Captain and Countess Page 11
“They wouldn’t need to know. I could visit here, tell them you’re instructing me in music. I’d leave everything here with you, so they’d never find out.”
Bess gazed into the girl’s face. So full of enthusiasm, so like her own passions before she surrendered them to wedded bliss. How could she have such a gift as creating stories out of nothing but imagination and refuse to share it with someone else so young and eager?
“What say we give it a try?” she said. “Writing’s a lot of work, you know.”
“Oh, thank you!” Lily threw her arms around Bess’s shoulders. When Anna gave her a exasperated look, she could only smile back and shrug.
Anna rose from her chair. “In the meantime, the others are waiting for you to depart.”
“I’d best go, then. I wouldn’t want them to come looking and discover something.” Lily went to the door and opened it.
Captain Northcross stood on the other side, his hand raised to knock. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all. I was just coming to look for you,” Lily said.
“Go along, then,” he said. He waited until Lily and Anna had left and then stood, toying with the brim of his hat. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Bess straightened and folded her hands in front of her skirt. “You’re most welcome.”
“Please, feel invited to Hollyfield. Whenever you’d like to visit.” For a moment, his gaze lingered on her bosom as it had off and on all evening. Enough of the low-cut bodices for her.
“Thank you,” she replied.
Finally, he lifted his attention to her face, smiled, and bowed. “Good evening.”
“Good evening.” She curtseyed. Why in bloody hell not?
He placed his hat on his head, turned and left, sucking much of the air out of the room when he left.
Chapter Seven
When their little party returned from Carlton House, Jason found Grace waiting in the entryway of Hollyfield. As lovely as ever, his sister-in-law gave them all a welcoming smile but aimed a more pointed look at Jason. He’d seen that expression before. She had something to tell him, and given her keen mind and perceptiveness for human nature, he always listened. He stood back and let the others greet her.
Thomas immediately went to his wife and planted a kiss on her forehead. “It’s late. You should be in bed.”
She looped her hand around Thomas’s and pressed her lips to his cheek. “You know I don’t sleep well with you gone.”
“Then you should have come with us,” Thomas said. “It was a thoroughly tolerable evening.”
“I’d say so,” Grace said. “You stayed late enough.”
“It was wonderful,” Lily said as she removed her bonnet. “Delicious food and lively conversation.”
“Much of it with me as the target,” Peter said. “Lady Rushford’s friend has a sharp wit.”
“You deserved every barb,” Jason said. “You went out of your way to provoke her.”
“Perhaps.” Peter shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over his arm. “She wore me out, in any case. Good night to you all.”
“And you,” Jason answered as his friend climbed the stairs.
Lily took Grace’s hands in hers. “Thomas and Lady Rushford sang the most beautiful duet. You should have heard them.”
“Mozart,” Thomas said. “The lady can sing.”
Indeed, she could. The sound of her voice still rang in his memory. Not just pleasant but unrestrained and full of honest joy. Anyone listening would have to feel completely enchanted by both the song and the singer.
“Not only that, but Lady Rushford has a keen interest in science. She understood my theories of human development in utero and, I rather fancy, agreed with them,” Thomas said.
Grace glanced at Jason. “She did?”
“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Jason said. “But she survived the explanations well enough.”
“She’s an excellent female,” Thomas declared. “I hope we see a great deal more of her.”
Given the lady’s bodice and Thomas’s observation that Jason had spent too much time looking at it, Thomas might have put that last comment a bit differently. In fact, seeing more of her held entirely too much appeal.
“She and I became friends. She’s truly the most wonderful of women,” Lily said. “That is, next to you, of course, Grace.”
“I’m family,” Grace said. “I don’t count.”
“You certainly do,” Thomas said.
“Grace knows what I mean,” Lily said.
“Of course, she does, pet,” Jason said. “Now, off to bed with you.”
“Good night.” Lily fairly danced to the foot of the stairs. “I have a great deal to think about. I hope I dream.”
With that, she climbed the steps with more than her usual grace. Something had happened between her and Lady Rushford, most likely just before Jason had found her in the library. Whatever it was obviously made her happy, so he could thank the lady for that. Of course, thanking her would be a great deal easier if he could stop wanting her every second they were together.
Thomas put his arm around Grace. “Shall we wander off to sleep, too?”
“In a moment, dear. I want to speak to Jason.”
“Well enough,” Thomas said. “While you do, I’ll limber my fingers on the violin.”
“Not tonight again, please,” she said.
Thomas’s brow went up. “No?”
“It is a bit loud, old fellow,” Jason said.
“All right. I’ll find something to read to the baby.” Thomas patted Grace’s stomach. “Aristotle, or maybe Caesar.”
“I’m sure he’d like that,” Grace said.
“I’m off, then.” Thomas also went upstairs, leaving Jason alone with his sister-in-law.
“Something wrong?” he said.
“Not exactly. Well, perhaps a bit. I suppose I might as well say it directly.” Grace paused. “Lady Deauville is waiting for you in the study.”
“She is?”
