Every Time We Kiss

by Christie Kelley

  He would make certain of that.

  And if that should happen to fail, he could seduce little Mary and make her fall in love with him. It would be an easy and enjoyable task.

  Matthew reined his horse to a slow trot. Mary wasn’t a skilled rider, having lived in town all of her life. She knew how to look good while riding but barely could move beyond a canter.

  “Thank you for slowing down, my lord,” she said with a warm smile.

  “You are welcome.”

  Hearing the gallop of a few horses, he moved slightly off the path to give the faster riders room to get around them. “Move off,” he said to Mary.

  She positioned her horse off the dirt path just as four riders came into view. Jennette, Lady Elizabeth, Lord Selby, and Lord Ancroft raced past them. Each of them nodded and Jennette smiled at his predicament.

  “Where was Lady Selby?” he wondered aloud.

  “Oh, she doesn’t ride well,” Mary replied. “I heard she’d taken a fall when she was young and she didn’t feel she could keep up with us.”

  Matthew was quite sure Lady Selby could have kept up with Mary. The sound of another horse galloping up the hill made Matthew cringe. As the rider reached the crest of the knoll, he slowed his mount.

  “Somerton, nice to see you again,” Matthew said. He glanced over at Mary. Her eyes widened and positively sparkled as she stared at Somerton with her mouth slightly agape. Wonderful, the woman he was supposed to propose to appeared completely captivated by Somerton.

  “Good afternoon, Blackburn.” Somerton looked over at Mary and his lips twitched. “I don’t believe we have met.”

  “Miss Marston, may I introduce Lord Somerton.”

  “G—g—good to meet you, my lord,” she stammered.

  Somerton reached across his horse for her hand. “An absolute pleasure, Miss Marston.”

  “T—thank you, my lord.”

  Dear God, the girl twittered.

  “May I ride with you both?” Somerton requested, staring at Mary like a wolf about to devour a rabbit.

  “Oh yes!” Mary said in an overly excited voice.

  “Wonderful,” Somerton said.

  Wonderful indeed, Matthew thought.

  “Lord Somerton, would you help me with my stirrup. I don’t believe it is adjusted correctly.”

  “It would be my greatest pleasure,” Somerton replied, raising an eyebrow at Mary.

  Mary blushed a blotchy red across her cheeks. “Really?”

  “Why yes, Miss Marston.”

  Matthew clenched his jaw out of frustration. He’d finally discovered a woman who might settle for him and his reputation only to find she was far more attracted to Somerton.

  Somerton jumped down, handed his reins to Matthew, and proceeded to adjust Mary’s stirrup. Somerton checked the length by reaching up to her calf and extending her leg. Mary’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped. Matthew clutched the reins of his own horse, trying to gain control of his anger.

  After Somerton finished the modification, they rode down the path toward the old Tudor dower house.

  “Oh my,” Mary whispered. “How could the Astons let that place fall to such ruin?”

  “It really isn’t all that dreadful,” he replied.

  Matthew examined the house and wondered at her comment. While a little overgrown with brushes, the structure looked sound, the roof appeared to be holding together. In fact, the little house seemed to be in better shape than his estate in Lancashire.

  She would hate his estate. Cobwebs adorned most of the rooms, the roof leaked, and the furniture was all over a hundred years old and covered in dust. How would she survive the first couple of years of marriage?

  The only way would be to stay in the London house and visit the estates as needed for short periods of time. Then, as the money increased, she could refurbish the house. He really wasn’t asking for that much, was he?

  All he wanted was a woman who could be a helpmate. A woman who would want to assist him in fixing this mess. Someone to build a future with, have children with, someone to love. He obviously wanted too much.

  The image of sitting in the study with Jennette flashed through his mind. Would she have the fortitude for the task in front of him? She had been raised as a proper young lady of the ton. She would likely be even more put out by the condition of his estates.

