Again, her gaze slid to the door. This time not to see if someone was there, but to make sure someone wasn’t. And she didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed when she saw the door was still closed.
“Honora?” He used her name as a question. A plea for permission.
She was grateful he was asking for it. Terrified to give it. For once she stepped of this crumbling precipice, what could she use to pull herself back?
But if you don’t let yourself fall, a tiny voice whispered, how do you know if you can fly?
“All right.” She wet her lips. “You can kiss me if you’d like. But just this once,” she warned, holding up her finger for emphasis. “Our interest in each other is supposed to be for the benefit of my meddlesome family.”
Capturing her hand, he turned it over and pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat madly. “Even the most skilled actors need to rehearse. Consider this our practice before the grand performance.”
“I wasn’t aware our performance required k-kissing. Oh my.” Honora gasped as his lips began to trace a burning path up her arm. He paused to nuzzle the tiny concave of space between her shoulder and collarbone before lifting his head.
“It’s always good to be prepared.” The arm around her middle tightened, his fingers sinking into the curve of her hip in an intimate embrace that was just shy of wicked.
Then he gently claimed her mouth in a kiss.
Chapter Eight
Jasper’s kiss was both soft and unexpectedly tender. Honora’s eyes fluttered closed. She leaned into the embrace, her palms pressing against his chest. She felt the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin, the rippling of his muscles as her fingers instinctively trailed down towards the flat plane of his abdomen.
The kiss deepened. He cupped her nape, his fingertips gently dissolving her tension as his tongue ran along the seam between her lips. She opened her mouth on a mewl of pleasure and he slipped inside to taste and explore in long, lazy, lingering sweeps. Time fell away until every second passed by like a small eternity and Honora didn’t know if it was morning or night.
The cold glass at her back helped temper the flames rising within her. On a sigh, her head fell back, and Jasper kissed the side of her neck, his bristly whispers scraping against sensitive flesh. His hand slid down her back, following the delicate line of her vertebrae until he encountered the rounded curve of her bottom. He squeezed her flesh and her eyes flew open, shocked at the idea of someone touching her in such a private place...and shocked by how much she enjoyed his forbidden touch.
“What are you doing?” she moaned.
“Ravishing you,” he replied without hesitation. “Do you like it?”
Her lashes grew heavy as his mouth once again found her earlobe. “If I say yes, will you hold it over my head?”
“Most definitely.”
“Then I’ve absolutely loathed every second.” She slumped against the windowsill, her legs too weary to hold her upright any longer. “Do you think you could do that thing with your tongue where you – ahh,” she said on a tiny hum of pleasure. “Yes, that’s it.”
Honora couldn’t say how much longer the ravishing went on. A minute, an hour, a day. All she knew was that it exceeded her wildest expectations, and she wondered why she hadn’t allowed herself to be ravished sooner.
Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end, and at the sound of approaching footsteps and the faint chatter of voices, Jasper leapt back and straightened his cravat and waistcoat with remarkable spend and aplomb. After she’d quickly fixed her own appearance, Honora frowned at the marquess who did not have so much as a single hair out of place.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” she asked suspiciously. “Kissed a woman in a solarium.”
“In a solarium?” He shook his head. “Not that I can recall. A drawing room, yes. Of course.”
Of course.
“As well as a parlor and a broom closet.” He ticked off his fingers one by one. “A music room, a library, a kitchen–”
“I think I have the idea,” she interrupted.
He grinned wolfishly. “Jealous, Lady Honora?”
Oh, so they were back to Lady Honora, were they?
The nerve.
“Absolutely not,” she lied with a toss of her head as Rebecca, accompanied by her husband and Lady Appleton, glided into the room.
“Honora,” her mother said, clearly surprised to see her. “I did not realize anyone had come down for breakfast yet. Why, it’s hardly ten o’clock. And Lord Slatington.” She paused, her gaze darting to Jasper and then back to her daughter. Honora could all but see the wheels turning in her head. “I…did not expect to find you together.”
