up carrying several more tomes. “What can I do to help?”
Ah, the footman Jenny had brought from America. “Help her”—he pointed at the maid and noticed a group of people had begun form—“back to the hotel. Tell Miss Brodhead what has occurred, and ask her to notify my brother. I am going after your mistress.”
Thank God he stopped at
the Pulteney to see Jenny and been told she was shopping. Otherwise, who knew how long it would have taken to discover she was missing.
Frank gave the horses their office and set out after the coach. Keeping it in sight but not attempting to stop the conveyance. Whoever had her would not want her harmed. At least not until they had her tied right and tight. He’d dawdled long enough. As soon as he could manage it, they were getting married. He only hoped she loved him as much as he loved her.
About forty minutes later, the coach turned off into the yard of a busy inn, and Frank drove in right behind it, throwing the ribbons to an ostler, as he jumped down. “Walk them. I won’t be long.”
A tall, dark haired main climbed down from the coach, then turned, but Jenny had already hopped down. Ignoring the offer of his arm, she glared up at the cur. Thank God she was no missish lady.
Frank strode up to her, took possession of her arm, and addressed the bounder who abducted her in a loud voice. “Thank you very much for accompanying my betrothed this far. I shall take it from here.”
For a moment the cur seemed confused, then his brows snapped together. “Betrothed?”
Smiling brightly, Jenny leaned into Frank. “Had you given me an opportunity, I would have told you he was meeting us here.” She gazed up at him, fluttering her lashes. “I cannot wait to become Lady Quimby.”
Frank almost choked. Clever of her to have remembered the story he’d told her about his family’s cats. “Indeed, my love. It will not be long now.”
“Quimby?” the other man asked incredulously, as his eyes narrowed.
If looks could kill, the blackguard would be dead. Although Jenny’s expression was calm, her eyes shot daggers. “You see, there was no need for your employer to worry.”