  “Shall we continue?” Somerton asked. “Perhaps we could catch up with the Selbys.”

  Matthew shook his head. “Mary isn’t a very skilled rider.”

  “Lord Blackburn,” Mary said with shock. “You shouldn’t speak of me in such a manner.”

  “I wouldn’t wish for you to get hurt,” he replied calmly.

  Her face softened as she smiled shyly at Somerton. “I could try a gallop if that is what Lord Somerton would like.”

  Somerton smiled at her. “I should hate myself if something happened to you because of me.”

  Her lips pouted slightly. “Of course.”

  Matthew gently nudged his gelding. “Come along.”

  The other two followed behind as anger surged within him. He’d hoped to get a few moments alone with Mary and attempt to kiss her. Now, with Somerton in tow, the opportunity appeared lost. And for some reason, Matthew was sure Somerton had decided to ride with them on purpose.

  Jennette waited patiently while her maid finished pinning her hair into a lovely coiffure. “I believe I’ll wear the pearls tonight, Molly. Could you lace a strand or two into my hair?”

  “Of course, miss. You look beautiful when we do. The contrast between your black hair and the white pearls is stunning.”

  Her mother watched from her position on the bed. “Jennette, do you think your bodice is a bit too revealing?”

  Jennette glanced into the mirror and frowned. Her stays had brought her small breasts together for a slight line of cleavage. Not something she normally had.

  “No, I think it’s perfect.”

  Her mother shook her head and smiled. “Are you trying to entice someone?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Hmm,” Mother said softly.

  “Mother,” Jennette warned. “I am not interested in any man. I leave for Florence in two weeks.”

  “So you keep insisting.”

  She leveled an ominous look at her mother. Jennette was in no mood to argue with her tonight. Watching Matthew ride with Mary had taken away her pleasant mood today. She had the urge to leave the party completely and return home, perhaps even to Talbot Abbey. There she could lock herself in the old nursery and paint until she had eliminated all her frustrations.

  “All done, miss,” Molly stated, then moved away from her to pick up the gowns Jennette had discarded earlier.

  “Thank you, Molly.”

  Her mother shook her head as she watched Molly picking up three rejected gowns. “Where did you get this propensity for indecision? Your father was never like that and neither am I.”

  Jennette almost laughed. Her mother was almost as bad as Jennette when it came to making a decision on fashion. “You know I’m only like this when it comes to what I should wear.”

  “Of course,” her mother replied.

  “I believe we should make our way downstairs before they start dinner without us.”

  Jennette picked up her reticule and walked to the door. She and her mother strolled down the hallway to the marble steps. As they walked down the stairs, the butler opened the front door and a couple entered. Jennette had only met Mrs. Marston once, but with her sturdy frame and flaming red hair, she was difficult to forget.

  “Dinner is at eight,” the butler told the couple.

  “That barely gives us enough time to freshen up,” Mrs. Marston complained.

  “I am sorry, ma’am. Lady Aston insists that dinner always be held at eight.”

  Jennette and her mother smiled as they reached the bottom riser.

  “Lady Selby and Lady Jennette!” Mrs. Marston exclaimed. “How lovely to see you.”


  “And you, Mrs. Marston,” her mother said. “You had best hurry or you shall miss dinner.”

  “Oh yes!”

  The couple hurried to follow the footman to their room. Jennette and her mother continued on to the large salon where everyone congregated before dinner. A footman passed by with glasses of sherry for the guests. Her mother reached for two glasses then handed one to Jennette.

  “Only three more excruciating days,” her mother whispered.

  Jennette couldn’t agree more. Three more days and then they would return to London until it was time for her to leave. Hopefully by then Matthew would announce his betrothal to Mary, thus allowing Jennette to leave in peace. No more guilt about what she’d done to him.

  Only a lifetime to relive what she had done to John. But once in Florence, she could make a new life for herself. Return to painting and take in the wonderful museums. Perhaps if she found the right man, she might take a lover and maybe, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was Matthew making love to her.

