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Undone by His Kiss

Page 8

by Anabelle Bryant


  But Kell’s poor habits didn’t end at the bedchamber door. He gambled and won against the sharpest card sharks, raced phaetons recklessly at breakneck speed, and dared fate on a regular basis, only to laugh at the experiences during the wee hours of the morning when he overindulged in expensive brandy. Kellaway was on a collision course with ruin, sought often by angry husbands and sore losers, yet even the most deft fellow had to shake his head in awe when the viscount landed on his feet time and time again, life as plummy as usual.

  “Miss Shaw?” Jasper strove for a conversational tone, although his pulse thundered. He could never match Kellaway’s charm.

  “She must be the lady who has you grinning like the cat’s uncle.” Oliver rose from his chair and finished his drink. “I knew some distraction held you captive. When I introduced you to Lord Stanbuck, you neglected to produce your card. Stanbuck presents the perfect client. More hair than wit and twice as much cash.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jasper’s retort sounded tetchy and rightly so. “I spoke to at least three gentlemen before we sequestered ourselves from the others.” He spared a glance in the direction of the gaming tables. “And a friendly word concerning Miss Shaw.” He aimed his comment toward Kell but wished to leap atop the billiard’s table and declare it to every gentleman present. “The lady has organized a league to promote female independence. I doubt she has time for nonsense and frivolity, never mind one of your meaningless tumbles.” He swallowed hard, forcing the words out and disliking the sound of them.

  “A free thinker. Now that can prove interesting.” Kellaway chuckled in a way that caused Jasper to scowl. “I’m always intrigued by a novel experience.”

  “As if one could keep a tally.” Oliver chuckled. “With you it’s either breaking hearts or breaking rules.”

  Kellaway merely smirked at the description of his character.

  The conversation had taken a decided turn away from Miss Shaw and Jasper bounded at the chance to keep the diversion of topic in play. “Mark my words. Kell’s callous attitude will be his downfall someday.”

  “I doubt I’ll live long enough to see it.” Kell swallowed the remainder of his drink, yet the sobering comment brought a stall to the men’s otherwise lighthearted banter. Aware he’d revealed too much truth, Kellaway forced a smile and tossed the cue ball in Jasper’s direction. “Strike my last words and continue the game. Then we can hie out of here in search of better amusement. I know a place where the favors are free and no one bothers with introductions.”

  “That sounds a bit risky.” Oliver’s expression reflected skepticism.

  “A pleasure garden, my friends. Nothing more.” Kell tapped his cue on the green. “Finish the game. Winner gets first pick of the ladies.”

  “As if you stand a chance over Oliver and me.” Jasper aligned his next shot, relieved and confident a disaster had been avoided.

  “Need I remind you, I always win.” Kell finished his declaration with a chuckle although the strike of billiards overrode the sound.

  “It can only be strange fate that has me attending two societal events in one week.” Emily accepted a glass of champagne from a passing servant’s tray and moved further into the salon alongside Thomasina. “When your note arrived, I was in quite a mood. This affair supplies the perfect diversion. Thank you for including me.” She spoke the truth, anxious for anything that might distract her from the memory of Jasper St. David’s kiss. Her vow to banish the memory of the sensual press of his lips had failed miserably; the experience so hot, it burned her brain and left a scar. With unexplainable vexation, a smile played on her lips.

  “Oh, you are my savior this evening, Emily. Mother made it clear her patience nears exhaustion and I’m to take my nose out of books and into society.” Thomasina laughed, her cheerful disposition ever constant.

  “Far better to have a mother who cares too much, than one who cares too little.” Her friend thought little of the comment and Emily didn’t share how the description echoed the sadness of her home situation.

  “I suppose. I’ll attend a few events to bide my time. I’m sure there’s something to be learned amidst all the flowers and flummery. Lord Stanbuck must have a library. Everybody has one, wouldn’t you presume?”

