“If you are about to tell me to find a woman with title or money, I swear I will knock you on your ass.” It had been years since he’d hit Preston or even disagreed with him, yet his fist clenched, ready for battle.
“You know I don’t care about any of that.”
“What is it, then?”
Preston held his hands out to his sides. “You are a Frenchman in England. You rely on a good relationship with people in society in order to continue your lucrative business. Marrying a girl who was accused of treason is not exactly the best way to endear yourself to the ton.”
“Do you have any other objections?” Jacques bit the inside of his cheek. None of it made any difference. The fact that Preston was right didn’t matter. If the members of society didn’t want to do business with him, they would suffer as much as him.
“Only one other.” He tugged on his cravat.
“What is it?”
“What if we’re wrong about her? What if she is a traitor to the crown?”
Jacques sucked in a long breath and rushed forward, grabbing a handful of Preston’s blouse. He backed his best friend to the wall. “Do not ever say that again. Diana is a good and kind soul who has been through more than you can imagine. I do not care what your English gentry think and frankly, I do not care what you think, Pres. I am going to make her my wife because I am in love with her and cannot live without her.”
Nodding, Preston made no move to get away from him. “Then you need not strangle me. If this is how you feel, I shall love her like my own sister.”
One breath at a time, Jacques brought his anger under control. He let go of Preston’s shirt. “Thank you. I would hate to lose your friendship, Pres.”
Preston slapped him on the back. “And you never shall.”
Chapter 16
Diana had been looking for Jacques because he’d never come back to the parlor. She’d tried his bedchamber but found it empty. Nice women didn’t traipse about in the middle of the night, but she wanted to see him once more before Christmas was over.
In her bare feet and nightgown, she’d taken the stone steps down and found him talking to Preston in the parlor by the fire.
She should have made her presence known, but when Preston said she would damage Jacques’s business, she’d hid herself just outside the door. It was beneath her, but she couldn’t help herself. Preston was right. She would ruin all Jacques had built in England. One day he would come to resent her for destroying his business.
Jacques’s voice had been so calm and unaffected. When he’d asked if Preston had any other objections, Diana had run back up the steps and gone to her bed for a good cry. How could she have been so wrong about his feelings for her?
No. He said he loved her. Perhaps the reminder of losing so much money by marrying a woman of doubtful character had tempered his love. It was too much to give up for a girl who had nothing to offer the marriage. Perhaps if she came with a large dowry, he could afford to be rejected by the ton. Diana had nothing; no connections and no riches. All she could do was help Francis Edgebrook with his experiments. Hardly enough to base a partnership on, let alone a marriage.
It seemed like her tears would never stop. She wiped her face a hundred times and had even gone to the washbasin to scrub her sorrow away. It had no effect, and the tears fell endlessly.
When the knock came soft as a bird at her door, she froze. Silence followed. Maybe she’d imagined it.
There it was again.
Wiping her face with the sleeve of her voluminous nightdress, she padded to the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me,” Jacques said. His voice light and eager, he sounded nothing like the cold, detached man she’d heard in the parlor.
Leaning her head against the cold stone around the door helped force her to stay her tears. “You should not be here. Go away.”
“Are you crying? Open this door.”
Admitting to herself she wanted to see him and know why he hadn’t defended her, Diana unbolted the door. Perhaps because the truth needed no defense. Marrying her could ruin him. She peeked out. Still in his evening clothes with his hair pulled back, he stopped her heart. “You should go to your own room.”
Forceful but gently, he pressed the door open without hurting her. He lifted her chin with his finger and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “What are you crying about?”
“I don’t want to tell you.” She sounded like a child and felt like an idiot. She might be able to do complex mathematics both on paper and in her head, but she was still a blithering idiot when her heart was breaking.
Jacques stepped inside the room and closed and bolted the door before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed. He sat with her in his lap and held her. “Are you sick, Diana? Shall I call for a doctor? I know the weather is bad, but if you are ill, I will find you a doctor.”
“I’m not ill.” Her tears started again and there was no stopping them. She buried her head in his soft white blouse and cried until she gulped air on every sob. She needed to cry. She was dying, but he was the last person in all of England she wanted to see her so low. She should be braver after all she’d survived, yet she was dying inside.
“If you are not sick, you are going to have to tell me what is wrong. Just a few hours ago you were happy and dancing. What happened?” He kissed her temple and hugged her tighter.
“You didn’t come back.” She gasped for air.
“I had a lot to think about, so I took a walk about the castle. Is that what upset you?”
Shaking her head, she clutched him around the neck and refused to look him in the eye. On a long breath out, she said, “I went looking for you.”
His hand stilled where it had been rubbing her back. “Where did you look?”
Speaking directly into the patch of his blouse that she’d made sopping with her tears, she said, “I went to your room.”
“Now I am very sorry, I took that walk. I should like to know what you would have done if I had been inside. Would my goddess have seduced me? I assure you there is no need to cry about it. I am certain I would have been in favor of such an initiation.” His lips were so soft where they touched her cheek.
