Every Time We Kiss

by Christie Kelley

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’d be more than a willing teacher.”

  Dear Lord, of all the men in the ton to make such a proposal, Huntley was the last man she’d choose. “Huntley, your proposition is most unwelcome.”

  “That didn’t stop your sister-in-law,” he said with a leer.

  Some people just wouldn’t let Avis’s debacle rest. “Well, I am not Avis.”

  “True, but you must be curious about what happens between a man and a woman.”

  “Actually, I am not. I am a spinster and prefer to stay that way.” How blunt did she have to be?

  Huntley looked away but not before she noticed the frustration lining his face. His sudden, fervent attention seemed odd to her. He’d never appeared interested in her in any manner. She wondered if his newfound interest meant he was having financial difficulties. Her fortune never seemed to bring out the best in men.

  “Very well, then, Lady Jennette. But remember, if your curiosity ever gets the better of you, know that I’m here for you.”

  “I shall indeed.” She glanced around, thankful that no one save Matthew took any notice of Huntley’s conversation. Luckily, Matthew sat too far away to hear any of their talk.

  “Huntley?” Banning took the seat Huntley had just vacated.

  She fired him a furious glance. “Never.”

  “Good thing. So I heard that Somerton and Blackburn saved you from another escapade today.” Banning leaned back in his chair until it almost tilted.

  “It was nothing,” she said, her gaze returning to Matthew’s place across the room.

  “I heard that also.” Banning paused for a moment. “And yet, I can’t help thinking there is far more to this adventure than anyone is saying.”

  “And as usual, you are attempting to make this little incident into something it’s not.”

  Banning clenched his jaw. “When either of those scoundrels is involved, something bad is bound to happen. And when both are involved there is trouble.”

  Jennette laughed softly. “I thought you and Somerton had become friends.”

  “Trust me, Somerton has no friends. And Blackburn deserves none, especially you.”

  “I am not his friend.” Just his lover…and never anything more.

  “But it doesn’t explain why you are continually gazing at him,” Banning said.

  “I am not,” she complained, and instantly turned her head toward her brother.

  “You just were until I brought it to your attention.” He brought his chair upright. “Jen—”

  “Please don’t try to tell me what a horrible man he is, Banning.”

  “I wasn’t about to. I wanted you to know that the only reason he would want you is for your money.”

  “I know,” she muttered softly. Even if he wasn’t a gambler, without her fortune he would never pursue her.

  She closed her eyes against the shot of pain that pierced her heart.

  Chapter 19

  After another excruciating dinner, Jennette walked to the salon for cards with the other women. The men were enjoying their brandies and speaking of politics while the women congregated for gossip.

  “Lady Jennette, I have a note for you.”

  Jennette turned to the maid who had her hand outstretched. She retrieved the note and thanked the maid. Opening the missive, she frowned.

  It is imperative that you meet me in Aston’s study at 10.

  No one had signed the note, but the handwriting didn’t appear to be Matthew’s or anyone else she knew. The slanted, flowing handwriting looked feminine. Lady Aston, perhaps. The lady had gone quite pale when she discovered her husband’s infidelity. Maybe she wanted to ask her more questions.

  She walked into the salon and scanned the room. Lady Aston was indeed missing and it was almost ten now. With a shrug, she strolled down the hall to the study. Two orange trees occupied the space by the windows and filled the smaller room with a sweet scent. She pulled an orange blossom off a tree and inhaled the delicious aroma.

  “You came.”

  Jennette whirled around at the sound of Huntley’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I sent you that note.”

  “Oh. Then what is so important that you had to speak with me now?”

  “Lady Jennette, after hearing what happened to you today, I haven’t been able to get the image of you off my mind.” He took a step closer. “All alone in that room, hearing Aston and that maid rutting like animals. I can only imagine what it must have been like to listen to them.”

  The man was a complete and utter pig. “What does that have to do with me?”

  He stepped even closer. She had no place to go but into the orange tree.

  “Did hearing them excite you?”

  Jennette glanced around trying to find a way around him. But he now stood directly in front of her. With a plant and windows behind her, there appeared to be no place to go.

  “Did you get damp thinking about what they were doing? Aston filling that servant with his hard cock. Did you touch yourself? Bring your finger deep inside you? Or rub that little nub of yours? Did you come?”

  “Don’t be vulgar, Huntley.”

  He inched closer until his chest was all but against her. “I want to know how you taste. My cock wants to be deep inside you, riding you, breaking through that virginal barrier.”

  Her heart pounded. A bead of sweat rolled down her back. Knowing she couldn’t wait any longer, she raced past him. She had caught him off guard. With only two steps left to the door, he yanked her arm back toward him.

  “You are going nowhere.” His hot breath smelled of old brandy and stale cigars.

  “Don’t do this, Huntley,” she pleaded.

  “I have no choice. I want something and the only way to get it is by fucking you.”

  “Money,” she panted. “I shall pay you. Whatever you want.”

  His wet lips touched her neck. “I don’t want your money.”

  If he didn’t want her money, what could he possibly want from her? Most men desired her fortune.

  “I’m not an innocent,” she admitted, hoping that would stop him.

