This time the silence in the ballroom had a different quality. It was the stunned silence of horror. There was no room left for malicious gossip. This accusation was too damning, too public and too shocking.
Jemima heard Letty catch her breath in outrage. She felt her legs tremble beneath her and then Rob’s arm was about her and she could feel the anger in him, so protectively fierce that it seared her soul.
‘Hold your tongue, Augusta!’ Rob said. ‘You know nothing! Tilly Astley is not Jemima’s daughter and your slander reflects badly on no one but yourself.’
The drapes by the open window stirred as someone stepped into the room behind them.
‘I’m afraid that Selborne is utterly in the right of it, ma’am,’ Jack Jewell said, coming forward. He gave Augusta Selborne a contemptuous look. ‘You have completely the wrong end of the stick. Miss Astley is my daughter, not m’sister’s.’ He went up to Rob and offered his hand. ‘Since this seems to be the evening for tributes,’ he said with a grin, ‘perhaps I should add mine. Damned glad to have you as a brother-in-law, Selborne.’
Jemima blinked as Rob took Jack’s hand and shook it heartily. ‘Glad to see you, Jewell. Very glad,’ he added with a grin of his own. ‘Have you come to dance at my cousin’s ball?’
Jack turned to Letty and gave her an elegant bow. ‘Your servant, Miss Exton. I do apologise for my late arrival. May I offer you my congratulations on your birthday?’
Letty dropped a curtsy and gave Jack a dazzling smile. ‘I was not expecting to see you again, Mr Jewell, but you are very welcome.’
She gave Jack her hand and he seemed disinclined to release her again. The crowd in the ballroom was transfixed, sensing more drama to come. Rob flashed Jemima a smile, then shepherded Letty and Jack towards Lady Marguerite. Jemima caught her breath.
‘Grandmama,’ Rob said clearly, ‘you will remember Mr Jewell.’
Jack bowed. ‘Lady Marguerite…’
‘Mr Jewell.’ Surely that was a hint of warmth in Lady Marguerite’s frosty tones? It was impossible to tell, but Jemima thought she caught a glint of a smile in the lady’s cool blue eyes. She looked across at Rob again and saw that he was smiling too.
Letty, taking courage from her cousin, stepped forward to introduce Jack to the Duke of Merlin. ‘I hope, your Grace, that I may present Mr Jewell to you?’
Merlin bent and kissed Letty’s cheek. ‘You may do anything you wish on your birthday, my dear. Mr Jewell…’ He held a hand out to Jack. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance again. As Miss Astley’s guardian—’ he turned and glared witheringly at Augusta Selborne ‘—it is always a pleasure to see you.’
A murmur of comment broke the charged silence in the ballroom, but when Letty turned towards Augusta there was a pin-dropping quiet once more.
‘This is Miss Augusta Selborne,’ Letty said clearly. ‘I am afraid that no one likes her very much.’ She gestured to one of the footmen to come over and took a glass of red wine from his tray.
‘Four years ago Augusta managed to spoil my come-out,’ Letty continued conversationally, to the ballroom at large, ‘and tonight she has tried to spoil my birthday ball, but I am happy to say that she has not succeeded.’ She smiled sweetly at her erstwhile school friend. ‘I think that you should go home now, Augusta. Red wine is so staining.’ And she emptied the glass over Augusta’s elegantly coiffured head.
‘Grandmama always said that I had no decorum,’ she said.
It was already past dawn and breakfast had been taken when the last of the carriages rolled out of the gates of Swan Park and Rob went in search of his wife. Despite the fact that he had tried to keep her by his side, Jemima had been so much in demand that he had had to relinquish her to a succession of gentlemen, all of whom wished to dance with her. He had last seen her taking breakfast with her brother and the Duke and Duchess of Merlin, but then she had vanished. Rob had searched high and low, and had ended in their turret bedroom.
The window leading out to the balcony was open and the drapes were blowing in the slight breeze. The room was empty. Suppressing a shudder, Rob went out onto the balcony. He had always been afraid of heights and although there was plenty of space, he edged along, feeling his way along the wall and refusing to look over the parapet and down on to the cobbles below. By the time that he had reached the corner where the stone steps ran up to the roof, he was in a cold sweat.
