“You will note the artist’s expert use of light,” he said, keeping up the one-sided conversation while his private thoughts whirled in another direction.
He had assumed himself capable of handling Mrs. Binns’s innocuous ploy with the ease of long practice dealing with marriage-minded mothers and chaperones. Perhaps he had been overconfident.
Miss Drummond was the problem. She was different from the other women of his acquaintance, an intriguing mix of uncertainty and straightforwardness. She had the mien of a timid miss, and yet there was intelligence in her eyes. When he had held her close that afternoon, her gaze had seemed to pierce directly into his soul.A ridiculous thought. However, he had been loath to let her go, and the immediate rush of blood to his loins had nearly robbed him of his common sense.The desire to kiss her luscious lips had been overwhelming.
Lust he was familiar with and knew how to handle. But not in his mother’s parlor in front of witnesses.
“Gainsborough had originally sketched out the painting to represent spring; however, great-grandfather nixed the frolicking lambs and overwhelming green in favor of the vivid colors you see.”
If he was going to nip the problem of Miss Drummond in the bud, he could not just stand there and spout artistic nonsense while he grew more physically uncomfortable by the minute.
“Although the south wing, the area in which we are currently standing, was still under construction at the time of the painting, the artist used the architectural drawings to show it complete.”
Dev needed to act and swiftly, either that or get as far away from her as possible. The prospect of London and its myriad distractions held great appeal at that moment, but since he had promised his mother to attend her silly séance, he could not leave.That left the choices of either scaring her into running away from him or slaking his desire and thus causing it to dissipate.
A passionate kiss would accomplish both.
He glanced over his shoulder at her chaperone to confirm that the gentle snoring he’d heard meant Mrs. Binns had nodded off.
Dev sidled nearer to Josephine and slipped an arm around her shoulder to turn her into his embrace. She did not act surprised or resist, but raised her arms to his shoulders and stepped closer. As he leaned forward, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back.
Josie wasn’t sure exactly when she realized her dream had become reality.When her hands touched fabric rather than flesh? When his lips attacked hers? His kiss wasn’t one she would have fantasized. His kiss was hard, relentless, demanding. She pulled away, a whimper of disappointment escaping her throat. She pushed against his shoulder, her strength no match for his. He didn’t let her go.
She ducked her head and braced herself to knee him in the groin when he said, “Let me try that again.”
She shook her head without looking up.
He loosened his hold enough to lift her chin with one hand. Before she could seize the chance to spin away, he said, “Please,” in a deep throaty whisper.Then he flashed her a charming smile, and that damned appealing dimple winked.
Any woman would have agreed to another kiss, Josie rationalized even as she nodded.
His embrace gentled, caressing rather than holding. He leaned closer slowly, so slowly, until his lips barely touched hers, exploring their shape, expectant, as if patiently waiting for her to make the next move.
She breathed in his scent, relaxed in the warm cocoon of his arms, and leaned into his chest. He increased the pressure of his lips slightly and, still exploring, kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, along her jawline, that spot just below her ear before retuning.
Which was all very nice, but she was no simpering Regency miss. Josie was ready, more than ready for some heat. She responded by grasping handfuls of his coat to lift herself up and pull him closer. She deepened the kiss and parted her lips.
When Dev tasted her lips with a tentative flick, she sucked his tongue in deeper and slid her hand up to the back of his neck. He gathered her tightly, one hand supporting her head, the other sliding down to cup her derriere. As he pressed her closer she ground her hips against the hard length pushing against her stomach.
A particularly loud snore brought Dev to his senses like a splash of cold water. He disengaged himself and set Josephine at arm’s length with his hands gentling her shoulders.
“My sincere apologies,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I meant no insult to you.”
“The insult is in stopping,” she whispered back. “In leaving me wanting...more.”
He raised an eyebrow at her response.“Although I am more than willing to oblige, now is neither the time nor the place,” he said with a significant nod toward her chaperone.
She folded her arms and bit her tongue to keep from asking, where and when, then?
Mrs. Binns dropped her fan and it clattered to the floor. She sat up with a start.“What was that?” She looked around the room with an accusing glare.
Josie picked up the offending object and handed the fan back to the older woman.
“Thank you, dearie. My, oh my, is it time for dinner? I’m fair starved.”
“We should be getting back,” Dev said.
His words seemed prophetic to Josie. She should be getting back, to her own time. She soon would be getting back to her life in the future.What was she thinking?
That was the problem. When she was close to Dev, her brain melted to mush. She couldn’t let that happen again. She needed to do the job she’d been hired to do and then get the hell out of Dodge. Before she did something stupid.
Thanks to Amelia’s training, Josie managed the intricacies of Regency dining without problems. When in doubt, she simply watched Honoria and copied her actions. As the lowest-ranking woman, Josie was seated near the middle of the long table between the curate Barstow, who concentrated on his meal, and the morose Hargrave, who barely spoke at all, resulting in long silences. She caught bits of conversations, but as far as she could tell nothing was said about the séance planned for later that evening. Near the end of the two-hour meal, she heard Dev speak to Lady Wingate, who was sitting on the other side of Hargrave.
