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Captivated by His Kiss: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Seven Regency Romances

Page 9

by Cheryl Bolen


  “The joy is all ours,” Diana said.

  “Indeed, it is a delight to have guests,” Mary Ann added.

  Lizzie smiled. “Tomorrow we shall steal you away from the males and bombard you with questions about the newest fashions in London and the assemblies at Almack’s.”

  “You’re much too young to be filling your head with such things,” Mary Ann chided as she set a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder and guided her from the room.

  “My cousin will be happy to discourse on fashion,” Jane said. “It is a subject upon which her knowledge is vast.”

  “I could certainly tell that by the quality of her beautiful clothing,” Lady Diana said.

  Mary Ann sighed. “As if one that lovely even needed beautiful clothing!”

  Alone in her bedchamber, Jane dressed for bed, then climbed onto the high, curtained bed. She lay there in the semidarkness, the wood fire crackling in the grate, her thoughts spinning over the day’s events before coming to settle on Mr. Poppinbotham. Until today, she had not admired the man, and while he had yet to do something to earn her respect, tonight he had won her affection.

  Certainly not the same kind of affection which Lord Slade elicited in her, but now she saw Mr. Poppinbotham as a man struggling to better himself. And he needed her in order to accomplish what he wished to accomplish in life. The very notion of being needed gave her a sense of purpose.

  She tried to imagine being kissed by Mr. Poppinbotham, but the thought made her excessively uncomfortable. Not like with Lord Slade. The very idea of kissing him had a profound physical effect upon her entire person–a pleasant physical effect. Indeed, she could think of nothing which could be more pleasant.

  She had come to believe that Mr. Poppinbotham meant to ask for her hand in marriage. Would he ask her on the morrow? What would be her response?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Whatever is the matter, Runt?” Lord Slade asked Lizzie as he entered the saloon the following morning and saw her reddened, teary eyes.

  “My . . . my persecutor insists that I cannot get out of my lessons today.” She glared at her eldest sister.

  He stopped and eyed Mary Ann. “I appreciate that you have Lizzie’s best interest at heart, and I’m cognizant that it’s a great burden having to serve as mother and father while I’m away, but I think this once it can’t hurt for her to take a day away from lessons.” He knew how much Lizzie loved a picnic.

  Mary Ann’s features softened. “Honestly, Slade! You are such a tender heart. I knew you’d come right behind me and undermine my efforts to instill in her self-discipline.”

  He drilled Mary Ann with a stern look. “Can you honestly tell me Lizzie is so deficient in knowledge that she cannot miss a single day of instruction?”

  “You know she’s more than capable. She’s too devilishly clever, by far.” She mumbled under her breath. “She’s entirely too much like you.”

  He hugged Mary Ann. “A most fortunate girl, to be sure.”

  Lizzie flew to him and threw her arms around him. “You are the best brother any girl ever had.”

  “Indeed you are, Slade.” Mary Ann looked up at him with admiration shining in her eyes. “It’s you who have all the burdens. It’s not fair that you’re saddled with all of us, and you’re not yet thirty.”

  He stiffened. “Pray, don’t ever speak like that. I count myself as the most fortunate man in the three kingdoms to have four such delightful siblings.”

  “All the same,” Mary Ann said, “it’s a pity you had to make that Vow.”

  He shrugged.

  Mary Ann pushed at Lizzie. “Go tell your governess you’ll not be taking lessons today.”

  After Lizzie left the chamber, and the two of them were alone, she spoke her mind. “I know that wretched Vow is forcing you to dance attendance upon that empty-headed – albeit beautiful – heiress when it’s plain as the nose on your face that Miss Featherstone is the very girl for you.”

  He felt rather as if someone had walloped his chest. Miss Featherstone! He had never given the lady the slightest consideration–at least, not in a romantic way.

  Because he knew he could not.

  He had a duty to his dying father. His own preferences were not to be considered. There were too many people dependent upon him. “You are quite mistaken. Have you not noticed that Miss Featherstone and Mr. Poppinbotham are courting? I believe the man means to propose to her during their stay here at Dunvale.”