“Lady Appleton.” Jasper bowed respectively. “I must say, your hospitality has been second to none. Your staff is impeccable, and I’ve wanted for nothing. Thank you for being such an excellent hostess. My only regret is that I’ve not attended one of your house parties before now.”
“My goodness, Lord Slatington,” Lady Appleton tittered, waving her hand, while Honora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You’re too kind!”
“Not kind,” Jasper said. “Truthful.”
“Well, I am glad to hear you are enjoying yourself. Won’t you eat with us?”
“I would love to. Regretfully, I was just on my way out the door.” Retrieving his gloves from the edge of the table where he’d tossed them before advancing on Honora, he slid on one and then the other. “I wanted to get in a ride before our first activity of the day. A tour of the grounds by sleigh, if memory serves?”
Lady Appleton’s eyes lit up. “You read the itinerary!”
“Memorized it,” said Jasper with a smile so utterly beguiling that even Honora found herself swayed.
Then she gave herself a mental shake. She was not, under any circumstances, going to allow herself to be charmed by the Marquess of Slatington! Her plan was to pretend to be falling in love with him. Not to actually fall in love with him. Something she’d do well to remember the next time she was tempted with another kiss.
“Honora?” Lady Appleton turned to her daughter after Jasper had quit the room. “Won’t you dine with us? I’d very much like to know what you and Lord Slatington were discussing when we arrived.”
“Oh, that.” Honora’s shoulders rose and fell in a negligent shrug. “Nothing more than the weather. I actually had breakfast with Emily. She left only a minute or two ago. Lord Slatington and I barely had time to exchange pleasantries before you arrived.” Honora wanted her mother to believe she had an interest in Jasper, but she didn’t want her to think anything improper had occurred.
Impropriety led to rumors, and rumors led to hasty proposals and quick weddings. Which was most definitely the last thing in the world she wanted.
A quick wedding. A slow wedding. Any wedding at all, really.
Especially if it involved Jasper.
Yes, she’d enjoyed their kiss. Yes, she – occasionally – found him to be charismatic. And yes, their conversation about his father had revealed a poignant side of him that she’d found immensely appealing. But a handsome scoundrel did not a husband make, and having witnessed what could happen when you followed your heart instead of your head, Honora wasn’t about to repeat Emily’s mistake.
“Lord Slatington is unmarried, you know.” Lady Appleton poured herself some of tea. “Perhaps the next time you find yourselves together, you might discuss more than the weather.”
“You’re right,” Honora nodded.
Lady Appleton nearly dropped her cup. “I am?”
“She is?” Rebecca said, whirling away from the sideboard where she’d been fixing herself a plate of fresh fruit and eggs. “Since when are you keen on making conversation with anyone, let alone an attractive, eligible bachelor?”
Lord Featherstone frowned at his wife. “You find Lord Slatington attractive?”
Rebecca absently patted his arm. “Not as attrac
tive as you, darling.” She narrowed her eyes at Honora. “I was under the impression you did not like the marquess.”
“I am beginning to change my mind. He’s not the arrogant bore I first thought he was.” To Honora’s astonishment, her words rang true. She really didn’t think Jasper was an arrogant bore. At least, not any longer. But if he wasn’t that, then what was he? Besides a man who looked like an angel and kissed like the devil.
“Well I think this is absolutely delightful!” Lady Appleton set down her tea in order to embrace her youngest daughter in a hug that squeezed the air from Honora’s lungs. “My little girl, a marchioness! I can hardly imagine it.”
“If it helps, neither can I,” Rebecca said dryly.
Honora gave her sister a withering glare, then turned her attention to her mother. “Mama,” she said, gently extricating herself from Lady Appleton’s vicelike grip, “need I remind you there is a very large difference between not despising someone and becoming their marchioness.”
