by Maya Banks
Never would she have imagined that they would have spent the evening in conversation, and yet she craved more. She couldn’t wait to see him again, and she was already forming more questions to ask him. Now, not only did her body crave him, but her mind did as well.
Their intimate conversation made her less nervous around him, much more at ease. But as much as she enjoyed their dialogue, she wanted more of the sensational bliss she’d experienced their first night together.
Now that they had forged more of an emotional bond, she thought that their physical union would be truly extraordinary. No longer was she hesitant about consummating their affair. Indeed, she looked forward to it. Wanted it. Needed it like she’d never needed anything in her life.
It would be so easy to become caught up in their newly formed relationship. But it wouldn’t last long. She couldn’t allow herself to get lost in her desire for Gray. The repercussions would be devastating.
An uneasy sensation swept over her as she looked ahead to her parents return and the subsequent end of her affair.
###
Yawning broadly, Jenna descended the stairs and went into the drawing room to await Stuart’s arrival. Taking care not to wrinkle the pale green silk gown, she settled onto the settee, sitting forward so her hair wouldn’t be mussed. She fingered the locket she’d made a point to wear and settled it between her breasts.
She glanced at the doorway as Sebastian and Quinn strode in. Sebastian stopped to pour himself a drink before continuing over to sit beside Jenna.
“How are you faring today?”
She smiled at him. “I am well. A little too much excitement for one evening, but no one was harmed.”
His cobalt eyes stared penetratingly at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes of course. Though I daresay I have no desire to return to the opera anytime soon.” She patted his leg in a reassuring gesture and cast a glance over at Quinn. “I don’t suppose you’d like to attend Lady Westlake’s musicale with Stuart and I this evening.”
His head shot up. “Egads no!”
She chuckled at the panicked look on his face. “I was only jesting. Perhaps I could cajole Sebastian into attending in your stead.”
“Not bloody likely,” Sebastian muttered, leaning back against the settee. “I’ve crossed paths with Lady Lucretia in the past and have no desire to do so again.”
Jenna quirked an eyebrow. “When was this?”
He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “I was unfortunate enough to be cornered by Lady Lucretia last season. She damn near talked my ears off.”
“And you didn’t succumb to her considerable charms?” Quinn asked in mock disbelief. “I am shocked that you didn’t immediately set out for Gretna Green.”
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, brother dear. But you are not as amusing as you’d like to believe,” Sebastian said dryly.
“On the contrary, Jenna finds me quite amusing, don’t you Jenna?”
She laughed. “Indeed, very much so.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Well you may give Lady Lucretia my regards as I have no intention of walking into the lion’s den.”
“Don’t give her anything from me,” Quinn quickly spoke up. “I’d hate to give her the wrong impression.”
“On second thought,” Sebastian said with a grin.
“Mr. Eglin,” Thomas announced from the doorway.
They all turned as Stuart swept into the room. Jenna’s jaw dropped as she took in his attire. It was as if King Henry VIII had entered the drawing room.
He was wearing an ornately decorated tunic, a sash cinching the waist. A heavy, ruby jacket with a white, fur-lined lapel hung loosely over his shoulders, falling evenly to his knees. His legs were encased in white stockings, and the edge of his breeches, which just covered his kneecaps, peeked from underneath the hem of the tunic.
A large, jewel encrusted necklace lay over his shoulders like a mantle. Underneath, a heavy gold medallion, much too large for his bearing, hung down his chest.
Dear heavens, it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he’d beheaded anyone of late.
Her brothers were equally stunned. Sebastian cleared his throat repeatedly as if summoning just the right words to say. Quinn’s lips twitched suspiciously as he worked to keep a straight face.
Finally Jenna drew in a deep breath and made her way over to Stuart, hands outstretched. “It is lovely as always to see you, Stuart.”
He grasped her palms enthusiastically and proceeded to plant kisses on the lace overlay of her gloves. “Jenna, my dear. I do hope you have sufficiently recovered from your most trying experience last eve.”
