Grace arched a brow when Jacinda hesitated. “She has a dreamy expression. I would assume that means that Lord Northfield is every bit the lover his reputation would lead one to believe. Well done, Jacinda.”
The blush burned hotter as she shot Grace a glare, though she was happy enough not to have to correct what her friend believed. She was spot-on correct, and Jacinda shivered as she recalled Jason touching her anywhere...everywhere.
Isabel reached out and took her hand, shattering her memories before they could become too heated.
“I am happy that you are finally on the receiving end of some pleasure. You deserve it. But…” Once again Isabel shot a meaningful look toward Grace before she continued. “You and Jason have been friends for many years. And that could easily complicate matters between you. I would only urge you, in what I recognize is entirely unsolicited advice, to be careful. I wouldn’t want you to have your heart broken.”
Jacinda tensed. Her friend was too close to the truth of how she felt. And although she loved Grace and Isabel, she didn’t want them to see how foolish she already was. Their pity was too heavy a weight to bear.
Instead she smiled, waving off the concern as if it meant nothing to her. “There is no need to worry about that. Jason and I have already agreed that the time we spend together in pleasurable activity is only to train me.”
The moment the words left her lips, Jacinda wished she could snatch them back. She had never meant to reveal her secondary goal, her idea that she might become a man’s mistress. But now she had said too much in an attempt not to look like an idiot about Jason’s passionate touch.
“Training you?” Grace asked, scooting closer, her bright eyes pinning Jacinda in place. “That sounds very interesting. What in the world could he be training you for by bedding you, my dear?”
Isabel leaned in on the other side and the two women had her trapped. Jacinda let out a long sigh.
“I’m going to tell you the whole truth now and I want you to promise you won’t interrupt me, no matter what you have to say about it.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Of course, actions will have their costs. Some are worth paying and some we can negotiate.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures
As Jacinda finished her explanation about Carnthorn—his approach to her after seeing the book on her birthday, his offer that she become his mistress and the ideas it had put into her head—she waited for the room to erupt in both questions and admonitions. Instead, Grace and Isabel both collapsed back into their chairs, almost at once, and stared at her.
“I’ve finished,” Jacinda offered when they were silent for what seemed like forever. “So you may speak now.”
“I’m trying,” Isabel said, shooting her a look like she had never actually seen her before.
“Yes, you’ve given us a great deal to digest.” Grace pushed to her feet and paced away to the window. When she turned, she pierced Jacinda with another of those inescapable stares. “So it was Carnthorn’s suggestion that you become a mistress, specifically his mistress, that drove Jason to this ruse to protect you.”
Jacinda shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“But surely you aren’t serious when you say you are considering the idea of becoming a man’s mistress,” Isabel interjected.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Isabel threw up her hands in disbelieving laughter. “A few months ago, when I suggested that I would discreetly take a lover after I saw my sister married, you acted as though I had lost my mind.”
Jacinda shrugged. “But that was before.”
“Before you actually experienced pleasure,” Grace said softly.
Jacinda nodded. “Jason is convinced that I will find a husband through his ruse, but I remain uncertain. And honestly, I don’t know if I want that life. I would be foolish not to consider the alternative.”
“Jacinda,” Isabel said softly, her tone filled with concern and perhaps just a hint of disapproval.
She met her friend’s eye evenly. “I must consider it all, Isabel. Unlike you and Grace, my circumstances offer me little freedom. And I want that freedom, no matter the potential cost.”
Grace took a step toward her, ready to argue, no doubt, when the door to the parlor opened and Isabel’s butler stepped inside.
“What is it, Edwards?” Isabel asked, her tone strained.
“I’m sorry to intrude, my lady, but Miss Downing has a visitor,” the servant said.
Jacinda jerked her gaze to the man as she rose to her feet. “A visitor? Here?”
Her mind raced as she tried to think of who would come here looking for her. Her aunt came to mind. Perhaps Jason, though she had no idea why either of them would disturb her time with her friends
“It is your father, Miss Downing,” the butler explained, totally unaware that his statement made Jacinda’s ears begin to ring and her legs go out from under her as she sank back into her chair.
Isabel paled a shade and took Jacinda’s hand. Jacinda was happy for the touch—it felt like someone dragging her back above water when she was drowning.
“Jacinda,” Isabel said, her voice seeming to come from far away. “Are we in residence for your father?”
Jacinda blinked. She hadn’t seen any of her family since Christmas, a holiday she would rather forget, for it had been highly unpleasant
“You don’t have to see him,” Grace added, her voice gentle.
Jacinda cut off a bark of humorless laughter. “Of course I do. He obviously knows I’m here, and whatever he has to say must be important or he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to find me. He won’t leave, and even if he did, I would pay later for daring to refuse him in front of a duchess and a marchioness.” She shuddered at just the thought. “I must see him.”
Isabel nodded once and Jacinda was relieved she wouldn’t have to argue further. The marchioness looked at her butler. “You may show the gentleman in.”