  She blinked to keep the tears at bay. This attraction to him was absurd. Glancing over, she noticed Matthew lean in closer to hear something Mary said to him. His lips tilted upward as if whatever she’d said held some humor.

  “Another sherry?”

  Jennette turned with a smirk toward Somerton. He lifted an eyebrow at her in question.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she replied and then took the offered sherry.

  “What has you with that far-off gaze in your eyes?”

  She watched as his attention swung to Matthew and Mary and then back to her. Somerton had a bad habit of seeing far too much. “Absolutely nothing,” she replied.

  “You are a terrible liar.” He sipped his sherry. “Besides, I wouldn’t be too distressed.”

  “I am not,” she lied again. Well, she didn’t want to feel any misery at their interest in each other.

  “It won’t end well for them,” he added in a whispered tone.

  “What? It must,” she insisted. “They must marry.”

  “Trust me, Blackburn won’t marry that chit.” He drained his sherry then deserted her.

  Jennette looked around but Somerton had slipped into the crowd by the doorway. What exactly did he mean by his prophecy? She’d known him long enough to understand he had connections and knew secrets most didn’t. Could he possibly have come into some information regarding Mary and Matthew? It made no sense. Somerton dealt with spies and criminals, not two people who might wish to marry.

  Before Jennette could reason anything sensible on the topic, Lady Aston announced the time had come to move to the dining room. Jennette scanned the room looking for someone to escort her, hoping she’d find Somerton again.

  “Looking for me?”

  Hearing a warmly familiar voice, she turned to Nicholas. “Are you late for everything?” she asked with a laugh.

  “It appears I am, lately.” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  Happy to have a man near her who didn’t expect anything but a smile from her, she answered, “We shall.”

  He smiled down at her in a knowing way. “He’s not a bad man, Jennette.”

  “Who?” She followed his gaze to Matthew.

  “I believe you know exactly to whom I am referring.”

  “Why do you care what I think of him?”

  “Because I know you need some advice and Banning isn’t about to tell you what you need to hear. Your brother believes every bad thing he has heard about the man. I happen to know differently.”

  Jennette’s hand shook as they walked toward the dining room. Instinctively, her gaze went to Matthew, who shot her an irritated look. “What exactly do you know?”

  “I know he’s been misjudged by the majority of the members of the ton. You have even verified what happened was an accident. And the other incident was nothing more than a young man’s folly.”

  “What do you mean?” She raked her memory for some other issue Matthew might have had years ago. Nothing came to mind. So whatever happened must have been minor.

  “It was a long time ago and truly nothing.”

  “Is that all you know about him?” she whispered softly.

  “It’s enough for me.”

  “But not my brother?”

  Nicholas laughed. “Do you believe that would make Banning believe Blackburn is a good man? We both know your brother would find fault with any man you chose.”

  Jennette nodded. Her brother was as hard-headed as she was, if not worse.

  “I have no plans to marry the man if that is your intention when you tout his good points,” she commented flatly.

  “Of course not. You shall be leaving for Florence in just a short time.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he whispered in her ear.

  Damn him for knowing her so well. “Neither.”

  “Of course,” he said, sounding completely unconvinced.

  Mr. and Mrs. Marston entered the salon just as she and Nicholas reached the threshold. Mrs. Marston’s eyes widened as she walked in the room. Her gasp made Jennette halt her stride. Dread filled her as she glanced back to see the Marstons staring at Matthew.

  “Dear God, it’s true,” Mrs. Marston whispered.

  “Get your bloody hands off my daughter,” Mr. Marston shouted.

  Chapter 13

  Matthew stood rooted to the spot. Mary squeezed his arm, whether in fear or comfort, he didn’t know. He should have known everything was proceeding too well with her.

  “Did you not hear me?” the man shouted again.