  “I couldn’t say. I fathom literature is a delight revered by a select population.” Emily slue her eyes to each corner of the room. Guests conversed, nibbled on tasty hors d’oeuvres, and sipped expensive wine. Her mother once enjoyed this type of function. Now Bianca rarely stepped into the daylight. A tinge of melancholy threatened to take hold, but Emily shoved it away. “Why don’t we take a stroll around the room and then when your mother’s not looking, we can slip into the hallway in search of invigoration.”

  “I like the way you think.” Thomasina waved a gloved hand toward the hall. “Hurry, because I cannot abide another minute of this stuff and nonsense.”

  Weaving through the crowd, Emily led their path to the room’s perimeter where they engaged in an elegant meander until they were able to exit beyond anyone’s notice. They stifled a collective giggle and skittered through the hall like two schoolgirls escaping lessons. As they skimmed the wall Emily’s bare arm rubbed the flocked imprint on the fabric wallcoverings causing a shiver from the downy sensation. Intrigued, she examined the design, yet they were well past the hall’s end before she realized the fabric had been patterned with birds in flight. She wriggled her wrist, assuring her charm bracelet was in place and then pulled up short as three gentlemen intersected their path.

  “Now where would two lovelies be off to with such expedience?”

  Viscount Kellaway stood before them, every bit the dashing example of an out-and-outer, although his hair was unusually long, well past his collar, as if he purposely refused to bow down to society’s fashion dictates. She liked that about him, despite an uncanny sense of familiarity rioted through her when their eyes matched.

  “Miss Shaw? Is that you?” Jasper stepped around Kellaway, an incredulous expression on his face. A third gentleman joined him and the narrow hallway shrunk by half.

  Thomasina, ever the pragmatic thinker, suggested they step into the library, which she’d located with exuberance. Emily’s gaze fixed on Jasper. Introductions were promptly made.

  “Fancy you would be here.” Jasper’s surprise transformed to a wide smile of greeting.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have raced through the hall. She felt warm all of a sudden. Her palms grew damp beneath her gloves and her cheeks flushed. Good heavens, what did she look like?

  “Suddenly this gathering is far more interesting than your suggestion, Kell. Let’s stay a while longer.” Jasper’s attention never wavered though his comments were aimed at the viscount.

  And he did look entirely too handsome. One would have to be blindfolded to ignore the strong line of his jaw, his unruly dark hair. Indeed, the strands were just-spun silk against her fingers.

  She needed to forget that kiss.

  “Oh, were you leaving?” Her voice sounded breathy and so unlike the usual, she never should have hurried willy nilly down the hallway.

  “Not at all.” Jasper stepped forward with his hand extended. “Walk with me.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t leave Thomasina.” She forced her eyes to her friend who examined the nearby bookcases with fervor, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Mr. Nicholson. Perhaps another excuse would be called for.

  “Miss Gordon appears otherwise occupied.” Jasper raised his hand again as if to entreat her agreement. “Oliver is a good sort. You need not worry. Now Kell, he’s a different matter altogether.”

  In unison they glanced to where Viscount Kellaway scrutinized a piece of artwork over the hearth. He cut a fine figure with the bank of windows as his backdrop, an aristocrat on display. Yet he didn’t fool anyone. His foot tamped an impatient beat as if he barely contained his tolerance, and his eyes were narrowed in forced consideration.

  Besides, it was just an invitation
to walk. “In that case—”

  “St. David, there you are.” Penwick entered the library with two men in tow. “I’d like a word with you. My comrades are quite interested in the matter we discussed at your office.”

  Jasper’s head shot up with the mention of Inventive Investments, although all light left his eyes when he realized the conflict of attention.

  “I’m afraid I’m otherwise committed, gentlemen. Perhaps you will visit my office upon morning and we’ll make arrangements for further discussion.”

  Emily wouldn’t wish Jasper to lose out on potential connections, but she’d only just finished pummeling good sense into submission, now she floundered for the words to release him from obligation.

  Penwick sent a polite nod in her direction. “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible. The three of us are for Paris on the morrow. I can only spare this evening, but were you to grant me the time, you have my word I’ll return you to this very space in an hour.”