The servant was well-trained enough to show no reaction whatsoever to the exchange between the women. He merely bowed from the room, leaving the door open behind him as he went to fetch Jacinda’s father.
She clenched her hands as she waited, her mind spinning with all the things he could be here to tell her. None of them were pleasant in nature, mostly because her relationship with the man had grown so sour over the years. He hated her. It was a fact she had accepted, but oh, how it stung.
“Jacinda, we are here for you,” Grace said, coming to her chair and putting an arm around her as Edwards returned.
“Lord Whitehearth.”
He stepped aside, and her father entered as Jacinda slowly got to her feet. He had gained at least a stone since she last saw him, but his face remained the same: hard, unkind.
“Your Grace, Lady Lyndham,” he said, looking at Grace first, then Isabel, before he flitted a brief and dismissive glance over his own daughter. He did not verbally acknowledge her.
“Lord Whitehearth,” Isabel said, moving forward, though anyone who knew her could see her posture and tone were not welcoming. “What a surprise.”
“Indeed, a surprise to me as well,” Jacinda’s father said. “I went to Jacinda’s aunt’s home searching for my daughter, only to be told she was here with you, Lady Lyndham. I could not turn down a chance to come by and speak to her, as well as see you and your husband.”
He looked around, as if the marquis would make himself known by popping out from behind a settee.
Isabel pursed her lips slightly. “Lord Lyndham is not at home presently, sir.”
“Ah, well, that is a shame. I hope you will pass along my most sincere regards to him.”
Jacinda blushed at her father’s obvious disappointment at that news. Always the social climber, he was.
Isabel nodded. “I shall. Now, how can we help you?”
Her father looked again at Jacinda, this time holding the stare much longer. Jacinda shifted. There was something in his eyes that she didn’t like. Something that made her heart beat faster
with anxious anticipation.
“I have great need to speak to my daughter,” her father said. He shot a look to Grace and Isabel. “May we have a moment alone?”
Grace gripped Jacinda’s shoulder harder, her eyes narrowing. “We were in the midst of tea, Lord Whitehearth. Surely whatever you have to say can wait.”
“It cannot.”
Jacinda sighed. There was no denying her father when he became stubborn. She knew it even though her friends did not.
“I’m certain my father wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t have something urgent to discuss,” she said, her voice cracking because of her dry throat. “Would you mind very much giving us a moment alone?”
Her father arched a brow, waiting, just as she was, for Isabel and Grace’s reaction.
“Very well,” Isabel said softly. “We will grant you the room.”
She shot Jacinda a final worried glance as she took Grace’s arm and all but dragged the overly protective duchess from the room. Jacinda noticed they did not close the door behind them, something that made her smile until her father remedied that by doing it himself.
Now they were truly alone and Jacinda fought to keep her face benign and calm.
“I’m shocked to have you show up here,” she said before he turned back to her. “I do not think you have visited me at Aunt Cordelia’s more than twice in all the time I’ve stayed there, let alone sought me out elsewhere.”
He faced her, eyes glittering, and smiled, though there was little warmth to the expression.
“You have never given me a reason before now,” he said, moving toward her. She resisted the urge to step back, but only barely.
“And that is?” she asked, shoving her hands behind her back so he would not see them shake.
“Don’t play coy, daughter,” he said. “It seems you may have some worth after all, if what I heard today is true.”
“And what did you hear?” she asked.
“That you have a suitor. Or perhaps even more than one suitor,” her father all but crowed.
Jacinda squeezed her eyes shut. She had known her father might get wind of her “suitors”, but had hoped he wouldn’t take an interest.
“I’m surprised you would believe it, with as little faith as you have in me,” she said, daring to meet his stare evenly.
He narrowed his eyes at her boldness. “I might not have except I heard it from one of the men himself. Lord Northfield paid a call to me not two hours ago.”
Jacinda fell back into the chair, staring up at her father in shock, humiliation and even anger. Jason had gone behind her back to the baron? Even after she had specifically asked him, no begged him, not to do so?
“Did he now?” she choked out. “I am shocked.”
“As was I,” her father conceded, taking a seat on a settee near her and grabbing two biscuits. He shoved one in his mouth in a single bite and spoke around it. “If you could catch a title, you might be worth something yet.”
She ignored the dig and said, “Why did Jason—Northfield come to see you?”
He shrugged. “Something about your dowry.”
She flinched as the humiliation she had felt blossomed even bigger. Jason felt she had to have a prize attached to her if she was to attract a man.
“Yes, apparently I have none,” she said, her words bitter and hard.
He shoved the second biscuit in his mouth. “If you have such interest, you may not need one. But although you are showing some promise, you have not yet brought your fish to shore. Northfield didn’t ask me for your hand, you see, so you are not yet free of the failure that has always followed you.”
She pushed to her feet and walked away from him. The only benefit she had received from her years of exile from her family was that she no longer had to hear these criticisms from her father. He had given up on her and so his directives on her actions and evaluations of her worth had all but disappeared. Until now.
“I will certainly do my best,” she said, keeping her back to him.
