“Yes, I do. I do not consider you a suitor, but perhaps you could assist me in a risqué project?” The decadence she experienced at her request should have warned her. What would he think? What harm could come of it with her maid in tow?
“I rather fancy such projects.” He grinned. “What am I to do?” He patted her hand.
Jaclyn turned back to glance at the servant and winked. The woman slowed her pace and gave them a head start yet kept them in full view, as was her duty.
Jaclyn tilted her head to him, her smile a deliberate invitation. “I’d like you to teach me how to kiss a man.”
The shocked expression on Halifax’s face amused Jaclyn. It titillated her to see his broad grin emerge as if he hadn’t believed her words. However, something inside cautioned that perhaps she meant something other than he seemed to understand. Her mind said pucker, but the display of his wet lips and tongue were not what she had in mind. Her desire was for Wolferton’s dazzling kiss, but Halifax’s held a slobber. Goodness, what had she done?
“Miss Moreux, to accommodate your request, there has to be a degree of—shall we say—desire in the effort. One doesn’t smack lips together and expect euphoria. Proper examples of kisses require seamless exploration between the male and female. All the senses are involved.” He gesticulated with his free hand. “Touch, scent, sight, taste, and the sound of sweet words to your ears meant to titillate. I’m afraid this stroll does not lend itself to such endeavors. Timing is everything, and I regret now is not the right moment.”
“When would that be?” Jaclyn asked, not able to lock her eyes to him and fussing with her reticule.
“If we met at a dance and I pre-arranged an assignation place, we should have at least an hour before anyone would miss us.” He paused in their stroll. “I would beg the question of you, though. Why don’t you ask your guardian to demonstrate his world-renowned talents at seduction?”
“I didn’t ask about seduction, only the art of a kiss. To answer you, Wolferton wouldn’t consent to it. Let’s clarify. Merely, I want to learn how to pucker.”
His riotous laugh annoyed her.
“Pucker? My dear Miss Moreux, how quaint. Part of the amour is to be seduced with words, not buffoonish bodily movements. All comes later as a matter of consequence. One thing leads to the other.”
“I fear you mock me, Lord Halifax. Kindly forget my dereliction of propriety.” She removed her arm from his.
He took it back. “When and where is the next dance in which you will be in attendance?”
“I believe it’s in two weeks at the home of the Standishes. I’ll be with Camille and Radolf… Wolferton. I sometimes forget to address him properly.”
“Miss Moreux, you play with me, and that is a mistake. You just referred to your guardian by his given name—a most intimate gesture. Have you…”
“I don’t understand what your question is but I assume it is none of your business. How dare you make such a presumption?” What else could she say? She saw a disaster loom in the distance since she had been so wrong to broach the silly subject. Halifax’s flamboyant nature would not allow the practice of feminine wiles without consequences.
“I do have to leave London to travel north on business in a week, but I will make it my business to return before the ball. It will give me time to scheme our meeting.”
She hesitated. “Go on your trip and do not hurry back on my account. My request was ridiculous, and I did withdraw it.”
“It would be ungentlemanly of me not to grant your request. Speak no more. I’ll attempt to see you before I leave. I am the most discreet man when necessary. No one will know. I shall tell you no further since it is better for us. All you have to do is attend the ball and be your beautiful self.”
“I make myself clear that I no longer have an interest. In fact, I should like to return home. Sir, you are not a gentleman.”
“Allow me to refute your statement. I am more of a gentleman than your guardian. One moment please, let’s stroll across the street.” He pointed to a seat, and she sat. The maid sat at a bench farthest away from them.
“There are stories about Wolferton’s impregnation of a servant girl, and when she informed him of the inconvenient event, he threw her out on the street to fend for herself.”
Wide eyes stared at him. “I don’t believe you.” The expression of disbelief thrilled him.
“Then you should ask his worship why he escaped to the military at age twenty-one when her family came to him. He removed himself a country away. I dare you to inquire.” His voice remained calm and assured. Of course, he was positive she wouldn’t ask for she still seemed infatuated with her guardian. Halifax didn’t tell a lie. He told a half-truth, but it pleased him she absorbed every word. The truth woven with lies became even more powerful. Someone impregnated the girl. Most likely Wolferton’s father, but this version served Halifax’s purpose.