  Emily watched as a series of emotions transformed Jasper’s face. Her curiosity begged she wait out his decision while her heart saw no reason for him to torment himself. She would politely suggest they walk another time, yet the words never left her tongue.

  “Be gone.” Kellaway stepped to the fore. “You’ve been after new business all evening and it’s my esteemed pleasure to keep Miss Shaw’s company in your absence.”

  Jasper’s expression grew decidedly grave.

  “A superb idea.” Emily looped her hand through Kellaway’s arm. She couldn’t ignore the intangible pull which insisted she learn more of the viscount. This proved a fine opportunity.

  “Then it’s settled.” Kellaway placed a firm hand atop hers. “Find us here or thereabout when you’re through. Then we’ll see where the evening takes us.”

  Thomasina and Oliver had ceased their discussion to watch the conversation with interest. Then Jasper, his expression an odd mixture of eagerness and displeasure, excused himself with few words and exited through the double doors after the trio of gentlemen.

  Chapter 12

  “It goes against all etiquette for me to walk alone in the garden with you, Lord Kellaway.” Emily used her most strident tone. “But since I’m nearly on the shelf and not at all interested in romance, I find the experience quite liberating.” She bestowed him a genuine smile.

  “Disinterested in romance? An unusual proposition. One you might want to mention to Jasper.” Kellaway chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. “Oliver and Miss Gordon are hardly far behind. I doubt you need worry about impropriety on any front. By the by, you should call me Kell. Everyone I consider a friend uses the name.”

  “Oh.” The fast pace of their conversation caught her unaware. “Thank you.”

  They walked across the slates toward a fountain at the center of the garden. Other couples passed as they partook of the pleasant night air and the evening felt exactly as Emily had described. Liberating. Freeing. How delightful to not worry about a dance partner or other tight-laced social dictates. From what she could discern of her escort’s attitude, he didn’t give a fig for propriety.

  “Have you been friends with Mr. St. David very long? He seems extremely focused on ensuring his business venture is successful.” She knew little of Jasper’s character, yet threads of honesty, loyalty, and ambition were woven firmly in her impression. Oh, and his wicked mastery of kissing. That remembrance gave her stomach a pleasant little flutter.

  “Jasper is the best sort and more than motivated to prove his worth. We’ve been friends since university, although he was the one earning high grades while I walked the fine line of expulsion.”

  “You didn’t care for academics?” She tipped her attention upward to glance at Kellaway’s face.

  “It wasn’t that. My father is a difficult man. He views me as a disappointment and the feeling is mutual. When he demanded I earn Firsts in all subjects, I strove to achieve the minimal scores required to skirt dismissal.” Kell quirked a brief smile. “Pardon my honesty. I don’t usually divulge my purposeful transgressions.”

  “I understand. You harbor harsh feelings then.” She paused, turning to look him straight in the eye. “It’s something we share. My father had strong views also. His desire to adhere to those beliefs destroyed my mother’s mind and heart. I carry that hurt with me everywhere and shall never forgive him. Haughty peers with their endless money are not my favorite subject.”

  They continued in amicable silence for a good length and as before she experienced a sense of affinity with the viscount, a natural accord that promised there was more to learn.

  “Then what is?”

  Lost in her ruminations, Emily didn’t know to what he referred at first. Then a smile overtook her countenance. “Equality and empowerment for women so they have the same opportunities as men. I confess, the interest was borne of my mother’s condition, but I embrace it with zeal.”

  “That explains your office above Jasper’s.”

  “Yes.” Amazing, how much satisfaction could embody a single syllable.

  “So you have no desire to wed? Settle into the expected life?” Kell’s question was casual at best.

  “Not with a man who will clip my wings. If I were to marry, I would need a husband who worried little about societal opinion. Someone who embraced new ideas and approached life with positive intent. A man who wasn’t intimidated or threatened because his wife had an opinion. I’ve yet to find a gentleman whose mind is as open to feminine opportunity as I’ve described.” She stated her words with such vaunted ferocity, she inclined to soften their delivery with a little laugh. “I apologize. I become impassioned when discussing the subject.”