“I have,” she murmured, withdrawing her hands from his. “Do sit down.” She looked up at Sebastian. “Would you be so kind as to pour Stuart a drink?”
“Oh nothing for me,” Stuart said as he flounced over to take a seat. “I’ve no tolerance for spirits, I’m afraid. The last time had me a trifle disguised, and I only had a spot of Father’s port.” He waved a hand in the air and sniffed daintily. “I vowed never to consume anything stronger than tea. I daresay even lemonade might drive me straight to my bed.”
Quinn regarded Stuart with ill-disguised disgust then pinched his lips together. Jenna shot him a warning glance. It wouldn’t do for Quinn to insult Stuart. Not with Papa gone. The viscount would be furious.
“I do believe we should be going,” she announced. “We wouldn’t want to be late for the musicale and risk not getting a seat.” She cast an amused glance at her brothers and winked at them.
“Indeed not!” Stuart exclaimed, getting up and swirling the voluminous coat around him. “Why, Lady Westlake’s musicale is the height of the season. And her daughter. So fair and gifted with a voice that would shame a lark.”
Jenna’s shoulders shook as she rolled her eyes heavenward. A lark? Maybe a buzzard. Did buzzards sing? Perhaps she could hope a lark flew into Lucretia’s open mouth and rendered her unable to make a sound. The windows would likely be grateful, as would any unfortunate people in attendance.
Even though Lady Westlake’s musicale was studiously avoided, she always managed to trap several poor souls into attending each year.
Stuart collected a most hideous hat from a straight-faced Thomas as they exited the house and secured it on his head. The long feather plume swung about as he walked in lively fashion out to the carriage. Jenna kept a cautious distance so her coiffure didn’t suffer irreparable damage from whatever bird had been unfortunate enough to forfeit his life.
Was Lady Westlake hosting a masque instead of a musicale? If so, Stuart was certainly dressed for the occasion.
They climbed into the carriage and rolled away enroute to Lady Westlake’s residence on Mount Street. When they arrived, as Jenna expected, a footman greeted them at the door with an ornately scribed flier. Jenna excused herself to the ladies’ retiring room, leaving Stuart to wait on her before they entered the drawing room.
As she peered at herself in the mirror, she wasn’t surprised to see faint smudges under her eyes. Perhaps she ought to give thought to dabbling with some of the cosmetics so many other women wore. It would certainly go a long way in disguising her evident fatigue.
With a heavy sigh, she returned to the foyer and took the arm Stuart offered. They glided down the long hallway, stopping to converse with a few of Stuart’s acquaintances and some of Jenna’s own.
Moments later, they paused at the doorway of the drawing room and Jenna peered around the room, curious to see who else had been consigned to an evening of agony.
She was surprised to see Lady Lockhart across the room, head bent in conversation with two other ladies. Then to her utter astonishment, Gray walked over to collect Lady Lockhart.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart lurched. What was he doing here?
Chapter Nine
She stared shamelessly as he escorted Lady Lockhart to a seat on the f
irst row. Like someone with a dire thirst, she drank in his appearance, her eyes flitting over the tight-fitting breeches and up to the soft curls resting on the crisp, white collar of his shirt.
Everything about his appearance set her senses on fire. She knew for a fact he wore no padding in the shoulders or thighs. His bulk was all his own, and she looked forward to running her hands over each and every one of his muscles.
As if sensing her perusal his head came up, and their eyes connected for a long moment. Surprise lit his smoky depths, but he continued to stare at her.
“I say, Jenna. Let’s hurry so we can be seated on the first row.”
Stuart’s grip on her arm startled her into motion, and she broke eye contact with Gray. “The front row?” Panic swept over her. She couldn’t possibly sit in such close proximity to Gray.
Stuart rushed forward, nearly dragging her in his haste to get to the front. He handed her into the row Gray was sitting in, and Gray rose as Jenna stood rigidly before him. “My lady.” He inclined his head politely.
