And then there is the unexpected first kiss. Why, it hasn’t so much as crossed your mind that you and he would kiss. One moment, you are thinking nothing of any consequence and the next his lips are pressed to yours and you realize with the suddenness of a storm in the summer that this is indeed what you have longed for somewhere deep in your soul. What you never even knew you wanted. Abruptly everything between you has changed and will never again be the same. And the possibilities, well, the possibilities take your breath away.
But when the marquis’s lips claimed mine it was not at all unexpected. We had danced around this moment for some time and now that it was upon us, it was merely the beginning of what would ultimately be one of the most …
from The Perfect Mistress,
the Memoirs of Lady Hermione Middlebury
Chapter Ten
“She is quite in her element, isn’t she?” Julia’s heart unexpectedly skipped a beat at the familiar voice behind her.
She smiled but did not turn around, her gaze lingering on Portia. “I assume you’re speaking of Lady Redwell.”
Harrison chuckled. “She’s like a child in a candy shop.”
Portia was indeed having a grand time. They’d only arrived within the past quarter hour and Julia had scarcely done more than chat with their hostess but already Portia had been engaged in one flirtatious conversation after the other. With Mr. Ellsworth of course, who was surrounded by other admirers, as well as with one of the poets who had attended Veronica’s dinner.
“Her late husband was a literary sort as I understand it although I don’t think he was terribly successful. She’s quite impressed by literary fame.”
“So it would appear.” He paused. “Are you?”
“To a certain extent I suppose. I daresay I don’t know anyone who isn’t.” She turned to face him. “It must be incredibly difficult to craft a story or poetry so that it captures a reader’s attention. I am most admiring of anyone who can do that well. As for the fame that accompanies success …” She shrugged. “That in itself is not especially impressive to me.”
The faintest hint of relief shone in his eyes although she might have been mistaken. He nodded toward Portia and Mr. Ellsworth’s other admirers. “Then you are the exception.”
“Perhaps.” She studied him for a moment. “You have the oddest habit of appearing where I least expect you. I had the distinct impression literary evenings were not to your liking.”
“I am trying to broaden my horizons,” he said. “After our discussion the other evening about poetry, I thought I was being somewhat narrow-minded and—”
“Stubborn?”
“Possibly.” He paused. “I have been known to be stubborn on occasion.”
She gasped in mock surprise. “You? Stubborn? Imagine my surprise.”
“I would think you of all people would recognize stubborn.”
She laughed. “Perhaps I would.”
“And, as I am trying to improve relations between myself and my late brother’s wife, I thought it would be a nice gesture on my part to escort Veronica here tonight.”
“Did you?” Her brow rose. “I have never known Veronica to require an escort before. Veronica alone among the ladies of my acquaintance never hesitates to go wherever she wishes unaccompanied.”
“Well”—he shook his head in a mournful manner—“it was not easy to convince her.”
“And you did so because you wish to broaden your literary horizons?”
“Absolutely.” He paused. “And I knew you would be here.”
“How on earth did you know that?”
He chuckled. “A gentleman never reveals all of his secrets.”
Veronica must have mentioned this evening to him. It was all Portia could talk about yesterday when the three women had met briefly for tea at Fenwick’s. Portia had been in something of a tizzy at the very thought of being again in Mr. Ellsworth’s illustrious literary presence; Veronica was late, as usual, for an appointment with her dressmaker; and Julia hadn’t felt at all her usual self but rather restless and preoccupied. She couldn’t get Harrison’s comments out of her head. That nonsense about gentlemen thinking she was like Hermione. Surely no honorable gentleman would think anything of the sort. And he had called her compelling and irresistible. Even William had never called her anything of the kind but had rather praised her as sensible and practical. Yes, her mirror told her she was pretty if a little too somber-looking and tired around her eyes. But she’d passed her twenty-seventh birthday and was a widow with no family to speak of and no money. Scarcely what anyone would call compelling or irresistible. Anyone but Harrison apparently. And the man did seem to have the strangest urge to protect her, which was altogether too, well, nice. He was as confusing as he was annoying. Yet she wasn’t at all annoyed to see him now but oddly pleased.
“You don’t strike me as a man who has secrets, my lord.”
“That’s because I hide them well.”
“Which is the very definition of secret,” she said wryly.
“Oh, I am a man of many secrets, Julia.” He leaned close and lowered his voice confidentially. “I am most mysterious.”
She stared at him for a moment then caught the gleam of amusement in his eyes and laughed. “You are not at all mysterious.”
His eyes widened in disappointment. “Not even a little?”
“I am sorry.” She shook her head. “No.”
“Hmph. I shall have to work on that.” His brows drew together. “But I am wearing you down. Not only am I now the most annoying man you’ve ever met but you must admit, every time we meet, you find me more charming than the time before.”
She started to protest then smiled. “Yes, Harrison, I believe I do.”
