The Virgin Widow

by Jen YatesNZ

  ‘Ha! I see how eet ees,’ she pronounced, and disappeared through the curtains into a back room. When she returned she was followed by a young seamstress holding aloft an exquisite ball-gown fashioned from fine ribboned silk in a deep, glowing emerald green and trimmed with wide gold lace flounces caught up with small bunches of pink silk roses.

  ‘Alors,’ the incorrigible little woman said, as she watched Jane fall helplessly in love. ‘Not ze riding ‘abit but ze ball-gown. You will slay ’ees Lordship in zees, Lady Rotherby.’

  ‘That was not exactly the result I was aiming for,’ Jane murmured when she managed to catch her breath. Eyeing the gown with a deep longing shimmering through her, she began to see—herself in this gown, low across the tops of her breasts, shoulders bare—and Hades—

  ‘But no—,’ she began.

  ‘Oh pooh, m’Lady! Zees ees exactly ze effect you want. Put ze arrogant—puppy, mmm, very large puppy—in ’ees place! À vos pieds!’

  Saying no more, the crafty modiste stepped aside, allowing Jane to finger the material, examine the detail—and visualize the delicious scenario the wicked woman had drawn for her.

  Hell-Bent Hades Delacourte at her feet.

  Slowly Jane raised her lashes to meet the modiste’s dancing gaze.

  ‘Could it possibly be made to fit?’

  ***

  When the travelers returned, she was in the family parlor idly flicking through the latest edition of Belle Assemblée looking for styles Madame Callie might make up for her.

  Holly was tired and inclined to scold Jane for declining to join them.

  ‘How was Aunt Elspeth?’ she inquired, a slight snip in her voice as if she didn’t believe Jane had visited the woman at all.

  ‘Deaf, crotchety and forgetful,’ Jane said, managing to imbue her voice with a hint of ruefulness. ‘She was James’s favorite aunt. She did perk up when we talked of him, then got all maudlin when I reminded her he’d passed away two years ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Jane!’ Holly cried, reverting to her usual gentle self. ‘We had a lovely day and dear lord, I’m tired! I think I’ll go up for a nap.’

  Relieved of any need to confess she’d only stayed at Aunt Elspeth’s a little above fifteen minutes, Jane turned to smile at Selena.

  ‘Richmond was ever so beautiful, Lady R!’ Selena bubbled. ‘And thank you, Uncle Bax, for the best day of my life!—Wait, Aunt Holly. I’ll come up with you. I need to change and freshen up.’

  Jane smiled indulgently as Selena danced after Holly, taking her arm to assist her up the stairs. As she turned back to her magazine a deep voice reminded her there was a third member to the travelling party not yet dismissed.

  ‘Which leaves you and me alone again, Lady Rotherby.’

  As formal as his address was, there was nothing formal in the tone of his voice. Leaning on the mantel he looked down, giving her his best wicked-Bax smile.

  Pleased with the success of her plan to avoid him she allowed herself a slightly smug little smile in response, then returned to perusing Belle Assemblée—although there could have been pigs in dancing costumes prancing across the page for all she saw anything printed there. Nevertheless, she hoped her act was convincing.

  ‘Holly was disappointed you chose not to come driving, Angular Jane.’ Her name dripped off his tongue like rich dark chocolate. ‘She was inclined to blame me. I’d be upset—except I take your defection as a positive. You want me as much as I want you or it wouldn’t have worried you to spend the day in my company, not to mention with my sister and niece present! An innocuous enough outing surely?’

  Tossing her magazine aside, all semblance of satisfaction with her day flown, Jane surged to her feet.

  ‘Does nothing daunt you?’ she demanded.

  ‘Not much.’

  Grey eyes shone silvery with laughter. There was no talking to the man! Yet she couldn’t drag her gaze from his. Not even when he moved from the mantel towards her with the obvious intent of taking her in his arms.

  Where was her sense of self-preservation? With a soft, hungry moan his mouth closed over hers and Jane could no longer remember what she should be preserving herself from.

  Because Hades Delacourte’s mouth on hers seemed as necessary as her next inhale of air. His arms enclosed her like the blessed walls of home, the muscular shoulders beneath her hands an addiction she couldn’t resist.

