Well, he’d wanted to know. Now he did, and the knowledge was more than he’d bargained for.
“Are you satisfied now?”
Nowhere near, but aloud he said, “Hmm.”
She nodded, but her mouth turned down at the corners.
“Are you angry that I asked?”
“No, just disappointed.” She focused once more on the window scenery. “I’d thought after working together at your clinic, after what we . . . ” She shook her head. “I would’ve thought you’d know me better.”
If she’d kicked him, she could not have wounded him more. Feeling all of two inches tall, he knew he had to make things right with her. “Jane— ” he began.
But it was too late. The landau had stopped and a footman was already opening the door.
Chapter 9
The duchess and her friends welcomed them. Jane chatted to the other guests, working her way around the room, although all she really wanted to do was go home. On a night where she should be excited to share her findings, she instead felt low-spirited. Perhaps she was coming down with something.
She prevailed upon Catherine for a room where she could gather her thoughts before the presentation. The duchess asked if all was well, and Jane assured her it was, but was deeply grateful for the quiet of a drawing room Catherine showed her to. Jane removed her papers from her reticule, and went through them once more. But as the time approached for her to make her presentation to the small gathering, all she could think about was Richard.
Had he truly believed all the stories? Was that why he’d kissed her in the first place? Had he hoped to find her as immoral and shocking as the gossips wagged? But then he’d been angry with her about not being safer? How was she supposed to reconcile the two? Who was the real Richard Thornton? Did she really want to know?
She shook her head to dismiss her thoughts, and Richard Thornton as well. Let him think what he wants. He’s nothing to me, after all.
Yet even as she told herself as much, a sharp pang of regret knifed through her.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Jane looked up as Catherine slipped in. “Are you ready?”
With a deep breath, Jane straightened her shoulders and found a smile. “As I’ll ever be.”
Catherine smiled encouragingly and led her from the room.
* * * * *
Richard looked about the room for Jane, gritting his teeth on not seeing her. Damn it, where is she? I must speak with her. And yet, that seemed to be the worst thing he could do; he couldn’t seem to talk to her for more than two minutes without saying something asinine. He owed her an apology but Richard was unsure how or when he’d get the chance. Upon their arrival, Jane had done her best to ignore and avoid him, despite his attempts to speak with her. She’d stayed just out of his reach, and so he’d been caught in conversation with Lady Tyndale, who seemed very knowledgeable about the artwork hanging in the duchess’s sitting room. Richard hadn’t paid much attention to what was said, just made the appropriate “Ah,” and “Indeed,” comment every once and again, so he could keep an eye on Jane.
But then Lady Tyndale had gestured to a specific canvas and he’d been forced to look. When he’d turned back, Jane was gone. He searched the room to see if she’d taken a seat somewhere, but no such luck. Alarm surged even as he told himself not to overreact. She had simply retired to gather her thoughts, perhaps. But hard on that came the memory of her admittance of motion sickness. Had the carriage ride made her ill once more? He’d thought their pace slow enough to have resolved that issue, but maybe not. Or was it something more? Had he infuriated her so much that she no longer wished to speak to him?
He was just going to find the duchess and demand to see Jane when a bell sounded and the small group moved to a drawing room where chairs had been set up in an intimate semicircle. He took a seat at the end of one row so he could stretch his leg. The muscle still pained him, but he hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told Jane it was better. Granted, he’d rather have her hands on him than anyone else’s, but the odds of that occurring were grim indeed.
Unless he did something to change the odds, and stack the deck in his favor. But what? What could he do to prove himself to Jane?
Presently, Jane joined them and took up a position at the center of the room. He could see her nerves, and he wanted to praise her courage, while also whisking her away somewhere they could be alone.
She cleared her throat, greeted the group with a shaky smile, and began.
He leaned back in his chair and listened. It was obvious that she enjoyed her topic, and her enthusiasm traveled to the crowd. The longer she spoke, the more animated she became, and the more relaxed she appeared, the more he and everyone in the room found themselves leaning forward, listening intently.
He would have liked to question her about some of the points she made, but even to the untrained, it was obvious that the heart of her argument was downright brilliant. When he considered she never had, nor ever would, have the formal training allowed males, his admiration for her soared. He’d been attracted to her physically since he’d met her all those months ago, an attraction that had only deepened over the past weeks. But listening to her now, he realized her mind fascinated him equally as much.
She drew to a close, and beamed at the audience, and as he watched, a flash of pure desire for her arrowed through him. He’d never thought she could be any more appealing to him than at that moment.
Hard on that realization came another: he had to make things right with Jane, and there was no better time than now.
* * * * *
Jane accepted the hand of congratulations from an older gentleman she’d met earlier in the evening, unable to control her smile of elation. She’d done it! Granted, this was not the lecture hall of a medical college, nor even a surgical theater, but she’d delivered an argument to a group of laymen and they’d seemed not just to understand her points, but also to agree with her.
At least some of them had. Richard had been absolutely inscrutable. What had he thought? Did he find her foolish?