Lady Lockhart leaned forward, a kind smile lighting her face. “Good evening, Lady Jenna. How are you, my dear? Have you recovered from your most trying experience?”
She glanced quickly over at Gray, sure that he had heard by now what happened at the opera. His expression was unreadable. “Very well, my lady,” Jenna said, dipping into a curtsy. “You are most kind to ask.” She slid into her seat, careful to keep a respectable distance from Gray.
Her eyes snaked sideways, and annoyance gripped her as she heard Lady Lockhart’s soft laughter, saw her face light up as Gray murmured something close to her ear. Really. It was unseemly for a woman of Lady Lockhart’s advanced age to be fawning over a much younger gentleman. But what really bothered Jenna was imagining another woman holding a place in Gray’s affections. In his bed.
Heat crept up her neck, and she turned away from Lady Lockhart’s shining countenance. Instead, she studied the program she held in her hand, and began to read Lady Lucretia’s listed attributes.
Of Excellent breeding and composure.
Made her sound like a bloody cow. Jenna continued down the list.
Sweet disposition and of moderate temperament.
Sings like an angel and is accomplished at the pianoforte.
Her beauty knows no comparison.
Well that much was true. Jenna suppressed a grin. Indeed, Lady Lucretia’s beauty, or lack thereof, was legendary.
“Jenna, I am going to fetch a glass of punch. Shall I bring one back to you as well?”
“Yes, that would be lovely, Stuart,” she said, glancing up out of the corner of her eye. “Thank you.”
He beamed at her and hurried toward the back of the drawing room.
“Why didn’t you tell me what happened at the opera?” Gray’s voice sounded low in her ear.
She turned her startled gaze to him. Then she looked beyond him to Lady Lockhart who was conversing with the lady on her other side. “I didn’t give any thought to it.”
His expression was intense, and he raked over her face with stormy eyes. “How could you not tell me you came so close to peril?”
She swallowed, then opened and closed her mouth in the same breath. “It was nothing, truly.” Well not unless she counted having a gun focused on her head nothing, but there was little point in being dramatic so she said nothing further.
“Are you coming tonight?”
His abrupt change in topic caught her off guard and she paused a moment. “Why, yes. That is if you still want me to,” she stammered out.
“We’ll talk about it then,” he murmured, raising his head as Stuart returned bearing two cups.
“Here you are, Jenna,” Stuart sang out as he plopped down beside her.
She smiled tremulously and took the punch. Beside her, Gray shook with silent laughter, and she shot him a poisonous look. He flashed a wide grin and turned his attention back to Lady Lockhart. Jenna frowned and chewed absently on the inside of her cheek.
She knew what he was. It was why she had come to him in the first place, but reality stung. In the space of a few stolen moments, she’d come to believe that she was special. Something more than just another woman falling at the feet of the greatest lover to ever grace the London drawing rooms.
Well, maybe that was a slight exaggeration. Surely the history of London society was dotted with other debonair gentleman. But it was generally agreed upon by the women of the ton that Grayson Douglas was a superb lover. Which meant a lot of them had no doubt experienced his considerable charms.
And how that irked her.
She clenched her hands around the leaflet until it crumpled in her fist. It was irrational for her to be having these pangs of jealousy. She held no claim on Grayson Douglas.
Her attention was drawn to the front as Lady Westlake, beaming with pride, gestured for her daughter to come to the pianoforte. Then she clapped her hands for attention.
And the caterwauling commenced.
By evening’s end, Jenna was convinced she’d been rendered deaf in both ears. Stuart stood enthusiastically when Lucretia took her final bow and began clapping like mad. With resigned expressions, the people in the rows behind Stuart also stood and offered polite applause.
Lucretia blushed pink with pleasure, and her mamma nearly swooned in her excitement. Evident on her face was the certainty that this would be the year her daughter snagged a husband. And not a year too soon, as Lucretia was rumored to be of the advanced age of nine and twenty.
“I’ll return in just a moment,” Stuart said. “I want to congratulate Lady Lucretia on an excellent performance.”