  “Even better. No virginal tears, just pleasure for both of us.”

  He clasped her hands and brought them behind her back. His lips approached hers and fear terrorized her. She couldn’t let him do this to her. As she opened her mouth to scream, his mouth battered her lips. His tongue chafed at hers. She struggled against his grip but that only seemed to excite him more.

  Huntley ground her hips against his erection. Feeling his hardness brought on full panic. She had to get herself under control. There had to be a way out of this situation. Remembering what Banning had taught her, she brought her knee up between his legs as hard as she could.

  Freedom came in an instant.

  “You bitch,” he screamed and fell to the floor.

  The door opened and Jennette looked over to see Matthew, Somerton, and, oh God, Banning.

  “What the bloody hell is going on here?” Banning said.

  Somerton quickly shut the door and backed himself against it.

  “Jennette,” Matthew whispered.

  “Matthew.” She ran to him, desperate to be in the warm comfort of his strong arms.

  He brought her against his hard chest. She barely heard the pounding of his heart in her ear over the loud groans of Huntley.

  “Did he…?”

  “No,” she answered into his jacket.

  “Well done, Lady Jennette. Looks like you took care of the cur,” Somerton commented.

  Jennette glanced back to see Banning drag Huntley to his feet.

  “What the hell did you do to my sister?” he shouted.

  “Selby, keep your voice down or you’ll have the entire party at the door,” Somerton said harshly.

  Her brother pushed Huntley against the wall, keeping a choking hold over him.

  “I had to,” Huntley whimpered.

  “D
id you think I would accept a man like you for my sister’s husband?”

  As she listened to the interrogation, Matthew caressed her hair, comforting her, making her feel safer than she ever had. But the burning question needed an answer. She turned away from Matthew’s comfort and faced Huntley.

  “Why did you attempt to do this, Huntley?” she demanded. “I deserve an answer.”

  Huntley glanced away from her until Banning pried his chin forward to look her in the eye.

  Matthew had had enough of this foolishness. He strode toward Huntley, shoved Selby away, and grabbed Huntley’s cravat, tightening it until his eyes bulged.

  “Answer the lady’s question.”

  “V—Vanessa,” he mumbled so quietly only Matthew heard him.

  “What did you say?” Matthew’s world spun around him.

  “Vanessa Fulbright.”

  Matthew released his grip on Huntley’s cravat. “Get him out of here, Somerton.”

  Somerton only smirked. “My pleasure.”

  “Wait,” Selby started. “He needs to give me the name of his second.”

  “No,” Jennette said coldly. “No one is going to duel over me.”

  Selby turned toward his sister until they were both glaring at each other with their arms folded over their chests. If there was any humor in this situation, it would have been the comical, identical expressions of Selby and Jennette. Only there was nothing remotely humorous here.

  Matthew dropped to the nearest chair as brother and sister battled it out. If anyone should call Huntley out, it was he. But he had no right to do so because he hadn’t even proposed to her.

  “Jen, your honor has been dealt a blow. It is my job as your brother to see that honor restored.”

  “Seems to me,” Somerton commented from the doorway, “that she restored her own honor by un-manning him.”

  “Exactly,” Jennette agreed.

  Somerton tugged on Selby’s arm. “Let this go. I really don’t want to be your second twice in one year. I shall handle Huntley.”

  “Very well,” Selby said. “Take care of him.”

  Somerton leveled Huntley a wild smile. “I haven’t killed a man in such a long time,” he drawled.

  “No,” Jennette said, looking horrified by his words.

  “No,” Selby agreed.

  “And what do you say, Blackburn?” Somerton asked softly.

  “He has no say in this matter,” Selby answered, glaring at Matthew.

  “Kill him, Somerton,” Matthew replied, staring at Selby’s icy blue eyes. “Just make certain it is a long, slow, and excruciatingly painful death.”

  “Matthew!” Jennette exclaimed. “No one is going to die over what happened here.”

  “Oh, very well,” Somerton said with a sigh. He dragged Huntley toward the door, stopping in front of Jennette. “Anything you might want to say, you stupid fool?”

  “I apologize from the bottom of my heart,” Huntley mumbled to Jennette.

  “Accepted,” she said.

  “Jennette, let’s go,” Selby said, walking to the door.

  “No. I need to speak with Lord Blackburn about an important matter.”

  Selby shook his head. “Be quick.”

  “Alone, Ban.”

  “Never.”

  Somerton pulled Selby. “Leave them be, Selby. She’s made her choice whether you like it or not.”

  Selby glared back at Matthew, then at Jennette. Before he could say another word, Somerton dragged him and Huntley out of the room. The door slammed behind them.

  Matthew sat in the chair, staring into the dancing flames of the fire. He heard her approach but had no idea what to say to her. Everything that had happened tonight was his fault. He should have been clearer with Vanessa. Telling her he didn’t love her would have hurt her, but she was strong and would have recovered. Instead, he had given her false impressions that he might come back to her when he knew that would never happen.

  “Why are you so quiet?” she whispered.

  “This was all my fault, Jennette.”

