Lord Castleford's Fortunate Folly (Fortunes 0f Fate Book 2)

by Tabetha Waite

  “Are you ready, Miss Grouseman?” I certainly am.

  “Erm… yes.”

  He closed his eyes to relish the scent of her, a mixture of lilacs and a fresh spring day, before he whispered in her ear, “Then just relax, and hold on.”

  A small shiver rippled through her as he urged his mount to walk onward.

  ***

  Fanny couldn’t imagine how any lady could possibly relax with a strong, handsome gentleman’s arms around her. And this wasn’t just any gentleman. This was Jonathan.

  She tried to concentrate on her breathing, but when his arm had brushed against her breast, a spark of awareness shot through her, causing her lungs to freeze. She had the feeling that it hadn’t been an accident. Even worse, she wanted it to happen again.

  Was she truly so wanton that the attentions of such a man might reduce her to a puddle of maidenly nerves? She had never felt like this around anyone else of the opposite sex. So why him — and why now? She was only supposed to be distracting him from the activities that would be taking place the night of the ball, not falling in love with him.

  Fanny nearly groaned aloud, for she realized that she was in danger of making the biggest blunder possible when it came to human nature. She was allowing her heart to overrule common sense. She knew that Jonathan would eventually leave Cornwall behind, so why was she doing something so foolish as to allow her emotions to become engaged? It’s not as if he would marry her and take her with him to London. The very idea that such a rake would allow himself to become attached to a mere country girl was preposterous. She had no connections, no dowry — while he was the son of an earl! Even if, by some miracle, he reformed his ways, his father would no doubt disapprove of a union between them.

  She should have left well enough alone and put a firm end to their association yesterday, leaving things as they were. Instead, she’d allowed herself to be persuaded to continue this farce, taking her mother’s advice that she ought to make amends. Even then, she knew that eventually, she would have found her way back to him.

  Because she was just that hopeless.

  “Are you alright?”

  Jonathan’s warm breath fanned near her ear, and Fanny clenched her hands in her lap. It made her want to snuggle closer to that firm body at her back, but she refrained, choosing to sit up straighter instead. “Of course. I’m perfectly fine.”

  He fell silent, but she could almost picture the smug expression on his face at knowing he was the cause of her distress. To distract herself from his nearness, she concentrated on the passing scenery, even though she had traversed this path many times and practically knew every tree and blade of grass along the way.

  When they finally arrived at Killigarth Manor, she waited with bated breath as he dismounted. When he turned to look up at her, she nearly faltered. The sun caught those green eyes, causing them to shine with a brilliance that was unlike anything she’d ever seen. As he captured her by the waist and swung her down from the saddle, his hands lingered, as if loathe to release her.

  She watched his throat work as he swallowed. “Fanny, I—”

  “Ah, there you are, Miss Grouseman.”

  Jonathan stepped back from Fanny as Lady Marwood came upon them. Fanny immediately missed his warmth, although the day was sunny and mild.

  The lady of the house glanced between them as a secret smile touched her lips. “I daresay Conner missed you this morning, Fanny. I was despairing that you might ever return.”

  “I was merely detained,” Fanny replied softly.

  Lady Marwood turned to Lord Castleford and made a shooing motion with her hands. “Be off with you now. I need to speak with Miss Grouseman on a personal matter.”

  Jonathan grinned in that adorably crooked manner. He bowed lightly. “As you wish.” He shot one last heated look at Fanny before he disappeared into the house.

  Once he was gone, Fanny turned her attention to Evelyn, who was eyeing her rather intently. “I fear I know that look all too well.”

  A strange buzzing began in Fanny’s ears, although she forced a smile. “What do you mean?”

  “Come, dear, we are women.” The lady’s face was kind, but knowing. “I think it’s in our nature to know when one of us is in love.”

  Fanny allowed her composure to drop, her bravado dissipating. Her lower lip trembled because she realized that she could deny the truth no longer. “What am I going to do?”