She gazed into the distance at a swan on the lake. Halifax followed her glance. “Such a beautiful sight, as are you Miss Moreux. I apologize if I’ve destroyed your fine fantasies about Wolferton. I could tell you so much more, but I won’t since it appears to upset you.”
She arose, called to her maid, “We leave now. Please keep up.”
Halifax placed his hands behind his back and simply smiled.
“What are your thoughts right now? You are plotting something,” Jaclyn said in a harsh tone.
“No, I’m just thinking about pounding nails in a coffin.” He envisioned the sight in his mind, and it gave him gratification.
“I don’t understand.” She wrinkled her brow.
“It’s nothing important, my dear Miss Moreux. Just a manner of speech. Until we meet again. We should return you to your home.”
Chapter Sixteen
The Scheme
Alone in her room, sunlight waning, Jaclyn reached for her quill and looked out to the distance. Her thoughts jumbled with misgivings. As she started to write, her hand trembled and writing became jagged. She arose to calm herself. Went to the window and opened the sash for fresh air. How could she tell a truth from a lie?
She moved back to her desk, sat, and wrote.
Halifax accused Wolferton of dire actions with young women. Can it be true? Does he have bastard children all over the world? Could I be so wrong about this guardian of mine?
She closed the book and returned it to the desk drawer. Determined to find her school girlfriend, she asked Camille if she could come along on the venture with her maid, Sedona, as a chaperone.
“I do have an appointment with the florist and confectionery providers in fifteen minutes. Can you wait?”
“I could.” Jaclyn clasped her hands in her lap. “In actuality, there are some things I’d like to research. For one, I have the name of the premier cordwainer in London. My friend, Josette’s father, sells fine leather boots and also dancing slippers for ladies in a combination of kid leather and silk. He sent a pair to his daughter for her birthday, and I’d like to purchase a pair or two for my social engagements. Will you approve?”
“Of course, you do have your allowance and are free to use it for your personal needs. I know you are not extravagant.” She raised her head and gave a smile.
Jaclyn arose. “I can see you are busy, so I’ll run upstairs and work on my journal. Somewhere I do have the address. Yes, it’s in my reticule.” With a deft hand, she found the parchment. “I believe the ladies shoe manufacturer is at No. 47 Cornhill and known to all in London circles.”
Jaclyn turned to leave. “On second thought, because you have much on your mind, we could wait for another day. Either way, I’ll be in my room. Are you sure I can’t help you? I have more than enough time.” Much too much on my hands and I need to find something substantial to occupy me.
Camille shook her head, “Fortunately, everything is in order. Let’s see how this day evolves.
She waited to obtain Camille’s opinions. Jaclyn wanted the dancing slippers, but she needed to find Jo
sette Dupree. “Patience,” she muttered. “There are times I should learn such a virtue.”
Jaclyn scampered up the steps to her room, closed her door, and went to her desk. She inserted the key into the draw lock and removed her journal to place it on the desk. Opening it to a bookmarked page, Jaclyn took her quill and started to write.
I’m alone in my room and have decided not to meet with Lord Halifax should he come to call. Whatever possessed me to agree to have him assist in the search for dancing slippers? I blush now as I think of my inappropriate request for kissing lessons. I need to find Josette to see if they are in residence in London. Oh, it would be wonderful to see her and chat the way we used to like magpies.
There was a tap to the door and she assumed it was Camille. “Enter,” she said.
Halbert walked into the room and advised that Lord Halifax awaited her in the drawing room.
She jumped from her chair. “Sweet heaven, Halbert. I wasn’t aware it was an actual appointment. He inferred to it, but I don’t recall agreeing. Kindly inform him that I am indisposed at the moment due to a prior appointment with Lady Hattersley.” She touched her chignon at the nape of her neck. “Oh, Halbert, I’m making a mess of this. Just tell him whatever is proper and that I will send him a note of apology.”