“When you weren’t there, I went downstairs.”
He stiffened but didn’t release her. “You heard my conversation with Preston?”
Pushing away did her no good. He held her firmly, but without harming her. “I should have told you I was there or run away sooner. You should let me go, Jacques. Middleton is right. I can only bring you ruin. I’ve tried to tell you so, but then you’ve been so sweet. I just wanted something normal and good. Having you love me was a treat I couldn’t resist.”
“I do love you, Diana. That will never change.” He caressed her back again.
The sweetness of his goodbye was too hard to bear. The last thing Preston said as she was moving away from the parlor door rang in her ears. What if she was a traitor? Of course they still doubted her. “Let me go.”
Very slowly, Jacques released his hold on her. He placed her on the mattress and Diana wanted to die from the loss. She steeled herself for the moment he would walk out of her room and her life forever.
Her heart stopped when he knelt in front of her. “Listen to me very carefully, Diana. I will never let you go. Preston is my best friend, and he worries about me. He does not disapprove. Not in the way you think. He voiced his opinion and we nearly came to blows over it.”
“You did? I didn’t hear that.” She replayed the cold agreement from Jacques in her head.
“Then you abandoned your eavesdropping too soon.” He smiled. “If Preston disapproved, I would be sad, but it would not change my desire or my determination to be with you. However, if you had stayed longer you would have heard him say that he will love you like a sister.”
“He said that?” Her heart leaped
, and she had to swallow more tears, though this time they were happy tears.
“He did. My business will not suffer, and if it does, I will change my clientele. It won’t matter. I have enough to keep us quite comfortable for many years. Now, tell me what you had planned when you came to my room.” He pressed kisses to her hands where they lay in her lap.
It was impossible that this perfect man could want her. She slid from the bed and knelt with him. “I’m not really sure. I thought… I didn’t want to go to sleep on Christmas without saying good night.”
“Then I am honored.” He kissed her tear-streaked cheek.
Suddenly embarrassed by her hysteria, she put her hands over her eyes. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry for acting like such a ninny.”
He pulled her up with him as he stood. “Let me think. I got to carry you in my arms, sit with you in my lap, and hold you while you cried. I’d call that a full evening and not a bad one, from my perspective.”
It was impossible not to laugh, her cheeks were on fire. “Still, I should not have eavesdropped.”
“Perhaps not, but there is no harm done. Nothing I will ever say is a secret from you. I cannot control what other people say, and listening at doors often leads to misunderstandings.” He gently pushed her hair behind her ear.
At the gesture, so sweet and caring, Diana’s heart felt like it might burst. It also reminded her she likely had red, swollen eyes and nose. “I need to wash my face.”
When he stepped aside, she rushed to the washbowl and pitcher on the table. Splashing water on her face took some of the fantasy out of the last few moments. Jacques Laurent was in love with her. Truly and wonderfully in love. It was impossible to believe and yet it was real. “What made you come here tonight? You have not visited my room in over a week, and since you didn’t know I’d behaved like a ninny, why did you come?”
As she dabbed the water from her face with a towel, Jacques’s arms came around her waist. He pressed his body firmly against her back. He was hard in all the places she was soft, and they melded together in harmony. “I thought I had been issued an invitation after the waltz. Was I mistaken?”
Lord, so much had happened in just a few hours, she’d forgotten. The dancing in the parlor seemed like days ago. The space below her stomach tightened and she flushed from head to toe. The desire for Jacques overwhelmed any good sense. “You were not. It was an invitation.”
He nuzzled her neck. “I am so relieved to hear it. However, if the events of this evening have made you uneasy, Diana, I will wait for you. I have no desire to pressure you into anything you are ambiguous about.”
Turning pulled her out of his arms. The last thing she was unsure of was him. She had doubts about herself and her worthiness of his adoration, but he had always been sure and true. One at a time, she tugged the bows at her shoulders, and her nightdress slid down her body, pooling at her feet. Every place the soft material touched tingled with longing for Jacques’s hands and mouth. Standing naked before him, she should have been embarrassed, but the desire in his eyes emboldened her. “I am not ambiguous.”
The firelight glowed in his dark eyes with an intensity that might have frightened her when she was younger. Knowing Jacques would never harm her in any way assuaged any worry, leaving only desire in its place.
Jacques placed the back of his hand just under her throat and traced a path downward with his knuckles.
Diana’s breath hitched as his fingers passed between her breasts. Looking down, she followed his darker skin against her pale flesh as he touched her stomach, then lower, to the patch of hair between her legs. She let out the breath she’d been holding and shuddered as sparks of something new and wonderful lit inside her.
Instead of continuing, he placed his palm on her hip, then slid it to her waist and higher, cupping her breast. His thumb grazed her nipple.
She clutched his shoulder to keep her knees from buckling. “I’m off-balance.”
“Good. I would hate to be the only one.” Leaning down, he took her nipple in his mouth and suckled.