“I have recently discovered a fascination with artwork,” Dev said.
Was Josie imagining it or had he raised his voice slightly to make sure she could hear?
“I find the simple activity of viewing a fine painting to be...stimulating.” He glanced at Josie and caught her looking at him. “Don’t you, Lady Wingate?”
“I would find your artwork fascinating,” she responded, leaning toward him to display her ample bosom.
Josie stifled a snort of disgust.
“Are you an artist?” Lady Wingate asked.“I dabble in watercolors, myself.”
Dev raised his glass. He rubbed the rim across his lips before taking a sip.“My talents lie in...other activities.”
Even though he wasn’t speaking to her, Josie felt a hot blush creep up her neck.
“Lavinia Satterly raved about your garden statuary,” Lady Wingate said, obviously fishing for an invitation to view his artwork firsthand.
“We should plan a picnic,” Estelle said from his other side, laying her fingertips on Dev’s forearm. “Then all of our...I mean your guests may enjoy the gardens.” Her self-correction was accompanied by a fluttering of eyelashes.
Dev turned his head but did not shift in his chair to face her. “You can certainly make that suggestion to my mother. She may even agree with you. To my mind she has already planned too many activities for her guests.”
Estelle snatched back her hand as if burned.
“As for my guests,” Dev continued as if he hadn’t noticed, “the lads were speaking earlier of hunting. I would enjoy an invigorating diversion. However, tomorrow I’ll remain at home and pur-sue... other pleasures.”
When he said the last words, he looked directly at Josie. Was he making a threat or a promise? Either way she was in trouble.
Honoria chose that moment to stand, the signal for the women to
withdraw and leave the men to their port and cigars. Josie left the dining room determined to use the opportunity to wrangle an invitation to the séance. In the parlor, Deverell waited.
“Whatever took so long?” the ghost demanded, ignored by all except Josie, who was forced to pretend she didn’t hear him either.“Can you get away? We need to talk.”
Josie turned to Mrs. Binns, who had already settled herself on the sofa and pulled out her embroidery. She not only wielded her needle with amazing speed but also did it while wearing gloves.
“Can I get you anything? Your shawl? Your...”
“No, thank you. I am quite content, though I do hope they hurry up with the tea. Sit down. I’m sure the gentlemen won’t be long. Not with such lovely company so close at hand.”
“I think I’ll step into the library and choose a book for later. In case I can’t sleep.”
“That’s a good idea,”Mrs. Binns said with a sigh. She started to put away her needlework.
“Oh, you don’t need to come with me.”
Mrs. Binns hesitated.
“I hardly need protection since all the men are safely ensconced in the dining room. And I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I suppose...”
Before her chaperone could change her mind, Josie headed for the door, only to be stopped by Estelle.
“And where is our little American guest off to so soon?” she asked in a snide tone.
Josie was short on time, so she simply answered, “I’m going to the library for a book.”
“In such a hurry? My, my. Are you running off to an assignation?”
“Why? Were you planning on using the library?”
“What?” Estelle blinked, but she recovered quickly. “No, of course not. I can’t imagine why you should even think such a thing.”
“You brought it up.” Josie tried to step around the taller woman, but Estelle again blocked the way.
“I wanted to have a word with you, Miss Drum-mond, to clarify a matter about which you seem to be confused.”
Josie had had just about enough of the woman. “I can’t imagine what you could possibly elucidate that would have eluded my comprehension.”
Estelle’s brow furrowed.
“Now if you’ll excuse me?” Josie stepped to the other side and around the other woman.
“It’s about Dev,” Estelle blurted out. Josie hesitated and turned around.
Estelle smiled a superior smile.“I wanted you to know Dev and I have an understanding. We are practically engaged.”
Not only had Deverell never mentioned the fact, but Dev certainly hadn’t behaved as if he was practically engaged. He had acted more as though he only tolerated the woman for his mother’s sake.
“We’ve had an understanding since we were children together. Our union has always been his mother’s fondest wish. And, of course, my own.” Estelle ducked her head in a shy schoolgirl move that wouldn’t have fooled an imbecile.
“Too bad that wasn’t your fondest wish seven years ago.”
Estelle sucked in her breath and narrowed her eyes.
Josie could have kicked herself. She should have kept her mouth shut. No sense making an enemy over the issue, especially when she knew Deverell had never married.
“Let’s get something straight. I’m not interested in Dev, okay? I’m not setting my cap for him, or any of those other cute little euphemisms you have for husband hunting. In fact, if I were to stay in this...country, which I’m not, I’d seriously consider becoming a spinster so I could retain control of my property, my purse, and my person.”
“Good God. You’re a bluestocking,” Estelle said with a laugh.“Wait until Dev hears about this.” She turned and walked away,obviously no longer worried.
Josie found Deverell in the library, seated in his favorite leather chair, holding a brandy.
“I find waiting quite tedious.”
“Yeah, well, your fiancée wouldn’t let me leave.”
“Who?”