  Evelyn patted her hand. “For now, we just concentrate on the here and now. Elliot told me about the shipment this Saturday, so it’s imperative that we keep our dear guest oblivious to the secrets of Polperro.”

  Fanny nodded in agreement.

  “As for your feelings for Lord Castleford…” Evelyn said slowly. “He has certainly been a dear friend to Elliot, but he’s been known to have a rather unsavory reputation. And while it is said that reformed rakes make the best husbands—” She broke off and looked at Fanny rather expectantly.

  “A leopard seldom changes his spots,” Fanny finished quietly.

  Evelyn’s sympathetic expression caused Fanny’s chest to contract. “I shall see that Mrs. Thomas is sent to the ballroom straightaway.”

  As Lady Marwood returned inside, Fanny was left behind to try and compose herself, and mend a heart that had suddenly cracked.

  ***

  Jonathan could tell by the solemn expression on Fanny’s face when she entered the ballroom that something was amiss. What the hell had Evelyn said to her?

  He intended to find out the truth, but as Mrs. Thomas entered, he was forced to hold his tongue. At least, for the moment.

  “A waltz to begin, if you please,” he said somewhat brusquely.

  The housekeeper’s eyes widened at his tone, but she did as she was bid.

  Jonathan reached out and pulled Fanny to him, much closer than propriety allowed. She gave an indignant gasp. “What are you doing?” she hissed, with a glance at Mrs. Thomas, who was either oblivious, or else pretending to be so as usual.

  He didn’t relinquish his hold. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing.” But her dark eyes didn’t meet his.

  Jonathan’s jaw tensed. “You’re lying.”

  Silence.

  “Tell me.”

  Fanny gave an irritated huff and finally glared at him with a rather fierce expression. “You don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you?” She shook her head. “I don’t know the kind of ladies you’re used to dealing with in London, but I don’t appreciate playing games.”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “It doesn’t matter!”

  “I think it does.”

  “Not for someone like you,” she snapped, and then closed her eyes briefly, as if she’d said too much.

  He ground his teeth together and narrowed his eyes. “Someone like me?” he snorted. “And just when I thought we had made amends for any unjust prejudices toward one another.”

  “Don’t patronize me!” she practically hissed. “But I suppose this only proves my point, that you are incapable of caring for anyone but yourself.”

  Jonathan brought them to a halt as Mrs. Thomas continued to play. “That’s the problem,” he growled. “I do care. About you. Too damned much in fact.”

  ***

  Fanny froze as Lord Castleford spun away from her. She swallowed over the lump clogging her throat. Could what he said actually be true? Or was it all just a brilliant disguise by an experienced rogue?

  She hugged herself and drifted over to the row of windows, confusion warring within her. She stared outside, her vision blurring with unshed tears. She hardly even realized it when the music around them slowly faltered and ceased.

  “Is everything alright, Lord Castleford?” The housekeeper asked hesitantly.

  “Could you give us a few moments?” Jonathan’s voice was raspy.

  Fanny heard the scrape of the bench as Mrs. Thomas took her leave.

  The moment she was gone, the air fi
lled with a charged atmosphere. Like a mounting storm, it built and grew until it surrounded Fanny with a ferocity that caused her to catch her breath. She trembled as Jonathan walked up behind her. She didn’t hear a single footstep, but she could feel his warmth emanating between them, crackling with awareness. She anticipated the moment he might touch her or turn her around and press his lips against hers, but instead, he stood there, allowing the moment to stretch on.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he said softly, “You scare me, Fanny.”

  Finally, the emotion she was trying to hold back came pouring forth. She spun around to face him, a single tear seeping out of her eye to trail down her cheek. “I scare you? Do you have any idea what terrifies me? That I’ll walk out of here one day and never see you again.” She pressed a fist to her breast. “That I will never feel the rest of my life, the way I feel when I’m with you.”