Jenna nodded and watched as he approached Lady Westlake and Lady Lucretia with something akin to euphoria. It was going to take the majority of her married life to figure him out. A heavy sensation settled over her. While her marriage wouldn’t be horrific, it wasn’t going to be anything like she’d dreamed.
She thought of her conversation with Gray the night before and wondered if he wasn’t more privileged than she. He had no expectations, no family honor to uphold, and no one was expecting him to marry before he was ready. And he would get to choose who he married. What a luxury. A luxury denied to most women of her station.
A sigh escaped before she could call it back, and she looked quickly around to make sure it went unheard. Her eyes collided with Gray’s inquisitive stare. He searched her face, his eyes narrowing the longer he stared. Could he see her thoughts?
She looked quickly away, unable to bear his scrutiny any longer. Stuart returned from his errand of adulation and offered his arm to her. “Are you ready to depart, Jenna, or would you prefer to stay for refreshments?”
“I think I’d like to go home now,” she murmured.
“Let me go have the footman summon our carriage. I’ll return for you in a moment.”
She started to protest, but he’d turned away and hurried out before she could say she’d just accompany him. Looking around for any familiar faces, she was careful to avoid Lady Lockhart and Gray, though she could hear their soft laughter as they conversed with a small circle of people.
Relief lightened her mood as she saw Stuart approaching, but he wore a deep frown and waved his hands in front of his face in an agitated fashion. “Dear me!” he exclaimed, as he drew abreast of her.
“Whatever is the matter?” she asked sharply.
“My carriage!” he sputtered. “My carriage has suffered a broken wheel. My dear, I shall have to summon a hackney.”
Jenna nearly laughed at the mortified expression on his face. She laid a comforting hand on his arm. “A hack will be just fine, Stuart.”
“Pardon me. I couldn’t help but overhearing your predicament.” Gray’s voice rumbled over her, and she whirled around to face him. Her jaw worked up and down, but no words would form.
He extended a hand to Stuart. “We haven’t been formally introduced, Mr. Eglin. Grayson Douglas at your se
rvice.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Stuart said as he gingerly shook Gray’s hand, his full sleeves billowing and falling down his arm.
“I would be delighted to convey you home in my carriage,” Gray offered.
“What a dear, dear man you are, sir.” Stuart beamed at him and turned to Jenna. “Did you hear that, my dear? This kind gentleman has agreed to show us home.”
“Shouldn’t you see Lady Lockhart home?” she asked more sharply than she intended.
He smiled and replied, “I assure you Lady Lockhart has no need of me. She has already departed.”
Jenna flushed and glanced away.
“If you would be so kind as to give me your direction, I shall inform my driver to take us there at once,” Gray said to Stuart.
Gray ushered them to the foyer and motioned for the footman to summon his carriage. Moments later he handed Jenna up into the seat then stepped aside for Stuart to climb in.
Gray settled into the seat across from her and Stuart, and the carriage rocked into motion. “Since your residence is closer, Mr. Eglin, we’ll make our first stop there. I’ll make sure Lady Jenna arrives safely home in your stead.”
“You are a true gentleman,” Stuart said with a delicate sniff. “I don’t care what others might say of you.”
Jenna gasped. “Stuart! That wasn’t a polite thing to say at all.”
Stuart looked at her in surprise. “But Jenna, I was merely complimenting Mr. Grayson.”
“It was a backhanded slight, and you know it,” she said fiercely. “I am surprised at you, Stuart. You aren’t usually so vulgar.”
Gray’s lips twitched suspiciously. “Your defense is most appreciated, my lady. But completely unnecessary. I didn’t take offense at Mr. Eglin’s kind words at all.”
“There, you see, Jenna? I handed no insult.” Stuart huffed and flounced back into the seat, a sulky twist to his mouth.
She glanced apologetically at Gray who winked at her in return. When they pulled up in front of Stuart’s father’s townhome, she felt some measure of relief. But when he exited the carriage and she found herself staring across at Gray’s imposing presence, she almost wished Stuart was back.