She wanted to scream and laugh at the same time. Knowing Honoria was sleeping just one room away kept her quiet, but it wasn’t easy. Despite her best efforts, the wondrous delight he caused with his mouth elicited a long moan as she dug her fingers into his back. She tried to find some stability as everything tipped out of control.
He released her breast, lifted her in his arms again, and carried her to the bed. He removed his blouse and shoes and stretched out next to her, running his fingers lightly from her neck to her thigh.
“I need to tell you.” It was difficult to get words out with him touching her so intimately.
“Tell me.” He kissed her shoulder, then just behind her ear.
“To get out of prison… I…” She drew a long breath. “I’m not a virgin.”
His fingers stilled.
Pushing up on her elbows, she reached for the blanket to cover herself.
“Diana, I have had little doubt about what you had to do to escape France. I am not a virgin either.” His smile put all her fears at ease.
Years of shame swamped her, but she let his words sink in. “You don’t mind?”
Threading his fingers through her hair at her nape left his palm at her cheek. He rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “I only mind that you have suffered, and gave away something you cherished. I cherish only you.”
“Most men would throw a woman back for being soiled.”
As another wave of shame threatened, he opened his mouth on hers and devoured her. His lips demanded and coaxed her to respond. Worries fled as his kisses addled her brain. Body on fire, wanting more, she pressed against him.
He broke away and trailed kisses down her jaw to her throat.
Each spot his lips touched caught on fire. When he reached her breast, she arched into him, longing for more.
“You are perfect. Please do not say such a thing again.” Jacques gripped her hip and continued his path down her body.
Unsure what to do with her hands, Diana reached for any part of him she could touch. She found his strong back, and when he pulled away to kiss her abdomen, she ran her fingers through his soft hair, pulling it free from its ribbon. As his head moved lower, his hair was silk against her skin.
He kissed lower and the sensation jolted her to sitting. “Jacques!”
“Shh, my love. Trust me.”
Diana eased back against the pillow and watched. Wanton and erotic, the sight was as stimulating as his kiss.
He slid his tongue between her folds and the sound that escaped her lips was nothing she’d ever uttered before. Lightning jolted through her core, waking every inch of her body. “Oh my God.”
Smiling against her thigh, he nudged her legs apart.
Writhing in a torturous ecstasy, Diana forgot who she was. The world and all the dangers in it faded away to nothing. There was only this soaring sensation created by Jacques’s lips. Fire rocketed through her. Gripping the bedding, she erupted in such wonder.
Then she was in his arms with him holding her tight and pressing his lips to her temple. She clung to his shoulders while waves of rapture washed over and through her. When she settled back to earth, she said, “That was—I have no idea what that was.”
His grin was wicked, and laughter shone in his eyes. “That, my love, is lovemaking.”
“Then this was my first time, and I’m so happy it was with you.” The stain of giving her body to gain her freedom lifted. Nothing about being with Jacques could compare to the quick, rough handling she’d known before.
“I am delighted to hear it.”
Suddenly shy, she couldn’t meet his gaze. “Can I give you the same pleasure?”
“Do you want to? We could just sleep and leave my satisfaction for another night. I am happy to have given you release.”
Releas
e was a good word for the glory he’d provided, yet there was more, and she wanted it all. “I want you. If I soar with angels all alone, then it is only half my pleasure.”
If she could have bottled the expression of tenderness and desire in Jacques’s eyes, she’d have drunk it every day for the rest of her life.
Lifting off the bed, he kept his gaze locked with hers. He removed his breeches and let them fall to the floor.
She knew she was staring. Despite her experience, she had never seen a man naked before. Jacques’s shaft stood proudly against his stomach, calling for her touch.
Rolling to her side, she reached out and touched the soft, warm flesh.
It jumped and a low moan pushed out from deep in Jacques’s chest. Dangerous and exciting, he was like a lion teased by a mouse. “Diana.”
She loved the way he said her name, his French accent rounding the vowels. She ran her palm from the base to the tip then gripped it full in her hand on the way down.
A long growl told her Jacques liked her touch, or he was about to devour her. Either way, the notion pooled delight between her legs. “You are quite beautiful.”
“You are driving me mad.”
Not sure if that was good or bad, she stilled. “Should I stop?”
He wrapped his hand around hers. “Not because I do not like it, but because I do not want this to end too soon.”
Lord, she wanted more of him, all of him. She longed to make him lose control as he had done to her. “It is more satisfying to please you than I would have imagined. I sound like an idiot.” She hid her face in the pillow.
The mattress sank as Jacques climbed back in the bed. The warmth of his skin against hers, from her shoulder to her toes, was like coming home. For a girl who had no home to speak of, it nearly brought her to tears.
Jacques ran his hand along her throat, cupped her cheek and coaxed her to face him. “You most definitely do not sound like an idiot. It is gratifying to give pleasure when emotions and feelings run deep. I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful than watching you climax.”
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