  The tension that pulsed through the room after her pronouncement nearly caused time itself to stop. Jonathan’s green eyes burned with a fiery intensity as he stared at her, while she couldn’t believe she had been so foolish as to say such things. But he’d upset her, pushed her too far, and the words had spilled out.

  She needed to put a wedge between them, so that when he returned to London after the ball in three short days, she might be able to smother her emotions and eventually, return to a life without him.

  Instead, she’d done the exact opposite.

  She might as well have begged him to stay.

  Pathetic.

  She started to go, but Jonathan grabbed her arm before she’d even taken two steps. “You think you can make a pronouncement like that, and then just… walk away?” he said gruffly. “I don’t think so.”

  With that, he pulled her out of the ballroom. He led her across the hall into what appeared to be a modest sitting room. He shut the door and pinned her against the hard oak at her back. Fanny was breathing heavily, but it wasn’t from fear or even angst. She realized that she wanted this moment as much as his glittering eyes said he did. She fought and rallied against it long enough. Regrets and recriminations could come later. But right now, all that mattered was Jonathan.

  She licked her lips in anticipation of another kiss, but while his gaze drifted to her mouth, he didn’t make a move to engage.

  Slowly, those green orbs returned to hers.

  Without breaking contact, he reached out his hand and trailed a finger from her cheek, down her neck and along her collarbone, pausing just above the edge of her neckline. Her nipples pinched beneath the confining material of her stays, and she wanted his hands on her breasts to caress that ache.

  She bit her lip as he moved on, grazing the tops of her breasts and blazing a light trail to the other side of her face. Her legs moved restlessly beneath her skirts, her fists clenched at her sides in frustration. Why hasn’t he kissed me yet? Is he going to kiss me? Oh, God, I want him to kiss me…

  She gasped when his teeth nipped her earlobe. While it wasn’t what she was craving, it was enough to make her shiver. When he dared to reach out and lick that sensitive spot with his tongue, her eyes slid closed.

  “Jonathan…” she whispered.

  She thought she heard him growl, but when he finally cupped her breasts in his palms, she was lost. With his thumb, he teased her through the layers of her dress and undergarments, the sensation going even further to arouse her senses. He licked a fiery path along her collarbone, and her head fell back against the wood grain.

  If he didn’t kiss her soon, she would demand that he did so.

  When one of his hands left her breasts, she nearly moaned at the loss, but when she felt a slight draft on her exposed ankles, she started to claw her way out of her haze.

  What was he…? “Ohhh…”

  How could he possibly dare to touch her — there?

  Fanny knew that she ought to be mortified, or at the very least, embarrassed. She should push him away immediately, but she found that the only thing she could focus on was his wicked finger as he brushed that throbbing center of nerves at her core. He was creating such delightful sensations with a simple friction. She could feel something building, feel it coursing through her veins like liquid fire.

  But it was just out of reach…

  Her hands slid up his chest to clutch his shoulders.

  He responded by tugging down a section of her bodice with his free hand, just enough to expose one of her breasts. The instant his warm mouth clasped onto her nipple, she came apart on a burst of white light. Numerous tremors rippled through her body. It seemed as if the pleasure would never end.

  When it finally did, she felt like crying, like railing at the world for all its unfairness and disappointments. She’d finally found happiness, but she knew it was about to be ripped from her, that it wouldn’t last.

  She took a deep breath, and drew herself up. The way she saw it, there was only one thing to do. Before Lord Castleford had a chance to break her heart completely, she would end it first. End it now. Since she was going to be just another paramour in his long list of lovers, she had to act the part. She had to pretend to be completely unaffected by their interlude, when inside, she was a trembling mess.

  ***

  “I must congratulate you, my lord.”

  Jonathan had been about to lay his heart bare and tell Fanny how he felt about her, when she spoke — and completely confused the hell out of him.

  He blinked. And blinked again. “Pardon?”

  She shrugged in a particularly nonchalant manner. “Oh, don’t be so modest.” She waved a hand as she moved away from the door. Did she actually bat her lashes at him when she passed?