“How … wonderful.” Genuine pleasure curved his lips and his gaze locked with hers. His dark blue eyes, the sky at midnight, simmered with something unknown. For the briefest of moments she couldn’t seem to breathe. “Julia—”
“Lady Winterset.” Mr. Ellsworth abruptly appeared at her side. His assessing gaze slipped from her to Harrison and back. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I am delighted that you decided to join us.”
The author obviously thought grabbing her hand at every opportunity was gallant and dashing but she found it both presumptuous and irritating. She cast him a polite smile and pulled her hand from his. His brow rose slightly and his smile was a bit too knowing. Most irritating. “I am quite looking forward to the evening, Mr. Ellsworth. I understand you will be reading for us later.”
“I intend to read something from my newest book,” he said smoothly. “It has only been available for a few weeks but perhaps you’ve already read it?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”
“Then I shall make sure you have a copy. Personally signed, of course.” He glanced at Harrison. “Good evening, my lord.”
Harrison nodded coolly. “Good evening.”
“Mr. Ellsworth has made me an interesting offer for the memoirs,” she said.
Harrison raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Yes, my lord.” The author nodded. “I believe Lady Middlebury’s words combined with my own fictional retelling of her adventures would be a rousing success.”
“It’s a most intriguing idea,” Julia said with a smile, studying Harrison closely.
Harrison frowned in a forbidding manner. “And I would prefer the memoirs not be published in any manner whatsoever.”
“Obviously we are of two minds on the matter.” Mr. Ellsworth shrugged. “It is fortunate then that the disposition of the memoirs and their literary fate is in the capable and quite lovely hands of Lady Winterset.” He flashed her an altogether too intimate smile.
Harrison’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I am certain she will make the appropriate decision.” He paused. “It does strike me however that we have been entirely too free in our discussions of Lady Middlebury’s work.”
“Too free?” She laughed. “Goodness, my lord
, it’s not as if we will be reading selected portions tonight.”
“Or choosing parts and acting it aloud,” Ellsworth said in an overly innocent manner.
Julia flashed him a quick look. If she didn’t know better she’d think the author was deliberately baiting Harrison.
“Free in our discussions, Lady Winterset.” His gaze hardened. “I would hate to have anyone overhear. It might provoke talk, rumor, gossip. Even scandal.”
“Scandal sells books,” Ellsworth murmured.
“Perhaps, but there will be considerable scandal surrounding this book should it be published in any manner whatsoever.” He cast Julia a warning look. “Some of which will inevitably fall on you.”
“I am aware of that.” Indeed, she’d known from the moment she’d realized she had no other means of financial salvation but to sell the memoirs that there would be some scandal attached to Lady Middlebury’s great-granddaughter. She was not pleased at the idea but it was unavoidable.
“Yet another reason not to expose them to the public at all,” Harrison said.
“Nonsense.” Ellsworth scoffed. “I daresay whatever scandal falls on Lady Winterset will be minimal. And should she accept my proposal, I shall do my very best to see to it her name is kept out of it.” He cast her an apologetic smile. “As much as possible of course.”
“Of course.” She didn’t for a moment think Ellsworth would live up to that particular promise. The more scandal, past and present, surrounding the book, the better it would sell. Besides, there was something about Ellsworth that was not at all trustworthy. Perhaps it was his self-serving nature. This was a man who would throw her to the wolves of gossip or anything else without hesitation if it would further his position.
“I would strongly suggest,” Harrison began, “that until Lady Winterset makes her decision, any further discussion be held in private. Away from the hearing of anyone who might be inclined to gossip or speculate about exactly what is included in Lady Middlebury’s memoirs.”
Ellsworth frowned. “I don’t think—”
“Thank you, my lord,” Julia said quickly. She wasn’t at all pleased with Harrison telling her what to do, but he had an excellent point. “I think that’s both wise and prudent.”
Harrison aimed a smug smile at Ellsworth whose eyes narrowed slightly.
“If you will excuse me, Lady Winterset,” the author said smoothly, “there are new arrivals I should greet.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Perhaps we can speak more in private later.”
She smiled in a noncommittal manner. “Perhaps.”
“I shall look forward to it.” He looked as if he were about to take her hand again but thought better of it. “My lord.” Ellsworth nodded, then turned to join another group of guests who were obviously more pleased to have his company than Harrison.
She studied the earl for a moment. Harrison watched the author with an odd gleam in his eye. “You don’t like him, do you?”
He pulled his gaze from Ellsworth. “It’s not a question of like or dislike. He is an excellent writer.”
“I’m not talking about the author, I’m talking about the man.”
“I would wager the man leaves a lot to be desired,” he said casually. “You are aware of his reputation?”
“He is a well-known literary figure, Harrison.” She cast him an overly innocent smile as if she had no idea that he was speaking of the man’s amorous reputation. “He is highly regarded in the literary world.”
“Julia.” His brows pulled together. “I don’t think—”
“Here you are.” Veronica stepped up beside them. “And Harrison as well. Are you having a nice time?”
“Quite.” His tone was clipped. “We were just discussing Mr. Ellsworth.”
“Interesting man.” Veronica’s gaze flicked to the author. “And most charming.”