  “As you should.” He guided her around a wrought-iron bench placed near the path for viewing. “I’m finding this conversation fascinating.”

  They’d reached the end of the walkway and the most likely location for a long, sensuous kiss. No doubt many a couple vowed emotion amongst the fragrant willowherb and dormant fritillary before embracing.

  Amusement danced in Kellaway’s gaze, but Emily experienced nothing more than cordial companionship. He was a handsome man, assured of feminine adoration, but there was another layer to his personality of which she’d gained a glimpse this evening. He spoke of his father with the same unresolved emotion she harbored toward hers. At least Kell stood the remote chance of resolving his differences. That option didn’t exist for Emily.

  Jasper darted to the library as soon as the meeting with Penwick and his comrades ended. Assured of further equity in Nasmyth’s invention, he’d gotten what he’d wanted, yet his attention had been anywhere but the conversation. Kellaway and his escort of Miss Shaw permeated his brain with all sorts of disturbing scenarios making it near impossible to concentrate on business performance and derivatives. He’d noticed Kellaway’s expression as they’d parted and his friend had been grinning like a Cheshire cat. Kell was a loyal friend, but Miss Shaw’s charm was near irresistible.

  Anxious to rejoin, he encountered the group as they returned from the gardens. A spike of jealousy, followed by a flare of irrational insecurity, punctured his otherwise cheerful demeanor. A stroll in the garden rarely ended in a handshake. What had Kellaway achieved? He examined Miss Shaw’s face for any telltale sign she’d allowed the scalawag a liberty. Hadn’t she made a point to denounce their kiss as a mistake? Insist it never happen again? Surely she wouldn’t have allowed the same to a reputed libertine?

  Kell would think nothing of a kiss, while the same intimate gesture meant everything to Jasper.

  But no, rash emotion prodded he judged his friend unfairly. Kell might be driven by his own hidden demons, but never had he behaved mean-spirited to a friend.

  “There you are.” Oliver greeted him with a smile. “I was hoping your meeting went well, but also progressed with ease so you might return in fast measure.”

  “Here I am.” Jasper matched eyes with the four, settling his gaze on Miss Shaw and not budging. She smiled, her b
lue eyes brilliant, from her foray in the garden or because he’d returned proved the conundrum.

  Unlike Kell, he wanted more than a quick tumble. But how to venture into the heart of a woman vowed to embrace independence? There lay a challenge. One he must achieve for no other reason than to alleviate his unrelenting arousal whenever Miss Shaw stood near.

  And damn, if he still didn’t know her first name. He needed to correct that oversight with expedience.

  “Thomasina!”

  The exclamation, thick with reproach, intruded on Jasper’s contemplations.

  “Young ladies do not wander off unchaperoned.” The elderly woman, dressed in a frothy gown of dusky sinoper, entered the room with purpose. “I’ve been all about this house looking for you.”

  “Yes, Mother.” The smile left Thomasina’s eyes and she dropped her gaze as she moved to the door, her cheeks pinker than her mother’s dress.

  Jasper watched the interplay with amusement, but it was Oliver who attempted to save the evening.

  “Why don’t we return to the ballroom? Dinner should be served shortly.” He shadowed Thomasina, a look of surprise clearing the embarrassment from the young lady’s face. “I understand roasted squab with berry sauce is on the menu.”

  “Excellent idea, Oliver. Although pigeon hardly replaces swan.” Kell flicked open his pocket watch and noted the time. “I can’t imagine a finer end to the evening.”

  Jasper knew a falsehood when he heard one, but as the four left the library and he remained with Miss Shaw, he didn’t dare raise a breeze.

  “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He stepped a little closer, anxious, but unwilling to reveal his eagerness.

  The lady answered with a question of her own. “How it is that when all of London entertains tonight, somehow we’ve met at this most unlikely place?”

  She spun a slow circle as if examining the dark paneled walls, fine leather furniture and stoic bookcases filled with leather tomes and expensive vases. The action offered an eyeful of her petite stature, slim figure and demure selection in fashion.

 

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