Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

L ady Jenna Hawkins felt wretched, as if she had failed her mother's every expectation as she slipped through the crowd and all but ran down the hallway of Lady Clementine's townhouse. The ball had been enjoyable until Lord Davidson mentioned he would call upon her father tomorrow to make an offer for her hand. Jenna had almost been charmed by his earnestness, and there had been only indifference in his gaze. By chance, several minutes later, she overheard him say to his friend that while she was remarkably pretty, there was another debutante he found more alluring, but Jenna owned the fattest dowry. It was her ill luck that he heard her stricken gasp, and he had the audacity to pursue her through the crushed ballroom to offer an explanation.

Lord Davidson tried to speak with her; however, Jenna danced away, laughing and chatting with her friends, ignoring the earl. His frustration grew with each thwarted attempt, and he had acted most indiscreetly a few moments prior, causing a stir. Jenna had little choice but to escape his pursuit, and the dratted man followed. She grabbed the edges of her ballgown and sprinted down the hallway. Jenna barely made it into a room before he appeared in her view.

"Drat," she whispered, her heart pounding. "Did he see me?"

She closed the door with a snick and dropped her forehead against the smooth wood. How could an evening that had been so delightful now feel horrible? Jenna lurched back when the knob rattled.

"Lady Jenna," Lord Davidson called. "Please open the door and allow me to explain my words. I do not wish for this misunderstanding to exist between us."

She fisted her hands at her sides but refused to answer him or open the door.

"I know you are inside, Lady Jenna. Please open the door."

Still, she kept silent. He remained insistent, and to her horror, it sounded as if the earl was trying to use some means to open the door. It was entirely possible to pick a lock, as she had been learning the skill from the highly secretive ladies' club she had recently joined. Jenna could not be caught alone with Lord Davidson! Surely, he would use it to his advantage and trap her into marriage.

Refusing to stay in the room and wait to see if he would enter, Jenna rushed toward the window and shoved it open. Oddly, it stopped halfway, and despite using all her strength, it would budge no further. Huffing out a sharp breath, Jenna decided to climb through. She slipped one leg over the sill, bent over low, and started to ease forward, only to find herself stuck.

"Oh, dear," she gasped, stricken.

Jenna tried to move forward and, for some wretched reason, could not move. She attempted to slither back into the room and found it was the same challenge. Panic clawed at her when the doorknob fiercely rattled.

"Surely I will not be found by that blackguard in this position!"

The very notion almost sent her into a faint.

A hand touched her hip, and a low voice said, "Let me help you."

Jenna froze, so shocked for a moment she could not breathe. Her heart was beating in a slow, ponderous rhythm that threatened to choke her. She inhaled sharply, a much-needed breath and a warm scent invaded her body. "Are you … a real person?"

"What other types are there?" the voice asked, rich with amusement.

"There are ghosts ," she choked out. "Where … where did you come from?"

"I was sitting in the dark contemplating the oddities of life when you dashed into my awareness."

Oh! "You could have made your presence known, sir."

A low sound of amusement came from him. "Then I would have missed the delightful show."

Before she could respond, the stranger gently but firmly shoved the window upward and helped her maneuver through it. With his assistance, Jenna managed to slip through and land lightly on the soft grass below. She looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man climb through the window with ease, his movements fluid and controlled. The shadows in the back garden were so deep she could not discern his features. It was inescapable that she was in an even more secluded space with an unknown man.

"Who are you?" Jenna asked, still trying to catch her breath. She noticed that her hands were shaking a little, and she drew two more deep breaths.

The dark shadow peered at her for a few beats. "Viscount Sallis, at your service," he replied with a courteous bow.

He took a single step closer, and her heart lurched.

"My lord, you must not stand so close to me!"

"Why not?"

Her nerves felt tightly drawn. "It is scandalous ."

His low laugh sounded entirely too sensual. "I am a scandalous gentleman."

That unrepentant drawl startled her for a moment. Jenna also became aware that she could step back. He should not be that close to her. She knew it, yet she couldn't retreat.

"Are you admitting to being a libertine? That … that means I should not be out here with you alone," she said softly, more to herself than the viscount.

"I have a need to enjoy the fresh air, and I can see that you do too, Lady Jenna. I promise there is no need to run away inside. You will always be safe with me."

