One Scandalous Kiss

by Christy Carlyle

  Judging by the scowl on his father’s face, Jess wasn’t certain anything would prevent a fuss, but she turned to leave, glancing back at Lucius when she reached the threshold.

  “I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

  The promise in his gaze and tone reassured her. She would do as he bid her and wait for him in his study, but she knew Lady Stamford would be in a dither over her brother’s injury and sought her out first.

  She found the countess in a spacious upstairs guest room.

  “Jessamin, there you are, my dear. Would you come help me organize this room?”

  The room was meant to house Lord Dunthorpe until his portion of the house could be repaired, and Jess directed the placement of furniture and arrangement of the earl’s possessions. It seemed the only personal item he’d have to do without was his enormous bed.

  Seeing that Jess had the room preparations well in hand, Lady Stamford headed downstairs to reassure the other guests at breakfast and see May Sedgwick off to the train station.

  An hour later, the room looked ready. The earl’s belongings and furniture lent it a comfortable, lived-in air, and Jess thought Lord Dunthorpe might end up enjoying the move after all. After sending one of the maids up to tell Lucius and Mrs. Ives the room awaited its occupant, Jess made her way to Lucius’s study.

  It seemed cavernous and hollow without Lucius’s presence, but hints of his spice scent lingered in the air, and that soothed her. She considered reading while she waited for him and entered the library through the connecting door. Selecting The Count of Monte Cristo, Jess curled up on a settee near the windows and watched as dark clouds swept across the sky. They churned and twisted, much like the thoughts in her head, but there was a glimmer of clear sky on the far horizon. And there was a single beacon in her mind’s chaos too.

  I love him. Nothing else was as clear as that single thought, that unwavering feeling, that absolute certainty. I love Lucius.

  JESS WOKE TO the sound of Lucius’s deep voice carried through from the study. “We should speak elsewhere. Jessamin’s asleep in the library.”

  “She should hear this, Lucius.” At Lady Stamford’s reply, Jess sat up and almost knocked Lucius’s favorite book onto the floor. She reached out to grab it as he spoke again.

  “Yes, but I hate to disturb her. She looked peaceful.”

  Jess walked over to replace Lucius’s book, careful to tuck it in as neatly as she’d found it. When she turned back to the connecting door, Lucius’s voice rang through it.

  “I can’t marry her. I won’t.”

  At his emphatic declaration, Jess’s heart stalled. She gripped the edge of the bookcase, unable to catch her breath.

  “You heard her. The woman has no interest in marrying me. And she’s halfway to London by now.”

  Jess inhaled and then gasped air into her lungs. May. He was talking about May.

  “He’ll continue to insist.”

  “He insisted he wouldn’t leave his rooms and now he has a gash on the head for his stubbornness.”

  Lady Stamford’s voice turned quiet, tentative. “We could consider other options.”

  “If you mean to show me that list of eligible women again, I’ll be tempted to wreck the other half of the house.”

  “I have only one woman in mind. As I’m guessing you do. A dowry is the issue we must conquer.” Lady Stamford’s voice held the same tone Jess had heard every time the countess set out to overcome a dilemma.

  “Damn a dowry! There are other means of raising money.”

  Jess heard Lucius’s footsteps approach the door between his study and the library and she sank back against the wall. What a coward she was to eavesdrop rather than join the battle, as Mr. Wellesley would no doubt urge her to do.

  “How much does the estate require?” Lady Stamford asked.

  There was a pause, a long drawn-out silence, and then Jess heard Lucius retreat across the room. “More than you can imagine.”

  A rustle of papers followed.

  “Good heavens.”

  Jess approached the door and turned the knob, stepping into Lucius’s study.

  He leaned against the front edge of his desk, arms crossed, head down, and his shoulders slumped. She hated the defeat etched in every line of his body.

  When he heard her footsteps and looked up, a light lit his eyes.

  “Jessamin, I’m sorry we woke you.” He approached and reached for her hands, seemingly unconcerned that his aunt witness the action, but Jess still considered Lady Stamford her employer and held back.