‘Jemima?’ He could hear the quaver in his voice. The breeze caught the name and whisked it away as it whistled over the battlements. Rob made the mistake of looking down and felt a little sick.
‘Rob? I’m up here.’
He might have known that she would be up on the roof. First climbing chimneys and then on the roof. Rob winced. He loved his wife and he would not have changed her for anything, but sometimes her pastimes made him shudder.
He tilted his head up to see if he could see her. It was another mistake. White clouds tinged faintly with the pink of dawn swung drunkenly overhead against the pale blue sky. The cawing of the rooks sounded sinister, as though they were waiting for him to fall. Rob closed his eyes as the whole balcony started to tilt and spin.
‘Jemima,’ he said again, very deliberately, ‘would you please come down?’
‘Why don’t you come up?’ Jemima asked innocently.
Rob could see her now, or at least he could see her feet and ankles, and the hem of her green ball gown. He squinted to see if he had the angle correct to see more, and managed to catch a glimpse of silky stockings. It was almost sufficient to make him forget his vertigo.
‘I cannot come up,’ he said, groping his way to the bottom of the stone stair and hanging on for dear life. ‘Please come down.’
‘But there is such a lovely view up here!’ Rob saw Jemima settle on the edge of the battlements in a froth of white petticoats. She was sitting directly above his head. Rob groaned aloud.
‘Jemima, you are making me feel ill. I am afraid of heights.’
There was a pause. Rob opened his eyes again to see Jemima leaning over and her face peering down at him. He had a perfect view into the bodice of the green velvet dress. Her breasts seemed to be straining at the neckline, trying to break free. Rob took a deep breath.
‘Wait a moment. I am coming up.’
‘Rob, no! Wait!’ Jemima sounded genuinely distraught. ‘If you are afraid of heights then you must not attempt to come up here. You could become disorientated and fall off.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Rob said grimly, setting his teeth. He started up the stone steps, clinging to the handrail and keeping his eyes averted from the sheer wall of the house. How many steps to the roof parapet? Ten? Twelve? It felt like hundreds. Then he felt Jemima’s hand close strongly about his wrist, pulling him up, and he was standing on the roof and feeling as though he was being tossed on a very stormy sea indeed. He tried to focus, saw the ground far below, taunting him, and wished he had not looked.
‘Come and sit here.’ Jemima had a solicitous arm about him and drew him to the corner where the chimneystack protruded from the roof. ‘It is sheltered and we can sit comfortably. Why did you do that, Rob? You knew that I would have come down.’
Rob sank down onto the sloping roof and settled himself comfortably in the corner. The chimney-stack felt reassuringly solid against his shoulder and from here he could not see the ground.
‘Sometimes we cannot let our fears dictate to us,’ he said, slumping a little against the solid brick of the chimney.
Jemima scrambled up next to him.
‘I suppose I should not do this in such a pretty dress. It was just so fresh and clear up here that I wanted to see the view.’
Rob shuddered again and closed his eyes.
‘It was very brave of you, Rob,’ Jemima continued softly. ‘Do you feel better now that you are up here?’
‘No, I feel damnable.’ Rob opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘Talk to me. It will help me concentrate.’
‘It was a lovely ball, wasn�
�t it?’ Jemima said, smiling. ‘And so eventful!’ She giggled. ‘When Letty tipped the wine over Augusta I thought that everyone was going to cheer!’
‘Letty has been waiting a long time to do that.’ Rob grimaced. ‘Augusta has made her life a misery ever since they were at school together. With any luck we shall not see much of her in future.’
‘I thought that your grandmother was marvellous,’ Jemima said. ‘So much hauteur! And the Duke of Merlin looking down his nose at Augusta! Priceless!’ She sobered. ‘I am sorry, Rob. Augusta is your cousin, after all is said and done.’
Rob shrugged. ‘I still have Grandmama and Letty, and at this rate I shall have Jack as well…’
‘Yes…’ Jemima’s smile faded. ‘Was it not extraordinary when he came in? Such an entrance!’