  Remembering why she was angry with him was difficult. But she was! He had no right setting up as her fashion guide or telling her who was allowed to call on her. Or going out late at night to visit other women! His arms tightened about her waist as she began to pull back. His tongue teased along her lips and helplessly she opened for him, her body softening again, molding into the hard lines of his.

  When a soft deep groan hummed against her lips Jane’s bones almost melted, leaving her hanging in his arms, responding achingly to the knowledge she affected him as deeply as he did her. So deeply they were almost compromised.

  ‘Thank you Denby. Where is everybody?’

  ‘Lady Holly and Miss Selena have retired upstairs, my Lord, and Lord Baxendene and Lady Rotherby are in the family parlor.’

  By the time Lord Brisco entered, Jane had dropped back into the chair and Lord Baxendene was leaning nonchalantly against the mantel. But she could do nothing to conceal the hectic color in her cheeks no doubt glowing right down her neck!

  And that great oaf stood there with the satisfied smirk of a bear with a pot of honey.

  Lord Brisco’s knowing gaze darted between them, but he said nothing more than, ‘Afternoon, Bax. Jane. You’re just back from Richmond, I collect?’

  ‘I am,’ Bax concurred. ‘Jane—apparently—had other fish to fry.’

  ‘Wise woman,’ Brisco commented, eyes twinkling merrily.

  ‘I paid a visit to James’s elderly aunt,’ she murmured stiffly.

  Then before Brisco could comment, Bax pushed away from the mantel and declared it time he was off. Reaching for Jane’s hand he raised it slowly to his lips while his eyes remained locked on hers. Helpless to break the connection, even with Lord Brisco looking on, Jane felt the heat surge into her skin again.

  She had to stop letting the man affect her this way.

  ‘See you anon, brother-in-law,’ he murmured, shot Jane a last satisfied grin and sauntered from the room.

  ***

  Restless and wide-eyed later that night, Jane sat by her window staring down into the gardens far below. A soft drizzle had thickened to a desultory rain covering the street in a watery gloom.

  Not that it mattered. The only picture in her mind was Bax’s sculpted mouth, quirked in a wicked smile and his smoky eyes shimmering with mischief. She doubted there was a man alive more tempting than the Great Bax.

  There was no point denying she wanted to know what all the sexual fuss was about and she could think of no one she’d rather have show her than Hell-bent Hades Delacourte! But a stronger part of her—she devoutly hoped—wasn’t about to expose the shameful fact that at thirty, and a widow to boot, she was still a virgin.

  Having finally talked herself into an easier frame of mind she climbed back into bed and slept until dawn.

  Just before luncheon next morning the three ladies walked around to Curzon Street to visit with Lady Baxendene, who felt well enough to leave her bed and sit with them in her boudoir.

  They talked of Selena’s ball, which was being held in the larger reception rooms of Baxendene House. The housekeeper, Mrs. Lark, and Garnet the butler were called in to report on the arrangements.

  Lady Baxendene was sparing no expense in launching her eldest granddaughter and was inclined to gloat a little over her son’s promise to be present.

  ‘He has to host it since it’s in his house,’ Holly said. ‘Besides, I believe Pountney charged him with standing in loco parentis.’

  Lady Baxendene looked struck then smiled with delight.

  ‘It’ll be the greatest crush of the season! His pres
ence will guarantee the attendance of every Mama with a daughter to puff off—and therefore, every wife-hunting gentleman in town!’

  Over a light luncheon she told them she was determined to be present for at least a short while during the night, which made Holly smile and declare, ‘You and I, Mama, will have a couple of the most comfortable chairs in the house set up in a corner and there we’ll hold court!’

  Jane felt her heart swell at the new bond that seemed to be forming between the two.

  Holly seemed a little wan at dinner and Lord Brisco was frowningly solicitous.

  Concerned, Jane took the opportunity when they left Brisco to his port and Selena was quietly playing at the piano, to quiz her friend.

  ‘Have you been doing too much, Holls? You’re looking a bit—drawn.’

  ‘I’m fine!’ Holly protested.

  Jane considered her, head bent low over the embroidery on a baby’s jacket and carefully avoiding Jane’s gaze.

  ‘Have you told Basil yet?’