  “Aunt Augusta, would you mind if I have a word alone with Jessamin?”

  Lady Stamford assessed them a moment before acquiescing. She called to the dogs, who’d settled near the fireplace, and then turned to Lucius.

  “I’ll grant you a moment, my boy. That is all. Then I have a proposal both of you should hear.”

  She laid a sheaf of documents on a side table before departing and Jess stepped away from Lucius to retrieve them.

  “You needn’t—”

  “May I?”

  They spoke over each other, but Lucius nodded as if he’d heard her request.

  “It’s not happy reading, I warn you.”

  They appeared to be invoices, with descriptions of work and associated costs, from masons, bricklayers, carpenters, and smiths. The figures on the documents added up to an astounding sum, more than her father had ever dreamed of earning in his life. More than most men could fathom.

  “They are estimates. But the work is all necessary if we’re to restore the eastern walls and renovate the tenant housing.”

  Jess lifted the papers out to him, and Lucius took them, returning the documents to a precisely arranged pile on his desk. She’d been eager to get them out of her hands, and yet he couldn’t ignore them so easily.

  “This has been hanging over you. I’m sure it weighs on your mind. It must be difficult to think about anything else.” Jess realized she wasn’t just speaking of Lucius, but of her own preoccupation with bills that couldn’t be paid, money that was nowhere to be found.

  He lifted off the desk and stalked toward her, reaching out to grasp one of the ribbons at the neck of gown. Jess’s breathing hitched and she edged toward him. Being near him felt so right, she could almost forget the rest.

  “That was true until quite recently.” He wrapped the length of ribbon around his index finger. “Until a night in Mayfair when I met the most extraordinary woman.” He reached a hand up to the curve of her waist, urging her closer. “And she has so completely taken hold of my mind that I have few thoughts about anything else.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and Jess kissed him with all the passion, all the love she felt. She gasped when he palmed her breast with one hand and reached around with his other to cup her backside. Light-headed, breathless, she pulled back to gaze at him, imprinting the image in her mind. His lips trembled, and his eyes shone with the same need that made her body ache. A lock of hair curled down onto his forehead, and she reached up to stroke the silky strand.

  “I love you.”

  She’d finally said the words to him, and he smiled. She wanted to remember that too. A pain, that searing burn as if her heart had turned to a glowing coal, made her gasp. But it was right that it should hurt. She knew her next words would be the most difficult of her life.

  “I love you, but I cannot give you what you need.”

  He tensed and his body went hard in her arms, stony and still, as immovable as the statue she’d imagined him to be the night they’d met.

  “You are what I need.”

  Jess pushed gently at his chest. If she was to do this, she could not bear him so near.

  “Those estimates on your desk say otherwise.” When Lucius released her and she stood two steps away, Jess chafed her hands together, suddenly cold. “I don’t mind talk of money. I was raised in a shop, after all. You need money, and I haven’t even earned my first month’s wages from your aunt.”

&
nbsp; For several minutes, Lucius stared at her blankly, as if was looking through her, past her. Then he lifted a hand and scrubbed it across his face.

  “I don’t need your wages, Jessamin. Only you.”

  His words, so heart melting the first time she’d heard them, sounded now like an unbearably great responsibility. As if he believed her merits outweighed the enormous sums owed to the repairmen. As if she was more valuable to him than a grand estate. As if his desire for her negated his duty to his father. But was she that much of a prize? Jess wasn’t convinced her worth could compensate him for all that he might lose if she became his wife.

  “What if I’m not enough?”

  He tipped his mouth at that, though the expression was more sardonic than pleased. “For a taciturn man with an irascible father and a crumbling home?”

  Biting her lip, Jess weighed the various arguments she’d been having with herself all morning.

  “I love you enough to wish for your happiness more than my own.” She’d repeated the thought in her head, but her voice trembled when she expressed the sentiment.

  “Me too, but I believe they are one and the same.”