Grace leaned toward him, even though no one else stood close enough to overhear. “She’s not completely dressed.”
“The devil, you say. Has she been drinking?”
“I wish it were that simple. She went to bed earlier and got up when there was a knock on the door. She threw on a robe over her night rail and has been waiting for you in that state ever since.”
Interesting. Grace’s manner didn’t seem upset enough to call her worried, but something had concerned her to the point where she’d told the tale rather like Thomas might—all the facts but with too little context to make sense of the substance.
“Back up and take this a step at a time,” he said. “Lady Deauville had gone to bed.”
“The evening went calmly enough. I was in my room and couldn’t hear clearly what went on below. Everything sounded fine.”
“Then, everyone retired,” he prompted.
“Yes. A bit later, there was a knock at the door. A stranger had been riding by when his horse threw him,” Grace said. “Lady Deauville took charge—in her robe, as I’ve told you.”
That wasn’t so unusual, really. No one waited until they’d had a chance to put on all their clothing to answer a late-night knock. He had asked her to act as hostess, rather than put the burden on Grace. Still, nothing involving Sarah could be safely taken at face value.
“She offered him shelter, as anyone would do, and then asked me to have you speak to her as soon as you arrived home,” Grace said.
“She’s in the study, you said.”
“Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and yet . . .”
“Think, Grace. You know I trust your judgment.”
“I had the oddest feeling.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth for a moment. “That she wasn’t entirely surprised to see the visitor.”
“Really?”
“She acted as though she was.” Grace paused again, her brow furrowed. “Actually, they seemed to know each other, t
hough none of the rest of us recognized him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Montgomery,” she said. “Mister Robert, no Roger.”
“Montgomery,” he repeated. That fellow from the opera, the one who’d annoyed Lady Rushford so badly. Quite a coincidence he’d show up here, if it was a coincidence.
“Do you know him?”
“We may have met. Is he elegant in an understated sort of way? Dark hair, white at the temples?”
“You’ve described him perfectly.”
“I see.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Is he trouble?”
“I imagine we’ll find out.”
“I should have sent him away.”
“You couldn’t do that,” he said. “Go to Thomas. I’ll see to Lady Deauville.”
“Take care,” Grace said. “I hate to say it, but I’m not sure her interest in you is entirely innocent.”
“I’ll be fine.” He brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Go on to bed.”
Grace disappeared up the stairs, and Jason went to the door of the study. He paused outside for a moment. He and Sarah hadn’t been alone together since their last tryst before he’d left for India. Now she waited for him in the next room, late at night and not fully dressed. She’d already planted the idea that they were having an affair in the mind of his sister-in-law. Not knowing Grace well, she might be hoping that Grace would help to spread a rumor about the two of them that would sour his chances with Miss Swan and the other young ladies.
If she could maneuver her way back into his bed tonight, she’d have accomplished two goals. And then, if she’d had something to do with Montgomery’s arrival, she’d created a masterpiece of manipulation with a few strokes. Any man with a brain in his head stopped to gird his loins a bit before facing so formidable an opponent. Finally, he lifted his hand and tapped softly on the door.
“Come in,” her voice answered from the other side.
He let himself in and closed the door behind him. She stood by the hearth, bathed in light from the dying fire. A lit candelabra on the mantle illuminated her hair, making it shine like gold. How many times had he seen her like this? How many times had he congratulated himself on seducing such a creature while being so young and inexperienced? Only later had he realized that she’d been the seducer, not he. No matter. Those encounters had taught him a lot, and they had felt so bloody good at the time.
“There you are, darling,” she said. “Did you have a good time?”
“Quite. You?”
She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “Some of your guests are tedious. I managed well enough.”
“Thank you for that.”
“I suppose Lady Hadleigh told you about our visitor.” She turned toward him to reveal that she’d opened the top buttons of her night rail and had allowed her robe to slip down over one shoulder. Such modest bed clothing didn’t allow for too much exposed skin, but she’d done the best she could, under the circumstances, to signal her availability. She’d be completely naked underneath.
“I was loathe to invite someone into your house, but there seemed no alternative,” she said.
“Montgomery,” he said.
“Yes, that’s his name.”
“The same Montgomery we encountered at the opera in London.”
She raised a hand to her lips. “That’s how I knew him. He said he’d made my acquaintance, but I couldn’t place him.”
A lie, of course. She knew perfectly well who he was, but there was no point arguing with her about it.
“He seemed pleasant enough at the time,” she said. “I’m sure he’s a gentleman.”
Well could she say that. Jason had gotten the opposite impression. Not that the man was utterly without manners, but that he’d imposed himself where he clearly wasn’t welcome. He may have done it again this evening.
“I hope you don’t mind that I offered to put him up,” Sarah said.
“You could hardly have done anything else.”
“I’m relieved.” She sighed, as if she’d been truly concerned at how Jason would take the news. “There is one small problem, though.”
Of course. There would have to be something.
“He was injured in the fall. His ankle. I don’t think it’s broken,” she said. “But it could take time to heal.”