‘Your brother has great style,’ Rob agreed, with a wry smile.
Jemima rested her head briefly against his shoulder. ‘I have so much to thank you for,’ she said softly. ‘The way that you greeted Jack like a friend and introduced him to your grandmother in front of everyone…’
‘It was the least that I could do,’ Rob said feelingly, ‘after he had gone so far to help me.’
Jemima moved slightly and her hair brushed his cheek. It felt soft and sweet.
‘When Jack told everyone about Tilly, I realised that he had already spoken of it to Letty,’ she said. ‘I was quite amazed. They cannot have met above half a dozen times and yet all that is important already seems settled between them.’
‘Sometimes it only takes one meeting to settle matters,’ Rob said softly. He smiled. ‘Letty will have to be prepared to fight for him, though. Half the ladies in the room were desperate to dance with him! How does he do it?’
‘Jack is a rogue,’ Jemima said. ‘The ladies love that spice of danger.’
‘And yet I feel that Letty would be quite safe with him.’
‘I think that you are right. But…’ Jemima wrinkled her brow. ‘I believe Jack loves Letty and I am certain she loves him, but surely it cannot happen, Rob? Jack has a trade. He is not a rich man, and he is far beneath her. I cannot see your grandmother ever agreeing to it.’
‘We shall see,’ Rob said. He put his arm about her and Jemima wriggled closer to him. ‘Grandmama seemed quite cordial to him this evening. And she did not give him away, did she?’
Jemima looked at him. ‘You mean she did not identify him as the highwayman? Perhaps she did not know.’
‘She knew,’ Rob said with a grin. ‘She told me Jack was the highwayman several nights ago. She also confessed to me that she had made enquiries about you. When I told her about how we met, she already knew. She knew everything about you.’
Jemima pursed her lips. ‘So it was Lady Marguerite. I wondered.’
‘What was?’
‘Jack came here originally to warn me that someone was asking questions about me. I wondered who it was…’ Jemima sighed. ‘So she knew everything and never said a word.’
‘I believe that what she said tonight was true,’ Rob said. ‘She asked me that day if I loved you and when I said that I did, she told me that that was all that mattered.’
Rob leaned his cheek against Jemima’s. It was cool from the fresh air. Sitting here, his arm about her, their bodies pressed close, he felt a contentment that nothing could touch.
‘You heard that Harry Naylor was not murdered after all?’ Jemima said softly. ‘Jack told me last night.’
‘I heard.’ Rob pressed a kiss against her hair. ‘I am so glad. For many reasons.’
‘Jack has the devil’s own luck,’ Jemima said. ‘To go and turn himself in, only to find there is no crime to answer.’ She sighed. ‘What do you mean to do about Ferdie, Rob?’
Rob frowned. It was the only thing that was left to decide. ‘I do not know. I will have to think about it, but not now.’ He smiled at her. ‘Mornings are for fresh beginnings.’
Jemima spoke softly. ‘Speaking of which, there is something that I have been remiss in telling you, Robert.’ Rob stiffened and Jemima leaned a little closer so that the soft curve of her body pressed against his.
‘It is nothing bad,’ she said. ‘I said just now that I had a great deal to thank you for.’ She hesitated. ‘When you sprang to my defence so eloquently this evening, I…’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘I wanted to cry,’ she said. ‘I had only just realised that I loved you, you see, and there you were, proving in front of all those people just how much you loved me…’
Rob felt the pleasure kick through his body, followed by a rush of protective love so strong he almost squeezed the breath out of her. He let her go and turned his face against her hair.
‘So you love me? Oh, Jemima, I have so wanted to hear you say that.’
She turned a smiling look on him. ‘I am sorry that I took so long. You have been very patient with me.’
Rob did not feel patient at all. In fact, he knew that if he had to be patient for very much longer he would probably expire with frustrated love and passion. He kissed her with love and desire and gentleness, revelling in their new-found joy, and then he let her go.
‘There is something that you could do for me, sweetheart,’ he said.
Jemima’s eyes were huge. ‘Yes?’