  Jess shook her head. That couldn’t be. Happiness couldn’t be so easily grasped when it had eluded her for so long.

  Lucius crossed the space she’d created between them before she could rally another argument.

  “My darling Jess, trust me to find the money.”

  The moment the words slipped out, Jess clasped a hand to her mouth and began to shiver. Her body went hot then cold and her pulse slowed to a sluggish thud.

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  “M-my father used to say that.”

  She heard it then, similar words but in her father’s London accent. She no longer saw Lucius but Lionel Wright’s beseeching face. Trust me to find the money, love.

  “I take it your father couldn’t be trusted.” Despite Lucius’s gentle tone, the words were hard to hear. The truth was hard to hear.

  “Not with money, no. Not after Mother died. He only knew how to make it disappear.”

  Jess didn’t have the will to resist when Lucius gathered her near, resting his chin on the top of her head. He rubbed his hands down her arms, and drew delicious circles across her back. The urge to melt into him, to reach out and grasp whatever future he offered . . . She’d never known a greater temptation.

  He drew back and assessed her. “You’ve stopped shivering, but I suspect you didn’t get a bite of breakfast. Let me speak to my aunt, check on Father, and see to the remaining guests. Then we can talk.”

  Exhaustion made the few steps across the study seem like a mile, and when Jess heard Lucius’s footsteps behind her, she half hoped he might offer to carry her up the stairs.

  “Jessamin, if not trust, then time. Give me that and I will sort this out.”

  His confidence was palpable, like a current of energy she could draw from to fuel her hopes. But hopes weren’t certitude, and Jess still wasn’t certain Lucius might not be happier with a wealthy wife, a contented father, and an estate with ceilings that didn’t collapse when it rained.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  THOUGH IT WAS early evening and most guests had retired to their rooms, Lucius knew returning to his own room wouldn’t bring any rest. After speaking to Jessamin in the morning and dealing with his father’s ire much of the afternoon, he’d overseen the departure of nearly all the houseguests. Only Kitty Adderly and Wellesley remained, and Lady Katherine promised to make her way back to London on the first morning train. He’d sought Jessamin out before luncheon, but a maid informed him that she was resting and he hadn’t the heart to disturb her. Still, he longed for nothing more than to spend the night in her arms, to hold her and love her, to pleasure her with every ounce of energy he had left after a day that had upended his life in the most fortuitous of ways.

  Somehow he had to convince her to stay. He had to convince her to be his wife.

  His body protested with every step he took past her bedroom, but he willed his heated thoughts to cool and turned toward Aunt Augusta’s door. He’d yet to find an opportunity to speak with her and formulate a plan to deal with the estate’s finances.

  Fatigue and worry for Maxim had painted dark shadows under his aunt’s eyes, but her mouth still curved up when he stepped into her sitting room.

  “Nothing douses a house party like a flood.”

  Lucius chuckled, finding that particular sound quite easy all of a sudden.

  Augusta looked as shocked by the sound as he was by the realization.

  “Hardly a flood, Aunt Augusta, just a minor torrent.”

  Castor and Pollux were sprawled in a heap on the settee, and she nudged one dog’s rump to make a place for him.

  “Thank goodness Maxim wasn’t severely harmed.”

  “Yes.” If anything, his father’s injury made him more indignant than usual, but it was a relief to know his wound would heal quickly. No doubt his anger over being removed from his usual rooms would take longer to cool. While his father had finally relented and agreed to relocate temporarily, Lucius had yet to further broach the topic of Hartwell’s future and his own. Though he hadn’t witnessed it, his father had apparently spent the better half of an hour complaining to Augusta about Lucius’s mismanagement of the estate and his desire to marry to suit his whims rather than as duty dictated.

  Settling himself in a chair across from his aunt, Lucius was uncertain how to begin. All his hopes rested on his ability to find a way out of the estate’s financial troubles.

  Augusta generally loathed silence and often jumped in to fill the quiet with a quip or platitude. Tonight she simply watched him with an inscrutable expression.