  Mary slowly slid her arm out of his and took a step away. Her pallid face confirmed his initial thought—Mr. and Mrs. Marston had arrived.

  “I meant no dishonor, sir,” Matthew replied.

  “No dishonor?” Mrs. Marston said. “Did you actually think I would let a man like you near my daughter?”

  Matthew quickly looked around the room and noticed nearly half the party was still in the salon, watching the sordid scene unfold.

  “A man like me?” he asked in a quiet tone.

  “A murdering blackguard!” she yelled.

  Anger forced his hands into fists. He looked past the Marstons to see Jennette still clinging to the arm of the marquess. Her eyes were huge and full of sympathy. And the last thing he wanted from her was pity.

  “Mary, get away from him,” Mrs. Marston said. “This man will never touch you again.”

  “But Mother, he is not—”

  “Do not disobey me,” Mrs. Marston interrupted.

  “Yes, Mother.” Mary looked back at him and sent him a watery smile.

  “As for you,” Mrs. Marston took a step forward. “How dare you show your face at a party for decent people? No one who knows what you did will ever let you back in Society. And my daughter won’t be a pawn to help you regain your position.”

  “And you shall never get a farthing out of me,” Mr. Marston added.

  Matthew inhaled deeply. One thing he’d learned after five years was to walk away. “As you wish,” he said with a nod.

  “Murderer,” Mrs. Marston whispered loud enough for half the room to hear.

  Several loud gasps circulated the room. Matthew walked toward the door where Jennette stood with her mouth agape.

  “Don’t think everyone in the room doesn’t see the look you’re giving her,” Mrs. Marston’s acid voice sounded again. “To this day I will never understand how her reputation remained intact. In my opinion you ruined her and you will not do that to my daughter.”

  Matthew blew out a loud breath and counted to ten.

  “And you,” Mrs. Marston turned her attention to Jennette. “How could your mother allow you in the same room as this murderer? He killed your betrothed and almost ruined your name in the process. You’re no better than he is to allow this outrage!”

  Matthew turned to Mrs. Marston with an icy fixed stare. “Malign my name all you wish,” he took a menacing step t
oward her, “but don’t ever spread your venom toward Lady Jennette.”

  Mrs. Marston’s lips tilted upward in a cynical smile. “So the gossips were right about you loving her.”

  God, he hated that rumor. Especially when it was the absolute truth. No matter how he tried to deny it, he’d loved Jennette even then.

  He narrowed his eyes and blasted Mrs. Marston with another glare until her mouth dropped and she took a step backward into her husband’s chest. After sufficiently silencing her, he turned and strode from the room, his heart pounding against his chest in futile anger. He was finished with this party and all others.

  Ignoring the open stares and whispers, he walked down the hall. The burning, hostile looks only served to increase his anger and frustration. He should have known this mad idea of hers would never work. No one would ever forget what he’d done.

  Only he hadn’t done anything.

  Guilt etched through his mind. He’d spoken to her of his attraction that very morning. He had even kissed her for those brief few seconds. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?

  It didn’t matter. She’d grabbed the sword out of his hand after he’d warned her not to. She had wanted to prove to him that she could do it.

  The time had come to be finished with this self-castigating. He was through with the guilt. All he’d done was tell her how he felt that morning. Now he would marry her and never think of that day again.

  It was her fault.

  And she would be the one to pay for her actions. He was finished with her foolishness. Although she still had two weeks left to find him a wife, he knew she would never be able to succeed especially once this debacle traveled through the gossips. It was time to compromise her publicly and finish this farce.

  The hell with the consequences. Her brother wouldn’t call him out. Selby would insist on a quick marriage to silence the gossips. And that was exactly what she was about to get.

  After slamming the door to his room, he pulled out his valise. He had two weeks to get her compromised and the idea of staying in this damned house for one more instant held no appeal. Jennette would be back in town in a few days when the party ended. Then he would do what had to be done.