Lady Appleton’s face fell. “But I thought–”
“I know precisely what you thought. However, I want you to keep your expectations to a minimum. I do like Lord Slatington, and I believe he likes me as well.” Another surprising truth. “That being said, we hardly know each other. Over the course of the week, I’d like some time to get to know him better, but I won’t be able to do that if you’re constantly intervening.” Honora held her breath as she waited to see if her mother would take the bait.
“You cannot be alone with a gentleman.” Lady Appleton’s mouth pinched in a flat line of disapproval. “Even one with such impeccable character as Lord Slatington.”
“I’m not asking to be alone with him,” Honora said hastily. “I do not want a scandal. I simply want a measure of respectful distance to discover if Lord Slatington is someone I might entertain as a potential suitor.”
“What she means, Mother, is that we shouldn’t be pestering her every five minutes to see if she’s engaged yet.” Wandering over, Rebecca popped a large red strawberry into her mouth and smirked at Honora. “That is what you’re getting at, isn’t it, sister dear?”
“Pester?” Lady Appleton frowned. “I don’t pester. Do I, Lord Featherstone?”
“I am afraid in the interest of self-preservation I must decline to give an answer,” Rebecca’s husband said wisely before he retreated to the back of the room and feigned an acute interest in a painting on the wall.
“You don’t pester,” Honora assured her mother. “But you do have a tendency to…hover.”
Lady Appleton sniffed. “I don’t think I do that, either. However, if this is what you want–”
“It is.”
“–Then I’ll see to it your sisters and I give you the space you require.”
“Thank you.” Honora kissed her cheek. “That’s all I want.”
“I understand, darling. Should I hang up more mistletoe?”
“Mother,” Honora said in exasperation.
“What?” Lady Appleton said defensively. “It’s just mistletoe, Honora. Perfectly harmless.”
“It isn’t just mistletoe, and there’s nothing harmless about it.” If it were up to Honora, she’d throw every last piece of the potent evergreen into a pile and light the pile on fire. “I’m going to look for my skating blades so I have them for tomorrow.”
Slightly thicker than the edge of a knife and made of iron, the twelve-inch blades could be affixed to the bottom of her shoes, allowing her to travel swiftly across the ice. From a young age, Honora had enjoyed skating. It was one of the few physical activities that came naturally to her (her riding seat left much to be desired) and she always looked forward to the first skate of the season which – weather allowing – traditionally fell on the third day of the house party.
Rebecca followed her. “I find it rather odd,” she said as Honora stepped out into the hallway.
“You find what odd?”
“Well, you made it seem as if you and Lord Slatington only had a few seconds to converse between Emily leaving and us arriving.”
“And?” Honora said impatiently.
“And I know Emily came upstairs nearly twenty minutes ago because I passed her on my way down.” Rebecca tapped a thoughtful finger against the tip of her chin. “That means you and Lord Slatington were alone for quite a while, doesn’t it? Far longer than you led Mother to assume.”
“I don’t know.” Honora threw up her hands. “I wasn’t looking at a clock. As I said, nothing happened. We discussed the–”
“Weather. Yes, that’s what you said. Well off you go. I wouldn’t want you to miss skating on account on being unable to find your blades. Oh, and darling?” Rebecca called out sweetly as Honora started to walk away.
Gritting her teeth, she stopped short. “What?”
“Don’t forget to put some powder on those whisker burns.” Her sister winked as Honora’s hand flew to the side of her neck and pressed against the telltale red mark. “You wouldn’t want anyone to suspect you and Lord Slatington of doing anything untoward, would you?”
Grinning, Rebecca ducked back into the solarium and closed the door.
Chapter Nine
Honora managed to avoid Jasper for the rest of the day. Not that she was trying to avoid him. Because that would imply he was important enough to avoid. Which he wasn’t. Important, that is. At least not to her.