“Very well, Miss Moreux, leave it in my hands and I shall show him to the door.”
“With grace and charm,” she added, “As fits his station.”
“With proper etiquette, as he deserves,” he corrected with a sly curl to his mouth.
She grinned from ear to ear.
Upon his closing the door, she ran to her desk and the journal. A dip of the quill into the ink refreshed the tip. Dear Diary, I do not wish to find any suitors. Nor do I wish to marry anyone who is pre-approved by Wolferton. I wish to marry for love…and only love. Perhaps when Camille and I are alone together, I can ask for her help? I know she will understand, but how will I find the words to tell Wolferton? Why do I wear my heart on my sleeve?
I need to talk to Josette about feminine wiles.
A knock sounded on the door. She wrote a few more words to finish her thoughts. She arose quickly since it could be Camille.
Halbert walked in, advised her he’d sent Lord Halifax away, and that Miss Camille regretted that their joint visit would have to wait for another time.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “Is she alone yet?”
“The milliner arrived unexpectedly with special samples.”
“There is so much fuss for an engagement that may not occur.”
Jaclyn hadn’t meant to speak so freely, but she knew Halbert was the soul of discretion. Besides she held a fondness for him.
Chapter Seventeen
Wicked Implications
Later that afternoon, Jaclyn sought out Halbert. Descending the steps, she found him in the lower foyer giving instructions to a footman who left in a hurry. “Where is Loup?”
“With His Grace,” he answered.
She went to his study door and listened at his commands to the animal. At least, she assumed it was to Loup. “Sit. Stand. Halt.”
She tapped and asked if she could enter. He opened the door to allow her entry which surprised her.
Loup jumped at the sight of her. “Down,” Wolferton said with a stern voice. The pup looked admonished and stayed at the side of the duke. “Good boy,” he whispered as he patted the dog’s head. “He learns well. Soon he will be ready for additional work.”
But there was another much larger dog that sat at attention. Wolferton pointed to the beautiful blue-eyed animal with sleek fur. “This is Kort, Loup’s sire. I had him sent in from my country estate so he could help with the pup’s education.” With a pointed twist of two fingers, Kort lay down.
“Where has the dog been all this time?” she asked.
“Recuperating at my country estate. His foot was mangled in a trap. We almost lost him. I had a footman bring him here to help Loup. He will travel back and forth with me now, the way he used to.” He smiled at the dog. “Isn’t that so, Kort? It’s a Turkish name I’ve given him.”
She exhaled. “Loup and I will go into the drawing room to see if Camille is finished with planning my unwanted season.”
Wolferton paused and turned.
Pleased that the statement got his attention, she continued. “Your Grace, can we not discuss my future some time without having the word ‘suitor’ in the conversation?”
She noticed his shoulders stiffen as he spoke. “Are you unhappy with the preparations, or are you unhappy with the idea of a suitable match?”
“I am unhappy that you want to marry me off so quickly. How can I decide anything? Do you dislike me and your obligation to my father?”
He gestured to a chair, but she stood taller, raising her heels.
“What prattle is this? What makes you think I dislike you? What have I done or said?”
“Sometimes, Your Grace, it’s what you don’t say.”
Uncomfortable at the confrontation, she turned to Loup. “I have a treat for you. Come to me.”
The dog looked at Wolferton, who nodded, and Loup followed with a quick gait alongside Jaclyn. She took a smoked bacon treat out of her pocket. He sat at attention, and she offered it to him.
“Eat,” Wolferton commanded. The dog snapped at the morsel.
“I wish you to realize where your loyalties lie, Loup.” She turned to Wolferton. “Shouldn’t I be involved in your training my dog?” She exhaled and bit her lip.
“I assumed you were too busy and that you would appreciate a dog who responds to your every command. If I was incorrect, I apologize.” He turned his back to her. Here he was again controlling everything about her, even her dog. How could he make this up to her?
“Will Kort bite my finger if I offer him one?” Jaclyn asked.