  There was no need to elaborate. They both knew what Holly needed to tell her husband.

  Sighing, she dropped the stitching in her lap.

  ‘No, and it’s killing me! I don’t know why I’m afraid to tell him. I know it won’t make any difference—but somehow—I feel different. And I don’t know what to think about that!’

  ‘I’m sure Basil would help if you’d just tell him. In fact, I think he might be a little hurt it’s taken you so long.’

  ‘I know. The longer I leave it, the worse it gets,’ Holly sighed. ‘I’ll tell him tonight.’

  The room fell quiet. Selena leapt from the piano stool and came across to kiss her aunt’s cheek.

  ‘I think I shall go up and write to Mama,’ she said. ‘She’ll want to hear everything I’ve been doing and—I’m missing her!’

  Reaching up, Holly pulled her down for a hug.

  ‘Of course you’re missing her,’ she said. ‘And she’ll be missing you terribly and longing to hear from you. Go on then. Write her a good long epistle. You’ve much to relate!’

  Selena’s smile returned. She bid Jane goodnight, and Lord Brisco who’d just entered the parlor.

  ‘Going up already?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, Uncle Basil. I’m going to write home.’

  ‘Oh—good girl,’ he approved.

  ‘I think I’d like to go up too,’ Holly said to her husband. ‘Will you come with me?’

  He grinned down at her.

  ‘Sounds like an invitation I can’t refuse! But that leaves Jane alone.’

  ‘I shall stay here a while and work on my sketches for Sammy’s book. I’ll let Denby know when I’m finished down here,’ she said, waving them off.

  Scarcely half an hour later Jane was interrupted by Denby come to inform her Lord Baxendene had called to see Lady Brisco, but since she’d already gone upstairs he’d requested to speak to her instead.

  She’d been thinking she’d got through the day without having to deal with what he made her feel. The thought of him—let alone the sight—was enough to heat her blood, steal her breath and tangle her mind. He made her want things, vague unknowable things, she’d never wanted before, never known she’d missed. But she couldn’t turn him away in case Lady Baxendene needed her.—Honestly?—She couldn’t turn him away. Which made her annoyed with him—and herself.

  But she’d steeled herself to withstand his charm to no purpose. Eyes serious, he leant over and kissed her cheek in an almost brotherly fashion. Then he dropped on a nearby chair to sit with his elbows on his knees, hands hanging in an oddly helpless fashion between them.

  ‘Is Lady Baxendene poorly again?’

  ‘Mama is fine—thanks to you.’

  ‘Then what’s wrong?’ she persisted when he continued to examine his hands as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

  ‘I’m worried about Holly.’ He looked up at her with eyes the somber grey of mist on the hills. ‘She’s too accepting, too—apparently—happy with what she’s learned about herself. The reality will hit soon. I know her well. And she hasn’t told Brisco yet! I thought maybe I could be with her when she told him—but they’ve gone up already.’

  Jane relaxed a little.

  ‘Holly promised she’d tell Brisco tonight.’

  ‘Thank goodness. It won’t matter to him. He loves her—besotted idiot!’

  Bax stretched out his long legs and leant back in the chair with his eyes shut.

  Jane smiled. He was as besotted when it came to his little sister. She added a stroke to the sketch of Sammy on Dobbin she’d begun earlier.

  A deep sigh emanated from the recumbent man and his eyes opened, regarding Jane with a faraway look.

  ‘A pity Mama is a Beresford with that damned streak of darkness we’ve all seemed to inherit. A different woman might have managed better for Holly. It’s patently obvious now she isn’t and never could’ve been a Beresford. Too—blithe of spirit—and forgiving. I should’ve seen that! It was what I could never understand. What’s not to love about Holly?’

  ‘You have to remember,’ Jane murmured, ‘your mother loved your father. She’d have felt terribly betrayed. It’s perfectly natural she couldn’t love a child he’d sired on another woman. She’s a living reminder of his infidelity—and his death. In your Mama’s situation could you have loved Holly?’

  ‘I’ve no idea! I’ve never been in love. Won’t happen. I’m not the loving—or marrying—kind. So it’s not something I can begin to understand. But—I can understand Mama to a degree. Just not sure I can forgive her.’