  “I plan to ask Jessamin to be my wife.”

  His aunt sniffed and fussed with the folds of her gown.

  “I take that as a given. I did allow you two more than a moment unchaperoned. I thought you might have asked her then.”

  “No. I can’t ask her until the rest is settled. She trusted her father to overcome their financial difficulties, and he failed her. She needs to see that I can find a way.” Lucius eased back in his chair, letting a deep breath whoosh through his lips. “But you approve of the match?”

  “How could I not? You seem set on it, and you know my feelings for the girl. I consider her a treasure.”

  Lucius opened his mouth, snapped it shut, and then began to speak again, only to find his aunt had left him at a complete loss for words.

  “She’s a quite singular young woman, and I can only take pleasure in losing her as a companion if I will gain her as a niece.”

  “Father—”

  “—will come to admire her as we all do. Don’t worry yourself on that point, my boy.”

  With a moment’s reflection, Lucius wasn’t truly surprised by his aunt’s approval. She adored Jessamin. But he felt none of Augusta’s certainty about Father blithely accepting Jessamin as his bride.

  “Did she often speak of returning to London?” Lucius fisted his hand as he asked the question. A nagging fear had unsettled him throughout the day. What if Jessamin’s resistance to their match had as much to do with the kind of life she preferred as the sort she thought he needed? Perhaps he’d presumed too much. Surely she missed her shop and the ladies of the Women’s Union Lady Katherine mentioned. He didn’t even know if she had family in London who might be missing her as fiercely as he would if she left Hartwell.

  He wouldn’t be a man who suffocated his wife with demands, jealous of every moment she spent out of his sight, so possessive that all she longed for was escape. He wouldn’t be his father.

  And yet, what if he was like him? He’d never wanted anything as he wanted Jessamin. He did long for each moment he could have her to himself, and all morning he’d feared nothing so much as the possibility that she would leave.

  His aunt considered his question a long while before tilting her head and replying. “No, my boy, she never did. She mentioned a fri
end called Alice and a coffee shop she used to frequent.” A devout tea drinker, Augusta shivered at the mention of coffee, but Lucius had rather enjoyed a hearty cup of it on his occasional visits to London. He made a mental note to have Hartwell’s cook order coffee.

  “And she did mention the desire to visit London, just a day trip, perhaps in the spring.”

  Relief deflated and buoyed him all at once. The tension in his body eased and yet he leaned forward, eager to attack the matter at hand.

  “I have an idea, Aunt Augusta. Several, actually, about how we might address the repairs to the estate and secure its future financial health.”

  Augusta moved so that she truly faced him on the settee, her eyes alight with eagerness. “I also have information that might prove useful to you, but carry on and tell me your plans first.”

  “Information?” He could see she was bursting to divulge it. “Perhaps you should share your information first. Particularly if it involves knowledge of a hidden treasure buried on the estate.”

  “I’m afraid not, my dear. This concerns my own contribution to your happiness, and Jessamin’s.” She puffed out her chest, inhaling deeply, as if preparing herself for a momentous declaration. “I will, of course, release her as my companion.”

  Lucius leaned forward and lifted a hand. “Now, wait. I haven’t asked her yet. She hasn’t agreed to be my wife. I don’t wish to coerce her into that choice.”

  “Of course not! I will wait for the proper moment. However, I wish to give her something, and I fear she won’t accept it if she views herself as my employee.”

  Knowing his aunt, her history, and her affection for Jessamin, Lucius guessed what she might be planning.

  “I would like to provide her a dowry.”

  Lucius didn’t care if Jessamin brought a farthing into their marriage, but he could see in Augusta’s face that she was determined. She’d lost a daughter, his cousin who’d only lived long enough for her christening, and he hadn’t missed the maternal care his aunt had shown Jessamin. Gratitude made it difficult to speak and certainly impossible to say all that he wished to, but he managed to dip his head and reach for his aunt’s hand. “Thank you.”