  She winced. “That would be a terrible shame.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “They are so mismatched.” She nibbled at her lip, then lowered her voice. “And because I know she’s in love with you.”

  “You can certainly know no such thing!”

  “But I do, Slade. Women know about these things.”

  He looked at her skeptically. “Seventeen is hardly a woman.”

  “You’ve told me all my life I’m much older and wiser than my years. It’s because I’m the firstborn daughter with the attendant responsibilities, just as you, as the firstborn son, have even greater responsibilities.”

  “You understand I have to court Lady Sarah.”

  She solemnly shook her head. “I just wish you had free will to marry the woman who would make you the best life partner.”

  He turned away, then spun back and faced his wise sister whose face so resembled his and David’s–in a pretty version. “What makes you think Miss Featherstone has the least interest in me?”

  She lowered her voice. “Surely you can’t believe her serious about that hanger-on!”

  “Actually, no. I am sure Miss Featherstone has more sense than that.” He continued to lower his voice because he really would not want poor Mr. Poppinbotham to hear him. He certainly did not dislike the man. It was just that he was so far beneath the touch of the impeccable Miss Featherstone.

  Mary Ann shrugged and kept her voice low. “I can’t actually say how I know Miss Featherstone’s in love with you. Perhaps it’s the way she watches you. Or the way she looks so sad when you communicate with her cousin. Or perhaps it’s the way she seems to perk up like a pup whenever you address her. Certainly nothing like she responds to her so-called suitor.” Mary Ann abruptly stopped talking, her gaze darting to the doorway.

  He turned and faced the cousins. “Good morning, ladies,” he said, bowing. “I have good news. The dark clouds have gone, and we will be free to take our country walk and to have our picnic this afternoon.”

  “That is good news,” Lady Sarah said. “This morning I should love to ride.”

  He frowned. “I’m afraid we don’t keep a proper stable here at Dunvale.”

  Her lovely face fell. “Oh, of course. You do spend most of your time in London, but - - -” She suddenly must have realized he kept no stable in London, either.

  He was not embarrassed that he had pockets to let; he was embarrassed that it was obvious he was interested in her fortune.

  And he suddenly felt very sorry for the beautiful young woman.

  He offered her a broad smile and came to take both her hands. “I assure you, walking outside the castle walls will be most agreeable.”

  “It’s not just my brother’s partial opinion, either,” Lady Mary Ann added. “Everyone admires our park.”

  Mr. Poppinbotham entered the chamber, chatting amiably with Lady Diana. The man’s face brightened when he saw Miss Featherstone.

  Lord Slade did not at all like to think of Miss Featherstone encouraging the poor man. Not when there was no way an intelligent woman like she–a woman from one of England’s oldest families, no less–would even consider uniting herself to someone like Cecil Poppinbotham.

  Perhaps Slade should have a word with her today, let her know of Poppinbotham’s plans so she could give the best consideration as to how to let the old fellow down gently.

  *

  David led the way along the broad lawn to the rear of Dunvale, Mary Ann on his left, and Diana on his right. Next came
Lord Slade, with Lady Sarah linking her arm to his proffered arm and an adoring Lizzie strolling beside the Paragon of Fashion and quizzing her unmercifully about London fashions. Miss Featherstone and Mr. Poppinbotham were just a few feet behind them.

  “Have you decided what angle you wish me use when I sketch Dunvale, my lord?” Miss Featherstone asked.

  It was as if she’d stolen into his thoughts for he had been wondering the very same thing. “Ideally, I’d like to get the lake in either the background or foreground.”

  She laughed. “I was going to suggest the same thing.”

  “You know, my lord,” she said, “I was a bit surprised when you expressed in interest in having me draw Dunvale.”