Harrison snorted and Julia bit back a smile.
“You look lovely tonight, Julia.” Her friend studied her for a moment.
Julia had chosen to wear what was very nearly her best dress. She had bought it right before William’s death but had never had the opportunity to wear it. It was the height of fashion when purchased and she was grateful fashions hadn’t changed so much as to prevent her from wearing it now. She was well aware that the deep emerald silk emphasized the green of her eyes. Her grandmother’s pendant provided the perfect complement.
“Doesn’t she look lovely, Harrison?”
“Exquisite.” His gaze met Julia’s and her heart skipped a beat.
Veronica leaned forward to get a closer look at her pendant. “That is exquisite as well.”
Julia laughed. “It would be if it were real.”
“Then it is an excellent copy.” She straightened and glanced at Harrison. “Now, if you will forgive us, I have something of importance I must discuss with Julia.” Before he could protest, Veronica took her elbow and steered her across the room toward the terrace doors.
“Where are we going?”
“Where we can speak in private.” They stepped out onto the terrace. There was a chill in the air but it was not especially unpleasant after the stuffiness in the salon. Veronica glanced around but the terrace was empty. “This will do.”
“Whatever is the matter?”
“Nothing really.” She drew a deep breath. “I simply needed a breath of fresh air and feared coming out here alone. I have no desire for anyone with thoughts of romantic interludes to trap me in an unwanted liaison.”
Julia widened her eyes. “What?”
“One of those poets, a less than successful one I might add, has been flirting outrageously ever since we arrived.” She rolled her gaze toward the sky. “I’m not certain if he’s looking for a patron or an affair or, God help us, a wife.”
Julia choked back a laugh. “I’ve never known you not to be able to handle unwanted attentions before.”
“I am trying to be on my best behavior,” she said in a haughty manner. “And speaking of best behavior, have you noticed Portia’s?”
Julia nodded. “It’s rather hard to miss.”
“Whatever has come over her? Not that it isn’t pleasant to see her be less sedate than usual,” Veronica added. “Still it’s very odd. Has she said anything to you?”
“Nothing, but then I haven’t asked.” Julia thought for a moment. “Perhaps all those introductions to eligible men her family has orchestrated has pushed her into some sort of flirtatious frenzy.”
“I have always said it’s those who are least willing to bend who will ultimately snap.” Veronica shook her head. “We should keep an eye on her. I should hate to see her fall in love with some unscrupulous writer who is interested only in her money.”
“You’re right, although I can’t imagine she would be quite that foolish. She does have a practical side and alone among us is the most concerned with propriety.”
Veronica arched a delicate brow. “Least willing to bend, remember?”
“Of course.” Julia eyed the other woman curiously. “I must say it’s not like you to be so concerned.”
“Rubbish. I am always concerned about my friends.” Veronica paused. “Which reminds me. Harrison was most insistent on escorting me tonight because he knew you would be here.”
“He mentioned that.”
“Do you know why?”
“I assume to continue his pursuit of the memoirs.”
Veronica shook her head. “I think there’s more to it than that.”
“What more could there possibly be?”
“I think …” Veronica chose her words with care. “I think he likes you.”
“Of course he likes me.” Julia scoffed. “And I like him. We have agreed to be friends and thus far I think it’s going very well.”
“He wants to be your friend?” Disbelief sounded in Veronica’s voice.
“Yes.”
“And you wish to be his friend as well?”
“One can always use another friend.”
Veronica stared then laughed. “Good Lord, he’s a man. A very stuffy, very proper man but a man nonetheless. He wants more than friendship.”
“Nonsense.” Julia waved off the comment.
“Trust me, Julia. I have had experience in such things. I am the friendliest person I know, and every man who has ever alleged to want nothing more than friendship from me has ultimately desired something substantially less platonic.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re not at all friendly. In fact, you are often something of a snob.”
“I am not.” Veronica huffed. “But I am not the topic, you are. Heed my words, Julia.”
“Even if they are the most ridiculous words you have ever uttered?” She dismissed the fact that Veronica had always been most perceptive about people.
“They’re not at all ridiculous.” She shook her head. “There’s something vaguely possessive in the way he looks at you. As if you are an undiscovered land and he has planted his flag.”
Julia gasped. “Veronica!”
She shrugged. “I thought it was an appropriate analogy.”
Certainly Julia had noted the way Harrison had glared at Ellsworth but that was no doubt due to their competition for the memoirs and not out of any desire for her. And, in spite of his denial, she was certain Benjamin’s departure had been Harrison’s doing. Which again might be attributed to Harrison’s wanting to stop publication of the memoirs. Still, if Veronica was right, wasn’t it possible that he was, well, jealous? “Why on earth would you think something so absurd?”
“Julia, darling, I have known this man for many years. I have never seen him express anywhere near the interest in anyone that I have seen him show for you. He asks endless questions. Every time I see him the subject is always you and he insists on being wherever you might be. Surely you’ve noticed.”
The Perfect Mistress Page 16