  She sat on the arm of his leather chair and played with his hair. “Why do you think that?”

  “God, I want some brandy.” He rose to his feet, more to get away from her than to find the brandy. He’d never felt so guilty in all his life. “Would you like some?”

  “Yes, but what I really want is for you to sit down and talk to me.”

  “Brandy first.” He poured two snifters and brought the drinks back to their seat. Then he moved to the sofa.

  Instead of staying in her seat, she moved closer to him. “What are you about tonight, Matthew?”

  He had known Jennette long enough to be certain she wouldn’t cease her questions until he answered them. “This is all my fault, Jennette.”

  She frowned, two small lines indenting her forehead. Again, she reached over and gently caressed his hair. “How could this be your fault? Huntley did this, not you.”

  “He only did this because my former mistress either asked him or is holding something over his head.” Matthew gulped his brandy down. The warming liquid did nothing to ease his frustrations.

  “Why would she have done that?”

  Matthew closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the soft velvet of the sofa. “She was in love with me. I knew that before I ended it with her but I thought…”

  “Thought what?” she whispered.

  “I thought if I gave her hope of my return that I wouldn’t be breaking her heart.”

  Her soft hand moved to caress his face. “And people call you a rake and a scoundrel.”

  “Yes, that’s me. The softhearted rake who can’t break his mistress’s heart.”

  “I think that’s rather sweet.”

  “Not when it caused you to almost be raped.” He moved his head closer to hers. “I can never forgive myself for that.”

  “You have nothing to absolve yourself of. This was Huntley’s fault. He should have refused her.” Jennette glanced away, biting down on her lower lip.

  “What is wrong?” he asked softly.

  “Nothing at all.” She shrugged but he could tell she was avoiding the question.

  “Jennette?”

  “Perhaps I am not the best person to speak of forgiving oneself.”

  “Especially when it wasn’t your fault.”

  She wiped a tear away. Unable to see her crying without comforting her, he pulled her against his chest.

  “B—But what if it was my fault, Matthew?”

  Her fault? How could she possibly think the accident that killed John was her fault? “I was there, Jennette.”

  “So was I.”

  “Your foot slipped in the wet grass,” he said, holding her tighter. While he’d always known she felt guilt over John’s death, never would he have imagined the depths of her remorse. She’d spent the last five years playing the part of the frivolous woman with no cares. A part he’d commanded her to play.

  “Jennette, if anything, I should take more blame,” he said softly.

  “Why? You didn’t have the sword in your hand. I—I did.”

  Matthew flexed his fingers and then pulled them into tight fists. “If I hadn’t spoken to you that morning…If I hadn’t ki—”

  “No, it wouldn’t have mattered. What happened was my fault entirely,” she cried.

  “Jennette—”

  “I wasn’t watching the field as you’d told me to,” she said with a sob. “I should have kept my eyes on John and the field.”

  She pulled away, rose, and then started pacing. There was a wildness to her expression he’d never seen before. Her long black tresses had fallen out of her chignon and flowed down her back. She took a long draught of her brandy and refilled her glass.

  “Jennette,” he started softly to comfort her. “I saw you. I was there. You were watching the field and John.”

  “No, I wasn’t. My gaze was elsewhere. I never should have thought to pick up a sword that day.”

&nbs
p; Matthew walked toward her and caught her shoulders in a loose grip. “I was there, too.”

  “Then you should have noticed where my attention landed that day.” Tears streaked her cheeks.

  Confused, he took a long breath and released it slowly. “I have no idea what you mean. What were you looking at?”

  She stared up at him, her eyes as wet and blue as the ocean. “You! I was looking at you. Not John my betrothed, not the wet grass, or the field. You!”

  Matthew watched as she raced from the room, tears still streaking down her cheeks. He was unable to process what she’d said, and his feet refused to move and follow her.

  Had his words caused her wayward gaze? She had been looking at him. What did she mean by that? Had he made some movement that caught her eye? Had he coughed or cleared his throat?

  Thinking back, he couldn’t remember doing anything but watching them both. And feeling a stab of envy for the love they had for each other.

  Or had they?

  She couldn’t have meant that she’d glanced back at him because she fancied him. That thought made no sense. She and John had loved each other. The six-month betrothal that Jennette had insisted on wasn’t that out of the ordinary. John had told him she needed the time to make the plans for the wedding of the Season.

  He slowly sipped his brandy in thought.

  Had she given John that reason as an excuse?

  She might have delayed the wedding because of her insecurities about him. Perhaps she’d sensed what Matthew knew, that John had been unfaithful to her. The only reason Matthew had told her about his attraction was due to John’s disregard for her. She deserved better than an unfaithful husband.

  Unless she was unsure of her own feelings toward John.

  She’d only been twenty at the time. While not terribly young for marriage, she might not have been as ready as she thought.

  She was looking at you, his mind reminded him.

  He shook his head. Jennette did not have feelings for him five years ago. The kiss he initiated broke off because she had pushed him away. He wasn’t even certain she had feelings for him now, other than lustful ones. This situation seemed to be worsening. He had the perfect opportunity to propose to her tonight. Instead, she raced from the room in tears.