  His step slowed, and he turned to look back at the lady. He hated to address anyone– especially a lady–when his back was presented to them. “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged. He noticed she, unlike her cousin who wore a lovely pink velvet pelisse on this cool day, wore a knitted shawl of dark green. Practical and economical, like the lady who wore it. The green shawl was perfectly becoming on her. “It’s just that I never felt you held Dunvale in great admiration.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “How very well you know me, Miss Featherstone. I must own that one of the reasons I wished to have a good drawing of Dunvale was to have it for my brother when he’s off on his travels for crown and country. My brother seems to have inherited all the affection for the old pile that the heir was supposed to possess.”

  “I have noticed that Captain St. John does seem every bit as enamored of the castle as my cousin.” Miss Featherstone said.

  “I declare, Cousin Jane, I believe you’re right!” Lady Sarah gave a scolding look up at her escort. “Really, my lord, you should be more proud of your ancestral home.”

  He sighed. “But my dear lady, I’ve taken the liberty of sparing you exposure to Dunvale’s warts.”

  She looked straight ahead. “I shouldn’t think there could be any warts at Dunvale that could not be repaired with a hefty purse.”

  “But alas, my lady, I’m sadly in want of that.” As uncomfortable as the confession made him, he was relieved that he’d finally been honest with the young lady. He was also relieved to have all his warts out in the open. He disliked deception of any kind.

  As they continued on, with Lizzie and Lady Sarah discussing fashion, he pondered what the lady had just said. There couldn’t be any warts at Dunvale that could not be repaired with a hefty purse. Surely that had to mean she was considering him as a potential husband. Isn’t that exactly what he wanted?

  Then why did he feel so very low?

  The land surrounding the castle resembled a green carpet that was symmetrically dissected by a wide gravel path. As they strolled across its vast expanse, pockets of trees stood out in the distance. These had been carefully planted to provide as many varying shades of green as possible. Though Lord Slade looked upon the castle itself as a burden as well as a cold and grim monstrosity of a building, he enjoyed its landscape.

  Once they neared the trees, Capability Brown’s curving lake came into view. Lord Slade always smiled when he noted the little humpback stone bridge that spanned the lake at one of its narrower points. That had been his mother’s lone contribution to the landscape.

  “I declare, my lord, one could never want to return to London.” Lady Sarah’s appreciation of the lake and its surrounding landscape pleased him.

  “I cannot convey to you how happy those words make me.”

  They circled the lake, then still farther beyond they came to the summer house, a neoclassical structure situated on a man-made hill that overlooked the lake. There, his footmen were setting up tables for their picnic while Cook and the scullery maid were unpacking baskets that were brimming with food and drink.

  By the time they reached the summer house, they had walked for more than an hour. House was an inaccurate name for the structure. It was really more of a pavilion because it had no proper walls. Doric columns supported the pedimented roof.

  Several tables had been laid out to make one long table that was now generously set with food. There was cold mutton, fresh country cheese, apples, hard-cooked eggs, and ale and wine with which to wash down the meal.

  “Please feel free to sit where you’d like,” Slade said.

  Lady Sarah ended up with a brother on either side of her. As the meal progressed, Lord Slade was disappointed in himself for not being a more interesting conversationalist. David, on the other hand, practically held court. He had Lady Sarah listening in raptures to his tales of India. What a pity that he, Lord Slade, was incapable of establishing a closeness between himself and the young lady he was trying to woo.

  He had hoped he and Lady Sarah could stray from the others today in order to establish some intimacy between them, but he did not at all like to give Poppinbotham the opportunity to pop his question to Miss Featherstone, not before Slade had the opportunity to prepare the young lady.

  While David was telling Lady Sarah about some raja’s palace, Lord Slade found himself watching Miss Featherstone across the table. How attentive Mr. Poppinbotham was, insisting on serving her and soliciting her opinion on food preferences. Then once the man realized his host was not engaged in conversation, he began to quiz him.

  “I say, my lord, while Miss Featherstone is drawing your castle this afternoon, I thought I’d like to poke about in your library.”