‘You can help me down the stairs,’ Rob said.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time that they regained their bedroom, Rob was a trembling wreck and Jemima was almost as pale with fear as he was himself.
‘You should never have come up on to the roof,’ she scolded as she helped him to lie down on the bed and took one of his shaking hands in her own. ‘I had no notion that your terror of heights was so extreme. You should have told me…’
Rob lay still and waited for the room to stop spinning and his breathing to settle. ‘I shall be very well again soon. Please do not distress yourself.’ He opened his eyes and smiled at her. Jemima’s piquant little face looked stricken as she gazed down at him. She was clutching his hand tightly in one of her own and stroking his cheek with her other hand. It was very nice. Rob gave a small sigh.
‘Jemima, dearest…’
‘Yes, love?’
‘It would probably help me to breathe if you were to take off my jacket.’
Rob struggled into a sitting position and Jemima obligingly helped to slide the jacket from his shoulders. Excellent. He lay down again with another small sigh and Jemima pressed a soft kiss on his brow. She smelled sweetly of rose water and honey. The round neck of the green dress afforded him a wondrous view of her breasts as she leaned over him to stroke his fevered brow. Rob gave a sigh of genuine emotion. He was starting to feel rather hot and the rest of his clothing felt rather too tight.
‘Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?’ Jemima asked.
Rob could think of several things. He gave her a feeble smile.
‘I confess that I do find my neckcloth rather constricting. And the waistcoat…’
The waistcoat was easily dealt with, but the neckcloth caused Jemima rather more of a problem since it was so intricately tied that she only seemed able to tie it into more of a knot. Rob lay still, almost fidgeting with frustration beneath her ministering fingers as she pulled and twitched it and finally gave a sigh of exasperation.
‘I believe I shall have to call Tilbury—’
‘No.’ Rob put out a hand and caught her wrist. ‘The poor fellow will be sleeping. You will find you get a better purchase if you move up here.’ He patted the bed beside him.
Dark eyes met lavender blue for a long moment and Rob knew that she had divined his true motives. He repressed a grin and tried to look innocent.
‘I have a better idea,’ Jemima said briskly. Before Rob could draw breath she had swung herself up on to the bed, climbed over and knelt above him, the froth of her velvet skirts spilling over them both and on to the coverlet.
‘Good God, Jemima!’ Rob tried to sit up and was forced firmly back by one of Jemima’s hands on his shirtfront.
‘Robert, dearest, you really must rest and not give way to violent impulses. You have sustained a horrid shock you know.’
‘Yes, but…’ Rob struggled and felt her thighs clasp tightly about him to keep him still. His whole body responded to the embrace of hers, tightening intolerably. His breeches had become at least two sizes too small for him.
‘Jemima, what the devil are you doing?’ he ground out.
‘It seemed to me that I would have more purchase for unfastening your neckcloth if I was on top of you,’ Jemima said, a little breathlessly. ‘Pray do hold still, Robert, or I shall never be able to do it.’
‘I had no idea that your legs were so strong,’ Rob said faintly. His mind was teeming with erotic images.
‘It is the benefit of years of climbing,’ Jemima said briskly. ‘I have almost finished…’
She leaned over him calmly and started to untangle the cravat at his throat. The glorious green velvet dress rustled and the neck dipped as she worked. The swell of her breasts strained at the rounded edge of the gown. After five seconds of mental torture Rob gave an infuriated shout, ripped the neckcloth apart and threw it on the floor, grabbed his wife around the waist and tumbled her over on to the bed beside him.
‘You minx, you did that on purpose!’
Jemima giggled. ‘I am sorry. I thought you deserved it for pretending to be in pain.’
‘I am in pain now,’ Rob said feelingly. He pulled her to him and his mouth swooped down to claim hers. It was hot and fierce and it silenced her completely. Their lips parted and Jemima gasped, ‘Do not forget the will, Robert—’
Rob shook his head. There was a heat and a tenderness inside him and he held her a little way away from him, scanning her face.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I do not forget it. It no longer matters to me.’
Jemima’s eyes widened as she took in his meaning. Her lips curved instinctively and he bent to kiss her again, unable to resist. She pulled back.
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