  Jonathan shook his head. He was going mad. That had to be the only rational explanation for this odd turn of events. “I’m sorry… what?”

  Fanny sank onto the couch like any consummate actress. “That was absolutely wonderful. I daresay it’s no surprise you are such a favorite among the ladies of London if that is how you prove your devotion.”

  She actually grinned, and Jonathan’s mind became even more befuddled. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her keenly. “What are you doing?”

  She ignored him to inspect her nails. “Why, whatever do you mean? I’m only saying that our interlude was quite spectacular. You have my deepest compliments.”

  He snorted. “Now who’s the one playing games?”

  “Oh, pish posh,” she waved a hand, and while Jonathan thought he heard her voice crack slightly, she kept her face carefully schooled. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  Silence.

  “Fine.” He turned toward the door but then paused and glanced back at her. “I thought perhaps you might have been different from the rest, that you were made of something…” He paused. “More substantial, perhaps.” He straightened his jacket cuffs. “Rest assured, I shall not waste any more of your time now that I have performed to your satisfaction. Good day, Miss Grouseman. And goodbye.”

  He slammed the door on his departure.

  ***

  The tearful sobs that Fanny had so desperately tried to hold back now flowed freely. The look of pure disdain on Jonathan’s face, along with the cold edge to his voice when he’d left made her wonder if she’d done the right thing, for her heart no longer felt broken.

  It was crushed.

  She reminded herself that nothing she did was of consequence to him, yet he had almost seemed…disappointed in her. Surely, she was mistaken, for how would a known wastrel like Lord Castleford dare to judge anyone’s actions?

  Then again, everyone was so quick to put him in the category of a worthless rake, when she knew it wasn’t completely true. She had seen his good deeds firsthand. Not only had he reopened the mine in St. Austell and claimed it wasn’t purely for personal gain, but what of the work he’d told her about in London? She believed that he was an advocate for those less fortunate, so why had it been so easy for her to think he was a licentious libertine when she h
ad never seen any signs to prove it? If he were a true reprobate, wouldn’t he have been chasing about anything in a skirt during his time in Cornwall?

  In truth, he’d only paid court to one lady — her.

  And there were other signs that she’d ignored too. The way those green eyes seemed to snap to attention when she walked into the room, as if she were the only thing that mattered. The way he smiled that made her feel as though it was reserved wholly for her. And, of course, the way he held her in his arms, as if she was the most precious thing on earth.

  Fanny gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Dear God. What had she done?

  She jumped to her feet and ran to the door, intent on finding Jonathan and begging his forgiveness yet again — when she nearly ran into Lady Marwood on the other side.

  “Oh!” Fanny offered a curtsy, and began to brush past her hostess. “Forgive me, but I must speak with Lord Castleford—”

  The lady’s words stopped her. “That’s what I was coming to tell you. He just left. Rather abruptly, in fact.”

  Fanny spun back around, dread filling her chest. “Where did he go?”

  “He said that he needed to return to London right away.” She sighed. “Oh, I do hope that he might return for the ball.” For the first time, she seemed to finally take note of Fanny’s tear-streaked face. “Oh, dear. Something has happened, hasn’t it?”

  Fanny reached out and put a hand against the wall. She closed her eyes against a sudden wave of dizziness. “Did he say when he would return?” she whispered.

  “I’m afraid not,” the lady returned softly. She walked over and threaded Fanny’s arm between hers. “Come on. You look as though you could use a cup of tea.” Evelyn glanced at her. “On second thought, perhaps some sherry is in order.”

  Chapter Nine

  “You’ve been rather melancholy since your return to London.” Jonathan turned away from the window at the sound of his elder brother’s even tone. “Any particular reason?” His brow lifted as he turned a page of the Times. “I daresay Cornwall would make anyone a bit reticent after being in seclusion for so long. Especially a man of your particular… constitution.”