She decided she didn’t want to know.
The crowd thinned, everyone turning to the refreshments set out by the duchess’s staff, and she was left alone.
Sighing with relief, she turned around – and found Richard standing behind her.
“I need to speak with you,” he said. “Alone.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary.”
“Oh, but it is.”
He’d said enough hurtful things today and she’d be a fool to give him the opportunity. She looked around the room, but her friends were nowhere to be seen. But perhaps it was better to get this over with, once and for all. “Very well, I’ll hear what you have to say. Follow me.” She led him to the private room Catherine had earlier arranged for her.
A fire had been lit against the November chill. It remained the main source of light, casting their shadows across the dark wood-paneled room. The thick Oriental carpet muffled their footfalls as they moved inside. Richard went to light a lamp, but she stopped him. “There’s no need. We won’t be that long.”
He hesitated, but then nodded.
She spied a tantalus, and decided a drop of brandy would not go amiss. She poured herself a dram, and lifted a questioning brow to Richard.
“Yes, please.”
She poured a second snifter and offered it to him. To her surprise, he clinked his glass to hers. “To you and your success.”
The liquor burned pleasantly down her throat, but she had to take care not to choke on her surprise. “You think I was a success?”
In the darkened shadows of the room his eyes appeared deep and black. “But of course. I find your insights into the surgical applications nothing short of inspired.”
She flushed, and she suddenly realized that although she’d spoken to a room full of people, his was the only praise she’d valued. “Thank you.”
He smiled, and her heart did a funny flip in her chest. Good God, the m
an was an Adonis.
He brought that smile closer as he leaned in. “You have some brilliant insights.”
“I’ve worked hard to clarify them.” Not since her father had another physician found merit in her work. She gulped a healthy swallow of the fine brandy. Warmth spread through her chest. Or perhaps the heat came from the way Richard was looking at her. Her eyes fell to his mouth. Memory of his kisses made her lips tingle.
“You didn’t learn all of that from your father.”
“No. He had the beginning premise, but I’ve been altering it, adding to it.”
“I knew when I saw those sutures that you were doing something new, but—” He shook his head. “Your father would be proud.”
She smiled. “I hope so. Father wished me to pursue my surgical training, but only after I was safely married. He thought a husband would give me the respectability I needed to keep people from talking. Enough to be safe from society at the very least.”
“So you wed Kilkenny.”
“Yes. Papa was relieved when Albert and I wed, which was good because at the end, he was so—” Painful memories stirred. The brandy suddenly tasted bitter, and she put it aside. “Father was already ill by then, and he deteriorated quickly. His memory was slipping away a little every day, and he knew it, too. The realization tormented him.” Tears pricked her eyes. “He was like a madman, repeating himself over and over, wanting me to write down everything he was so desperate to pass on.”
“So you took his notes and developed them yet more.”
“Yes. He had so many wonderful ideas. I’ve just been continuing his work.”
He shook his head and put down his glass before coming to her. “Jane, I’ve been such a fool.” He cupped her face, his hand warm on her skin. “That’s why you work so hard. To honor him. Even when you don’t get credit for all you do—” He grimaced. “You amaze me. He would’ve celebrated your success tonight. And he would have been pleased beyond thought at seeing the perfect sutures you put into our patient.”
He was right, but the realization made the tears come anyway. Embarrassed, she turned away, only to be caught in Richard’s arms. His strength offered comfort; his earthy scent soothed her. She buried her face against him, while he smoothed a hand down her back.
“Jane,” he murmured. “My Jane.”
When he tilted her face up to him, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him.
Chapter 10
He tasted of salt and brandy and warmth. Jane moved into his arms, and it suddenly felt as if she’d returned home. She opened her mouth to him, but explored just as much as he. The first time they’d been intimate he’d overwhelmed her completely. Now, she was determined to turn the tables.
She shoved at his coat and he obligingly tugged it off. Eagerly, she pulled his shirt free while he tugged at his cravat, cursing when the knot stuck. Jane laughed and slipped the knot loose even as he freed the fastenings to her gown. It fell to the floor in a soft rush of silk.
As if a dam had broken, they were tugging at the rest of their clothing until they could finally come together skin to skin. She gasped at the heat of his chest against her bare breasts, his black chest hair teasing her nipples.
His mouth moved to her throat, teasing the very spot he’d marked before, only to blaze a heated trail to her breasts. He laved one nipple before drawing it into his mouth. The suction sent desire arcing through her like a lightning bolt. A moan escaped her and her knees quivered.
Before she could fall, he eased her down, and she didn’t care if it was the settee, the desk or the floor. All she knew was that if he didn’t fill her she’d die.
Clutching him desperately, she arched beneath him, locking her thighs about his hips.
“Easy, my love,” he whispered at her ear.
“No, not easy.” Her hand found his erection burning against her thigh. She smiled at his gasp.
“You don’t play fair.”
She laughed. “Better you know that now, rather than later.”