  ‘What for?’ Jane snapped. ‘Loving your father too much? Not being strong enough to refuse the promise he forced from her, the lie he forced her to live? For giving Holly everything but her love? You have to admit on the surface of it, Holly was raised with every luxury and consideration. The same as the rest of you. She says she always suspected something. Our revelation didn’t really surprise her. Her deepest regret is she never really knew her father, and her greatest worry now—after telling Brisco—is whether she wants to meet her real mother or not.’

  Bax sat up again, elbows on his knees and head propped on his hands. Jane let the sketchpad lie idle on her lap and wondered if she was the only person he’d ever allowed to see this side of him.

  She was in trouble. The rakish, devilish Hell-bent Hades was attractive, irresistible, in the power he could wield over her physical senses. But this serious, reflective, thinking Bax—that man would suck her down and connect at a level of emotional intensity totally devastating. This real person was a man who could steal her soul.

  Panic was setting in when he looked up at her with a familiar wicked gleam and said, ‘And here we are alone by the fire, Angular Jane! Come here and kiss my agonizing no-heart better!’

  The illusion of seriousness was gone in a flash, making her doubt she’d seen it. The rake was alive and well and perhaps her own heart would stay safe after all.

  ‘I was just going up,’ she said severely, reaching for the bell to summon the butler. ‘Denby will see you out.’

  Giving her a long, hot look, he rose and leant over her, holding her gaze for a moment longer. Then with a wicked little smile turning his eyes silvery he pressed a kiss to the end of her nose.

  ‘Goodnight, Angular Jane.’

  As the door closed behind him Jane stared unseeingly at the sketchpad on her lap. The man would be a terrible temptation if he ever did decide to settle down, take a wife.

  And you are perfectly content with your life at Rotherby, Angela Jane Bracewell! Such dreams are totally foolish given how old you are. Calling herself Angela Jane Bracewell always had the salutary effect of reaffirming who she really was. The fairytale life James had raised her up to was a dream she could not expect to happen more than once in her lifetime.

  Best she headed upstairs and got some sleep. Tomorrow she and Selena would move into rooms in Baxendene House until the day after the ball, which was now only two days away. There wou
ld be much to do helping with the final preparations and ensuring their gowns and accessories were to hand.

  Only two days away? For a startled moment Jane realized even she was excited. Foolish woman, she chided herself. Unbidden came the thought, James would have exhorted her to enjoy herself.

  ***

  Lady Baxendene had insisted on coming downstairs for an hour during the afternoon to be certain everything was arranged as she’d instructed. The reception rooms were swathed in daffodil yellow silk and cream and gold lace. Gilded urns filled with huge arrangements of cream and yellow lilies were placed in niches and on plinths about the rooms.

  Every chandelier had been lowered and washed so it dazzled; every drape taken down and thoroughly brushed. Tables dressed in cream and gold linen and gold plated candelabra had been set up in the supper room with tall, creamy beeswax candles waiting to be lit.

  Holly had confided to Jane that Brisco had chided her mercilessly for daring to think her parentage made any difference to him and declared herself so much happier and more energetic as a result. Nevertheless, Jane had been firm with her and Lady Baxendene, sending them off to rest early in the afternoon so they were both able to attend the dinner that evening. Hades had been a model of rectitude, seeming to be everywhere his height and strength was most needed.

  Jane couldn’t help but be impressed—yet again. But she made sure to be in his vicinity as little as possible. Stripped to his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and minus his neck cloth, he was too much of a feast for her virgin eyes!

  ***

  Besides the Briscos, other guests to dinner were Holly’s friends, the Burgates, Lady Burgate’s sister, Lady Marianne Rosedale, and Lord Burgate’s two sons by a previous marriage. Lord Peregrine, the elder, was an aloof, superior young man, but Lord Henry, fair-haired and handsome with dimples and laughing blue eyes obviously held some attraction for Selena.

  Dressed in pale icy green, with the same color trimming of lace and bows, and a single emerald pendant at her throat, she was enchanting. Jane felt staid in an old favorite, a moss-green muslin. Corded and tasseled in gold braiding, it showed a hint of cleavage and with it she wore a set of creamy gold pearl jewelery James had given her.