“It had better be more than your best,” he said, getting up and standing where she had no choice but to look at him. “In fact, even your best might not be enough and you certainly won’t get good council from your mother’s aunt. Cordelia barely caught her own husband.”
He seemed to be pondering something and Jacinda’s heart sank. “Father—”
He ignored her. “If you were home again with me, that might negate Northfield’s statements about a lack of dowry equaling a lack of support,” he mused, almost more to himself. “And I could assist you, make certain you will not ruin this chance—likely a last chance—for us all.”
“No!” Jacinda said, aware that she had almost screamed the word, but unable to stop herself from verbally expressing the pain and terror that exploded within her. “No, please!”
Without any warning, her father grasped her arm and shook her hard, making her teeth rattle.
“Watch your cheek, girl,” he said, his tone low and controlled but his eyes filled with rage so potent that she forgot her breath in a moment. “I will decide what is best for you and this time you won’t destroy my hard work.”
He released her and she staggered backward, nearly depositing herself on her backside as she scrambled out of his reach.
“I beg of you—” she began, but he waved her off, stalking toward the door in long, certain strides.
“It’s decided, daughter. I will make the arrangements and you’ll be home within the week. Ready yourself.”
He didn’t say goodbye. He only walked out, leaving the door open behind him. She stared, mute in her heartbreak, her fear, her rage. She sank down to her knees as the full weight of her father’s plans settled over her.
“I can’t go back,” she whispered, her voice foreign and pained as she clenched her stomach and fought not to scream, to sob, to bring the house down with emotions that before the past week, she would have been able to control.
“Oh dear God,” Isabel said as she rushed into the room, Grace heavy on her heels. “What is it, Jacinda? Call for a doctor, Grace.”
“No,” Jacinda choked as Grace turned to find a servant to do just that. “I don’t need a doctor.”
Her words came out as mere broken syllables and she struggled to regain calm if only to save her friends from their terror at seeing her broken and shaking on a parlor floor. She could only imagine what they felt.
Isabel did not seem certain, but she carefully knelt beside her friend, stroking her cheek with motherly soothing she had perfected while raising her sisters.
“What happened? What did he do?” she whispered.
Grace knelt on the other side, less practiced in her comfort, but just as sincere as she took Jacinda’s opposite hand.
“H-he will take me back to that house,” she gasped out, her breath mere sobs. “He’ll force me to his will again, and I fear this time I shall break.”
Isabel’s face crumpled and she drew Jacinda to her shoulder. “Oh my dear, I’m sorry. I know how hellish living with him was. But it’s different now. You are older, you are wiser, your time with Jason has made you more confident. Anyone can see that.”
“And if Jason’s ruse pays off, you could have your freedom from your father sooner than you think,” Grace added. “All the more reason to allow Northfield his games.”
“His games,” Jacinda repeated, thinking of Jason’s betrayal to her father. The truth of it burned within her gut, breaking her heart as much as fueling an anger she had never felt before.
“I want to leave,” she said, struggling from the loving circle of her friends and getting to her feet.
Isabel and Grace exchanged yet another worried glance, and both stood.
“Dearest, stay and have some tea. We can talk it out, work out a way to reduce your suffering,” Isabel suggested softly.
Jacinda swiped at the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand and shook her head. “No, I appreciate your offer and your love and your support, but I h
ave something I must do.”
She turned to Grace, who had brought her here earlier in the day, the only way her aunt would allow the boon of an afternoon to herself.
Her father would permit nothing of the sort.
“Please,” she whispered, meeting Grace’s eyes and holding there. “Please, will you take me, Gracie? Or allow me the brief use of your carriage so I may complete my errand before I’m forced into circumstances where such allowances will not be made.”
After a brief hesitation, Grace nodded. “Of course, if that is what you need, I’ll do anything you wish. We can depart immediately.”
Jacinda sighed in relief and turned to hug Isabel before she wandered, almost unseeing, into the foyer to wait for Grace’s carriage. Behind her, she heard Isabel say something to Grace beneath her breath and Grace’s low tone answered, something along the lines of, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”
Jacinda almost laughed. No one could take care of her now.
Grace slipped out to join her and as the carriage came into the drive, the two walked out together. When they were safely inside the quiet, the footman waiting outside for their direction, Grace arched a brow.
“Where do you need to go?” she asked softly, her tone neutral.
Jacinda wished her own could be the same as she hissed. “Jason’s home.”
Just the barest hint of surprise registered on Grace’s face and for a moment Jacinda thought her friend might argue. But then the duchess nodded and opened her window.
“Lord Northfield’s estate,” she said to the footman. “On Waverly Square.”
The vehicle lurched into motion a moment later and Grace settled back to stare at Jacinda. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
Jacinda shook her head. “Not at all. But I will by the time we arrive.”
At least, she hoped she would.
Chapter Seventeen
“There are many faces to love making: passionate, tender, even desperate. They all have their place.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures
A Moment of Passion (The Ladies Book of Pleasures) Page 16