  “You are certainly welcome to borrow any book you choose.”

  “Have you the writings of this Thomas Paine?”

  “Indeed, I do. I will be happy to find it for you when return to the castle.” Lord Slade met Miss Featherstone’s gaze. “I hope you’ll allow me to help you bring out your chair or anything else the artist might need.” He needed to prepare her for what was certain to be an unwelcome proposal from a man of trade.

  She looked a bit puzzled for a moment. She was aware he had footmen who could provide such a service, but she was her gracious self when she replied, “That would be very kind of you, my lord. Perhaps you will be able to show me from which angle you’d like me to draw Dunvale.”

  “You’re the artist, my dear Miss Featherstone.”

  *

  He found The Rights of Man for Poppinbotham while Miss Featherstone raced upstairs to fetch her drawing supplies, then the two were ready to go back outdoors. She carried her sketchbook while he toted one of the folding chairs they had used at the picnic.

  “I have very much enjoyed my stay at Dunvale, my lord. And I must tell you your sisters are a delight. I feel a special affinity for Lady Mary Ann. It’s almost as if we’ve known each other all our lives.”

  “She told me she’s very fond of you.” He laughed. “She even thinks I should wed you!” The woman strolling beside him stiffened at his words. “Forgive me for laughing. Of course, Mary Ann has good reason to think you’d make me a fine wife. I even agree with her, but you and I know such a thing is not possible.”

  She nodded. “Most certainly.”

  They strolled across the vast stretch of lawn in silence. When they reached the lake, she took some time getting her perspective. When she decided on it, he set up her chair, and she settled down and began to sketch.

  He cleared his throat.

  She looked up at him. “Yes?”

  “I hoped to have a private word with you today.”

  She continued to look up at him with those solemn green eyes. They were very fine, very expressive eyes. “About what?”

  “About Poppinbotham.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m not really sure you do. Are you aware that the man means to ask for your hand in marriage? “

  Her brows lifted. “Has he told you so?”

  “Yes.”

  “I must admit that your announcement is not unexpected.”

  “It was really too mean of you to lead on the poor chap. Just because he’s not one of us doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings. In fact, I believe he’s n
ot only wanting to marry you to help his social climb, I believe the man has really come to care for you.”

  “Yes, I had reached quite the same opinion.”

  “How can you just sit there looking up at me so innocently? I beg you to consider the poor man’s feelings.”

  “Oh, I assure you I have, my lord.”

  Her words gave him pause. “Whatever can you mean?”

  “I mean that I am not adverse to plighting my life to Mr. Poppinbotham.”

  He felt as if he’d just been knocked off his feet by a swiftly moving coach and four. His gaze locked with hers, a sizzling anger rising in him. “You cannot possibly be in love with the man!”

  Her lashes lowered. “No, I cannot.”

  He dropped down to his knees before her and drew her hands into his, “Then for God’s sake, Jane, don’t throw yourself away on him.” He suddenly realized he’d called her by her Christian name. In his nine and twenty years, he had never slipped in such a manner. At least not with a proper lady.

  Tears gathered in her eyes, but she made no effort to swipe them away. It fairly broke his heart to see her suffer. Almost as much as it broke his heart to think of her lying beside Cecil Poppinbotham. “You must understand, my lord, Mr. Poppinbotham is the only man who has ever fallen in love with me. That I am poor and plain should not relegate me to a spinster’s life. I should like my own home, my own children. Mr. Poppinbotham can give me those things. And I assure you, he is excessively kind to me.”

  Jack St. John, the Earl of Slade, had never done a rash thing in his life. Until he drew Miss Featherstone’s upper torso into his arms and began to kiss her with a hunger which bowled him over in its intensity.

  Just as surprising as his action was the lady’s reaction. She kissed him with the kind of passion he would have thought a spinster like she incapable of. God in heaven, but she felt so sweet in his arms!

  But unlike Mr. Cecil Poppinbotham, Lord Slade was not at liberty to ask for her hand in marriage.

 

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