Which was exactly what she told herself when she darted into the library instead of passing him in the hall. And ducked behind a chair when he entered the parlor. And ran out the servant’s entrance when he came into the drawing room after dinner, locking herself out in the cold in nothing more than her thin satin shoes and evening gown.
“Honora, what were you doing out there?” Lady Appleton exclaimed when, shivering, Honora tried to slip in unnoticed through the front door.
“N-nothing,” she chattered as she frantically rubbed her arms to warm them. “I-I forgot something.”
Lady Appleton frowned. “Outside? But it’s dark.”
So it was. Honora had hoped everyone would be gathered in the music room where her sisters were preparing to deliver their annual holiday recital, but she hadn’t accounted for her mother doing one last sweep of the house to ensure every guest was where they were supposed to be.
“Has the recital started?” she asked.
“It is about to. Shake out your dress,” Lady Appleton instructed. “You’ve snow on the hem. And come with me.” Taking her daughter by the elbow, she steered Honora into a spacious, candlelit room where everyone had gathered in a half circle of chairs around a pianoforte and harp-lute. “Lord Slatington was kind enough to save you a seat.”
Honora’s gaze fell on the empty chair beside Jasper and she immediately balked. “Oh, I really don’t think–”
“Be quiet,” Lady Appleton whispered in her ear, “and do sit down. Your sisters are about to begin!”
Too late Honora saw Rebecca had taken her place behind the pianoforte, and Anne was standing next to the harp-lute, her fingers trailing lightly across the strings. Emily was between them, hands clasped behind her back as she prepared to sing. Biting down hard on the inside of her cheek, Honora sat down.
An entire day spent avoiding the marquess, and this was where she ended up! Close enough to experience the warmth of his body. Close enough to smell the subtle evergreen of his cologne. Close enough to feel the rigidness of his thigh when his leg brushed against hers.
“Do you mind,” she snapped, whisking her skirts to the side.
“Do you mind,” he replied, canting his head towards the center of the room where Honora’s sisters were halfway through “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen”. “I’m trying to listen.”
Oh! On a silent growl, her hands bunched into fists. Fists she dearly wanted to pummel him with. He really was the rudest, most obnoxious man she’d ever met. She couldn’t believe she had kissed him. Or that she’d thought, even for a flicker of an instant, she might want to do it again.
<
br /> Setting her jaw, Honora glared daggers at the harp-lute as she did her best to ignore Jasper. A task easier said than done, for even though her mind demanded she refute his very existence, her body had an entirely different opinion.
Deep down in the depths of her soul where all of her secret desires resided, she yearned to touch him again. To sink her nails into the nape of his neck. To taste his lips with her lips. To press her soft breasts against his hard chest. She wanted to pick up their kiss right where they’d left it, with nary a pause in between. And she wanted to keep kissing him until the fire he’d ignited within her finally burned to ash.
Maybe then she could stop thinking about him this way. Because this…this compulsive fascination wasn’t what she’d intended when she asked him to feign interest in her. Their attraction was supposed to be fake! But while it might have begun with all the best intentions, there had been nothing fake or feigned about their kiss. Their unbridled passion had been as real as the stars and the moon and the snow gently falling. Snow that was cold until it touched something warm, and then melted into something new.
That was how Honora felt when she was with Jasper. Like something new. But how long would it be until that newness washed away? And what would be left when it was gone?
“Your sister has an exceptional voice,” Jasper noted, leaning in close as the first song ended and the room broke out into loud applause. “Lady Rebecca and Lady Emily are very good as well. The last time I was forced to listen to someone play the harp-lute, I wanted to plug my ears with cotton.”
“My siblings are quite talented,” she agreed. “Everyone always looks forward to their winter recital.”
Jasper slanted her a sideways glance, a half grin teasing one corner of his mouth. “And what, pray tell, is your special talent?”
Honora kept her gaze pinned straight ahead. “Enduring the unwanted attention of insufferable men.”
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