"I … I am safe with you?"

"Yes, Lady Jenna, upon my honor, I promise this."

How absurd that he could promise and expect her to believe him. She stared helplessly at his implacable reply, wondering what to do now. She realized he would have heard the earl calling her name, for Jenna certainly never met the viscount before. A young lady should not linger in the presence of rakes and libertines but dash madly away from them. Jenna did not wish to return to the ballroom, her mother's expectations and the earl's pursuit.

Lord Sallis turned around and dragged the window down, closing it.

"Your pursuer has entered the room," he said softly. "Do you want me to do away with him?"

Why does that sound so ominous?

She took a halting step toward the window. Lord Davidson had indeed entered. Why was he so persistent? Hopefully it would not occur to him that she had fled through the window. Jenna moved from the window and hastened toward the darker alcove, hoping if he had the idea to peek out, she would not be visible.

Somehow, she sensed that Viscount Sallis followed. Jenna swallowed, her heart still racing from the unexpected encounter and the sheer recklessness of being alone with a gentleman. Jenna sat on a stone bench, acutely aware of the viscount's presence. He stood by the fountain, his head canting as if he listened to see if the earl followed. How she wished to make out his features. A crescent moon hung low in the sky, but it did little to suppress the dark shadows of the night. Lord Sallis's broad shoulders and tall frame exuded an air of confidence and arrogance that intrigued and unsettled her.

Why was she not fleeing inside?

"I do not believe he is following," the viscount said. "Perhaps he accepted that you were not in the room."

A relieved sigh escaped Jenna, and Lord Sallis turned to face her.

"Why does the earl hound you?"

Jenna tightened her fingers on the edges of the stone bench. "He wishes to court me."

"Court you for marriage?"

"There are other types of courtship?"

"How innocent," he murmured.

She felt her cheeks warm under his regard. Surely, he could not see her, yet she could feel the intensity of his stare. Jenna delicately cleared her throat. "It is a marriage that Lord Davidson is after."

"That is not the way to go about it," he said drily. "Beauty has always had the power to turn men into fools. Still, it is no excuse for his behavior."

Startled, she stared at him. "Lord Davidson was more drawn to my dowry. I suspected it, but I was in denial until I overheard his words that confirmed my suspicions."

Stillness flowed over the viscount, and silence stretched between them for several beats.

Jenna cleared her throat, feeling oddly unbalanced. "Thank you for your helping me through the window. I apologize for interrupting the solace you found in pondering the peculiarities of life."

"On the contrary," he replied, his tone lightly mocking, "I rather enjoy a bit of excitement. It keeps life from becoming dreadfully dull. Would you like a drink?"

She blinked, feeling bemused. "A drink?"

"Hmm."

"Would you not think I am unladylike for accepting?"

"Would you care about my opinion?"

Jenna smiled. "No."

"There is a condition, I am afraid; perhaps you should hear it first."

"A condition to drinking with you?" she squawked, flushing, for she sounded like a mouse.

"Yes." Lord Sallis prowled over, sat beside her on the stone bench, took a flask from his pocket and handed it to her. "Should we be discovered, I will not marry you to save your reputation."

Startled, she laughed, then sobered. "Truly?"

"Yes."

"How wonderful," she murmured. "I would not accept your offer if we were caught."

"Good."

Jenna uncapped the flask and took a tentative sip, the warm liquid easing some of the tension from her body. Her breathing quickened, and she grew flushed. She handed it back to him, and he took a drink as well. Their eyes met over the rim of the flask. The deep gold of his eyes was like a spark of ember in the darkness. There was that evocative scent again, and awareness flamed through her body.

She looked away from the viscount, and he merely drank, at times handing the flask to her. Each time, she barely pressed the opening of the flask to her lips instead of drinking. She had a poor tolerance, but she did not tell him this, content with the fa?ade that she was doing something so wicked.

Perhaps it was because the viscount seemed a calming, protective force compared to the one who chased her with his dastardly intention, or it could be that she had grown more daring after joining 48 Berkeley Square, but Jenna did not feel afraid being alone with Lord Sallis. Smiling, she shared the flask and stared at the night sky, enveloped in a most peculiar sense of contentment, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and her unexpected companion.