“You could have told me you and Estelle are practically engaged.”
“Hah! According to her, no doubt.”
“You didn’t...”
“Never.”
“Then why did she say...”
“Because she’s delusional.”
“She said your mother’s fondest...”
“My mother wanted me to marry and get an heir. She would have heartily endorsed any woman’s attempt to shackle me.”
“But Estelle...”
“Forget Estelle.We have work to do. It takes considerable energy to keep us here, and I am not inexhaustible.”
Now that he mentioned it, he did look a little pale. As a peace offering she reached for his brandy glass and warmed it between her palms.“What did you find out?” She took a seat across from him.
“They’ve canceled the séance for tonight.”
“If that’s the case, what can we do?”
“You’ll have to convince Honoria to proceed.”
“How?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. In the meantime, you can work on the gypsy’s methods. They’ve held three séances already. Right here in the library. Supposedly Madame X contacted her spirit guide, named Amanu, who promised to seek out Sir Robert and report back.”
“So your mother is looking for the emeralds?” She handed him back the brandy snifter.
“According to Madame X’s journal...”
“You actually read her diary?”
Deverell bristled.“I have no interest in stooping that low. I read her spiritual journal, which she makes available to potential clients as proof of her abilities, so it’s probably full of lies.”
“But?”
“She wrote an account of the séances. She also noted that my mother is trying to contact my father, her parents, her brother who was killed in France, my sister Caroline, who died before I was born, and someone named Mabel.”
“Estelle’s mother.”
Deverell raised an eyebrow.
“I haven’t been idle either.”
“That I already knew.”
Something in his tone prickled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was enjoying a few moments of quiet relaxation in my private study when I was rudely pushed out by Dev’s entrance with you and Mrs. Binns.”
“Oh.” What else did he know? Josie rose and walked around the room, peeking under tables and knocking on the surfaces.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for false bottoms or places to hide wires and such. Is this the furniture that’s always been in here?”
“Yes. I saw you...”
“Did the journal describe any effects? Eerie lights? Moving objects? Mysterious sounds?”
“Nothing like that.” He took a sip of his brandy.
“I saw you kissing him.”
Josie stopped and faced the ghost. She folded her arms.“What exactly do you remember?”
Deverell considered how much to tell her.“My memories remain unchanged.” More the pity. “I suspect that will only alter after we return.”
“But you said...”
“I said I saw you. I observed you.”
“You spied on me?”
“Now you know how it feels.The shoe’s on the other foot, eh?”
“How? Is this something new? You couldn’t make yourself invisible to me before.”
“Although I loathe admitting it, I simply peered through the window like a common Peeping Tom. If you had bothered to look, I’m sure you would have seen me. As a matter of interest you might remember in the future, anyone strolling along the veranda could have seen you.”
“Just how long did you observe me? Exactly what did you see?”
“I saw you kissing him.”
“He kissed me.”
“And you kissed him back.”
“Okay. Yes, I kissed him...you, no him.” Josie threw up her hands. “This is so awkward. He is you, I mean you are him, but yo
u’re not...not really the same. I mean he’s a very physical presence and you’re, well, not.”
A condition he felt more keenly with each passing hour. Deverell cleared his throat. “I must warn you he’ll break your heart if you let him.”
“I won’t.” She tipped her head to one side.“That advice seems a bit odd, coming from you.”
“I may only be a ghost, but I’m not heartless.”
“Still.” Deep in thought, she wandered over to a bookshelf and ran her finger along the book spines.
“Miss Drummond?”
Josie started and turned at the sound. An unfamiliar maid curtsied in the doorway. “Mrs. Binns sent me to ask if I can be of any assistance.”
“No, thank you.” Josie reached out and grabbed a book.“Tell her I’ll be along in a minute.”
“Yes, miss.”The maid curtsied again and left.
“I guess I should go,” she said, not looking at Deverell.
“Perhaps that would be...”
“Hey. This is an original Pride and Prejudice.And a personal note to your mother on the inside cover is signed. Is this authentic?”
“Of course it is,” Deverell said, his tone saying she need not have bothered to ask.“We met years before she published anything.”
“You met Jane Austen?”
“Before she achieved her bit of notoriety. The Austen family lived in Bath for a time and regularly attended the Lower Ballroom. I was quite fond of dancing at the time, as were Jane and her sister, Cassandra.” He chuckled. “My mother quite got her hopes up.”
“Do you realize if this book is still on the shelf in our time, it could sell for thousands of dollars, er...pounds?” She looked up and down the floor to-ceiling shelves.“There’s probably a fortune here. Amelia could fix...”
“Yes, yes, the paintings are valuable, too.The furniture is valuable. The tableware. The silver. The point of coming here was to save the castle without selling off the family...”
“Possessions are just things, and things aren’t...”
“These things are more than sticks of wood, daubs of paint on a canvas, and bits of paper.They are my family’s heritage. My father sat in that chair. My uncle wielded that sword in battle.That painting over the mantel is Sir Robert, the second...”
“Sir Robert with the emeralds?” Josie asked, looking up at the scowling pirate.
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