“No, but he will not accept any food unless I allow it. He and I spent much time in Turkey where poison was a known commodity for the murder of man or beast.” He extended his hand for one of her treats, snapped his fingers, and Kort came to him and sat, his eyes directed to the bacon bit in Wolferton’s hand. Another snap of his fingers and the animal took the morsel and ate it quickly.
“Loup is a smart animal and his training has progressed well. Perhaps you should sit in the next few lessons. It will also give us time to discuss your unhappiness.” There, he spoke the words and offered an olive branch.
“One of these days, Wolferton, you should tell me about your past war escapades,” she stated in a deliberate, cool tone.
“Escapades? War does not involve reckless adventure. The word denotes a disregard for authority. Perhaps you should consult with a dictionary? Why would you want to know any more about me than you do? Such a curious question.” He arose and strode toward her. “Have you heard something that troubles you?” His hands were clasped behind his back, his stance ramrod straight, and imperial. “Tell me, Jaclyn. Are you frightened of me? I see that you’ve stepped back. You can’t believe I would ever hurt you.”
“Perhaps it’s because you raised your voice and your stance is authoritative. Your expression threatens. You’ve never spoken to me in that tone.”
“War and all it represents is horrific in so many ways, I could not begin to explain.”
“No, Wolferton. You’ve mentioned your tours in Turkey, and I find the subject a fascination. Perhaps I should borrow a book from your library. Can you recommend any?” With lowered lashes, she broke eye contact from his imperious gaze.
She muttered to herself. Damn Halifax and his insinuations of licentiousness whenever he spoke of Wolferton.
“Did you say something?” he asked in a softer tone.
Jaclyn shook her head.
“Yes, I’ll select them myself for you. I do have a love of most things Turkish.”
“Even its women?” The words escaped her lips, and she could not recall them. Cognicent of her downright disrespectfulness, her hand clasped her mouth, but she averted his gaze.
“Yes, I said most things Turkish. This includes its men, women, customs, and culture. Does it bother you?”
She raised a hand to her lips as if to hush any words, and stammered, “No, it’s that I’m confused about something, and I should research it.” Without a thought, she tried to manufacture a reason for such an outburst. The unholy fact was she was jealous of a former life he led, who he might have led it with, and who he might have held in his arms. “I’d like to know more about Turkish fashions, Wolferton. It’s nothing more than that. Please excuse me. I must find Camille.”
Sweet heaven, her face had to be redder than a sugar beet. She left his presence as quick as her legs would carry her. “Come, Loup.”
Jaclyn and Loup walked along the corridor. She spoke to the dog, “I don’t want to marry just anyone. Why is life so difficult? I wish my father were here. He’d know what to do. Halifax fills my head with negative thoughts. Papa would not have appointed Wolferton as my guardian if he were not honorable. Something does not ring true, Loup. I’m sure that Halifax’s motives are meant to influence me as to Wolferton’s good character.”
They entered the drawing room where Camille entertained people unknown to Jaclyn.
“Jaclyn, I’m glad you returned so soon. I’d like to introduce you to Lord Fitzhugh and his sister, Lady Priscilla. They will attend the Standish ball on Thursday.” Both arose to greet her.
Jaclyn curtsied. “My pleasure, my Lord, and Lady.” She plastered a smile on her face.
“Would you care for tea?” Camille asked, as they exchanged pleasantries.
Jaclyn nodded. Tea would do her good. Loup lay at her side, his large head on his paws.
“Do you like animals?” asked Fitzhugh.
“Yes. His Grace gifted me with this marvelous hound, and he is now in Wolferton’s capable hands to train.” She laughed, but her heart was heavy as the elephant on her chest. “Better said, I have grown up without family most of my life and am in love with all creatures, but especially dogs. Their loyalty is dependable.”
The duke walked into the room and greeted everyone. “Sorry to have kept you, Fitzhugh.” He smiled at Lady Priscilla, who brightened at the sight of him and fussed with her brooch. “I see you’ve met my ward, Miss Moreux. She certainly lights our lives. Isn’t it so, Camille?”
The Blue-Eyed Black-Hearted Duke Page 8