The grin he gave her sent a fresh bolt of lust through her. “I’ll consider myself warned.” With that, he surged inside her.
She gasped as he filled her. It felt so good, so right. She grabbed at his shoulders, tugging him closer yet, moving beneath him, urging him on.
Yet every time she tried to speed their pace, he’d deliberately slow them down again. She bit his lip in retribution but he laughed, the deep sound thrumming through their joining. Instinct had her draw up her knees, forcing him deeper.
He muttered a curse and she held on as waves of passion raced through her. Panting wildly, she collapsed against him. He kissed her as he thrust deeply and found his own release.
Their breathing labored, they remained entwined, and it was only then that Jane realized they hadn’t even made it to the settee. She smiled to herself. At least the Oriental rug hadn’t burned her backside. Chuckling at her thoughts, she stroked his back. “What did you want to talk about that you dragged us into this room to begin with?”
He nipped her earlobe. “I wanted to apologize.”
“I do like the way you apologize.” She laughed, and he joined in, and it was then she knew: she’d fallen in love with Sir Richard Thornton. The heavy, delicious male weight of him felt right somehow. She had no regrets whatsoever, but . . . what happened now? She had no idea. She wondered if he did. Judging by the look on his face, replete, relaxed—she took some pride in the knowledge that she was the reason for it—he looked no nearer a conclusion than she.
Gently he disengaged then kissed her before helping her to her feet. “We must return to the others. You, my dear, are the guest of honor. I have no doubt you’ve already been missed.”
She sighed. “I suppose so.” She set about repairing her clothing and repinned her hair. “I hate going back, though. It was lovely here.”
He came to stand behind her, his chin resting on her head. “So it was. But there will be more lovely times.”
She glanced up at him. “Yes?”
“Yes, and one of them will start now if you keep looking at me like that.”
She laughed and with a final tweaking of their clothes, they rejoined the party.
They spent the next hour mingling with the guests, talking and laughing, and yet never far from one another. As soon as they decently could, Richard announced that he must return home.
“Already?” Catherine said, looking put out.
“I have a patient that I must see first thing in the morning,” Richard lied, his hand warm where it rested at the small of Jane’s back. “I need to return Jane home, as well.”
Catherine pouted, but then cast a measuring look at Jane’s coiffure. “Ah! But of course you must go, milachka.” She linked arms with Jane and escorted her to the foyer. “I’d have it no other way. Thornton, do take care of our Jane, yes?”
Richard bowed. “That’s my plan, Your Grace.”
Catherine beamed and bid them good night.
The journey home continued their silence, though Richard sat right beside her, his arm about her. She took strength and comfort in his touch, and snuggled up against him, her head on his shoulder.
When they arrived at her townhouse, he handed her down and saw her to her door. Nerves tightened her stomach, and despite everything they’d just shared, shyness threatened.
He lifted her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her palm. “Good night, Jane.”
“You’re leaving?” she blurted. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that wasn’t it.
The smile he gave her sent her pulse soaring once more, yet he deliberately set her inside her doorway. “For now,” he said, and kissed her so gently she’d barely had a chance to react before he pulled away.
“But . . . ” Words left her, not that he noticed for he’d already turned back down the path to his carriage.
“Tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.
Left with no other choice, she entered the house and closed the
door behind her. Jennings had left a night candle burning. She took it in a shaky hand and made her way upstairs to her chamber.
Her body still thrummed from their lovemaking, but her head swam from the recognition of her love for him. What eclipsed both of those earth-shattering developments was her confusion over his behavior. He was such an irascible, perplexing male! Unfortunately that was also part of his charm.
After dressing for bed, she dismissed her maid. Jane resolved to stop trying to figure Richard out. It didn’t matter anyway. She’d confront him about it tomorrow.
The memory of her discussion with the duchess returned. What do you want, Jane? Catherine had asked. It had taken her some time to figure it out, but after tonight her answer was clear as crystal.
She wanted—no, she loved Richard Thornton.
Stretching luxuriously, Jane slipped between the cool sheets of her bed. It was only a matter of time before he’d be sharing the space with her. For no matter what he said on the morrow, the good doctor would not get away.
* * * * *
Richard arrived at Jane’s townhouse with the ring he’d purchased that morning heavy in his pocket. He couldn’t deny he’d wanted to make love to her since he’d first met her, but the reality of her had been far more sublime than all his fantasies combined. It had taken every ounce of will he possessed not to spend the night with her after her clumsily adorable invitation. But this time, he wanted everything to be perfect. She deserved that much and more.
Looking back, he could see that he’d been doomed from the start. She’d always been lovely, but her sharp mind had engaged him in deeper ways.
At his knock, Jennings opened the door, only to inform him Jane was working in the garden. At this, Richard frowned. The mild morning had sharpened with an afternoon chill. Knowing Jane, she’d gone outside without coat or gloves.
The garden wasn’t large, but was terraced in the Italian style, with rows of greenery mixed with winter roses. He looked around, frowning. “Jane?”
The Lady in the Tower Page 7