Hell and damnation. She really had backed him into a corner. Whatever she and Montgomery had worked out between them, they now had ample time to work their mischief—Sarah on Jason and Montgomery on Lady Rushford. Perhaps he should have prevailed on Grace to act as hostess. Or he should have refused the invitation to Carlton House. Or he should have banished Sarah and her daughter when they first showed up. Unfortunately, he couldn’t have done any of those things, and now he was stuck with the consequences.
“We’ll send for a doctor in the morning,” he said.
“I doubt that’s necessary,” she said. “He’ll heal well enough in time.”
“I’d prefer to feel safe on that account.”
“As you wish.” She walked toward him slowly, her gaze constantly on his as her hips swung in a sensuous dance. She really was a startling beauty, the sort of woman who only grew more lovely with age. Only a fool would turn down what she was offering. He hadn’t worried about her marriage during their brief affair. Why should he now? And he hadn’t proposed to any of the young ladies yet.
When she reached him, she placed a palm on his chest and looked up into his face. “It’s late. Everyone else is asleep.”
“As we should be.”
She bit her lower lip in a provocative manner. He’d known those lips on many occasions, sometimes kissing them and sometimes feeling them circle the tip of his member. The cursed thing responded now, growing thick in his pants. He’d just spent hours aching for Lady Rushford. Priapus would naturally ready himself for any woman after that ordeal, and this one was offering herself so brazenly.
“You can’t have forgotten how good we were together,’ she said.
“I haven’t.”
“That time by the river. That warm night,” she said. “Remember?”
“One doesn’t forget that sort of thing.”
“You were so proud of yourself, making me spend like that.”
“I was young and clumsy,” he said. “I’d never done it for a woman before.”
“You and your magnificent tool.” She put her hand on the front of his pants. “You’re already erect, my darling.”
He clenched his teeth in a fruitless effort to hold off the need, the spiral of excitement swirling inside him. Still, he couldn’t force himself to push her away, and she continued stroking him through his clothing and squeezing gently.
Oh, bloody hell, why not? He reached for her, pulling her hard against him. His lips found hers without any conscious thought, and in a heartbeat, he was kissing her with all the pent-up hunger months of celibacy had built.
Bess. The word, the name exploded in his brain. That tiny bundle of passion and honesty. The plush curves. He couldn’t have her, so he’d take this pale imitation. She’d have to do.
Sarah pulled back, holding his face in her hands. “Oh, Jason. Such passion.”
“I—”
“Shhh.” She pressed her thumb over his lips. “It’s all right.”
All right? How could it be all right? She wanted this as much as he did, didn’t she? Or did she?
She smiled at him easily, her eyes unclouded by lust or anything like it. Both times he’d kissed Bess, she’d yielded instantly, becoming as fully aroused as he was. They’d both nearly crossed the invisible line to inevitability. But this woman—one he’d known the way a man knows his wife—seemed unmoved, despite all the effort she’d put into getting him to this point.
“Is something wrong?” she said.
“No.” He gently grasped her arms and put her away from him. “That is, yes.”
“What, darling?” she said. “You want me. I can see it in your eyes
.”
But she didn’t want him. Not really. Not the way Bess had. Nor the woman he’d left behind in India, either, to be perfectly honest. He and Gandha had never loved each other, but at least they’d made love as though they meant it.
Had Sarah faked everything, even that first orgasm? No, he’d felt her sex convulse around his, but somehow, none of their encounters had ever been important to her. She’d looked on him as some kind of prize. A younger man she could make desire her.
“Jason.” She tried to step into his embrace again, but he held her off, firmly but gently.
“No, Sarah. It’s wrong,” he said. “You have a husband, and I’ll soon have a wife.”
“Not the Swan chit.”
“Possibly. I haven’t decided.”
“That silly little virgin,” she said. “You’ll have to teach her everything.”
“Someone had to teach you.” Had Deauville done that? He hardly seemed the type to have a great deal of skill in bed. But then, one never knew.
“She won’t satisfy you,” Sarah said. “You’ll want me back, but I may not take you.”
“Do what you have to do, Sarah. With my blessing.”
“I don’t want your blessing. I want that beautiful rod in your pants.”
“But you don’t. Not really.” Not the way he constantly craved the woman who’d just entertained him with her song. “I’m not sure exactly what you’re after, but I won’t find out tonight. I’m off to bed.”
*
“It’s all my fault.” Bess pushed her breakfast away, leaving half of it uneaten. “I’m so sorry.”
“You say Miss Northcross found the current chapter lying on the desk?” Rose asked.
“I left it there. So careless. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Bess said. That last was no more than a figure of speech, because she knew very well what had occupied her mind when she should have been putting their work into a secure place. She’d been thinking about the visit from the viscount’s family, including her new “friend” Jason Northcross.
“Now she wants to collaborate with us,” Anna said. “It seems she reads Jack Sterling. She loves him . . . um, us.”
Rose worried her lower lip for a moment. “Will she expose us, do you think?”