Chapter 2

CHAPTER2

“What the…” Jacob trailed off, freezing completely as he tried to make sense of his bearings.

“I thought you would have shifted your hands by now,” a rather husky voice said.

Oh, that voice.

It was sultry. The kind of voice that he expected to hear from some actress on the stage. One of those actresses that took the part of the ‘other woman’ in the play, the one who was tempting the hero to look the other way. Yes indeed, he could imagine walking across a stage to that voice and being ensnared by her.

“What exactly am I—oh!” He lifted his hands, realizing that in his attempt to stay standing as he had walked into this mysterious lady, one of his hands had found her hip and the other her shoulder. Well, he said shoulder, but that was just what his fingertips caressed. The bottom part of his palm could distinctly feel the curve of a breast. “My apologies.”

He removed his hands and stood up straight, only to find that he was standing on the hem of her gown. As he reached for the bottom rail of the nearby staircase, its outline barely visible, his boot hooked her hem. dragging her with him.

“What the devil!” she cried then fell straight into him, her hands finding the center of his chest.

“It is a good job I am strong, ma’am,” he said, suddenly aware in the darkness how close the lady was. “An ounce weaker and you could have knocked us both over until we were rolling around on this floor together.”

He may not have been able to see her face in this darkness, but he could just decipher the top curve of her head and some curls in the faint light from the window. Her scent lingered too. It was rather exotic, unlike the light floral scents that so many ladies in the ballroom preferred; something infinitely headier, and there was a touch of spice to it too.

“Ha!” she laughed deeply. “Does such a statement induce many ladies to fall into your arms and go ahead with such rolling around on the floor?” She continued to laugh at him.

He raised his hands and softly tapped her fingers that still rested on his chest.

“Perhaps I should just point out that you are the one who launched yourself into my arms.”

“Yes, completely intentionally,” she said wryly and pushed harshly against his chest, stumbling back from him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you such a thing. The ball is back through there.” He pointed in the direction he had come from, though with such little light, he realized that she probably couldn’t see his gesture.

“I asked first.”

“Hmm, is this a court of law? I was not aware I had to play fairly,” he said teasingly. There was something altogether exciting about this whole situation. It wasn’t just the fact that they had stumbled into one another, and had no idea what one another looked like, but there was something witty in her turn of phrase, that voice, that scent… She was attractive indeed, even without seeing her face.

“You prefer to play foul, stranger?” she asked, rather tartly with a challenge in her voice. From the way her body shifted, and the outline he could see, he thought she might have leaned back on the wall opposite him.

“Not foul, just… with cleverness.”

“Clever? Oh, this is a rather vain meeting, is it not?” she said, that witty tone still present. “We have known each other for what must amount to less than two minutes, and you have already declared that I should wish to fall into your arms and that you are deeply clever indeed. Any other boasts I should know of?”

What is happening here?

He couldn’t resist. Part of him knew he should be returning to the ball, meeting the woman he was supposed to be marrying, yet he stayed here. Rather than heading to the ball, he took a step toward the lady instead. She didn’t move, despite the fact she must have heard the sound.

“I know that it is probably unwise for a lady to be alone with me in such a dark corridor. My reputation, ma’am… it is no fine thing when it comes to dancing with just one lady in a night.” The flirtation was obvious as he bent his head a little down toward her, wanting to be nearer that scent.

“Now that is a boast indeed. You are supposing more than one lady wishes to dance with you in a night?” she said, her voice rather breathy, making that husky sound deeper. When she angled her head to the side, as if readying herself for a kiss, he mirrored the image the other way, placing his hands on the wall either side of her.

What has come over me?

He might have been wayward, a rake, a cad, yes! Yet every lady he had been with, even kissed, he’d looked in the eye. They knew exactly who he was. This lady did not. It was as if they were drawn together by something beyond the promises of his reputation and how he could fill a lady’s night with pleasure.

This is another draw entirely.

“I wasn’t exactly referring to dancing when I said ‘dancing’.” His voice grew deeper still.

“Then what were you talking of?” She was clearly enjoying challenging him, for he could hear the humor in her voice. She was tempting him to say the actual words, testing him to see if he would.

“You are bold, my lady. Very bold indeed.” He angled his head further to the side, coming so near that his cheek practically brushed hers.

“Hmm, do you know what a hypocrite is, stranger?”

He laughed deeply at her words and pulled an inch back from her.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, his hands still firmly on the wall though he kept a little distance between them now. “I would blame the claret for drawing me toward you, but I could not put my hand on my heart and say that I did.”

“Not your eagerness to have another lady to… dance with tonight then?” At her words, they laughed together, a soft sound.

“Tempting indeed, ma’am,” he whispered. When he shifted his hands on the wall this time, he felt the brush of where she had planted her arms to the wall too. He caught the hint of the fine long gloves that reached her elbows. It was the evidence that he needed, though he could not see her face and dress clearly—she was a lady of the ton. “Yet I have a rule.”

“What is that? Flirting with ladies in dark corridors is allowed, but anything more is off limits?” she asked, that flirtatious huskiness growing. Once more, she tilted her head to the side. He caught it in the way the soft gray light fell through the window, enough to see the movement of her hair at the side of her head.

“I do not get involved with ladies of the ton.”

“Oh? How interesting.” She flattened her head to the wall again. “Well, in a dark corridor, I could be anyone, could I not? Just as easily as you may well be a footman or a cook right now, and I would not know.”

“That is true.” There was something exhilarating about that idea to Jacob. This stranger, she was drawn to him, flirting with him, when she didn’t even know what his position was. He didn’t doubt most ladies went to his bed because they thought they could get something else from him— money. Yet this lady was looking for a momentary thrill. Was he one to deny her that?

“What if we just said that for tonight, in this corridor, I’m no lady of the ton,” she whispered, tilting her head up a little toward his.

“Tempting indeed,” he said, and moved his lips toward hers.

The brush of their lips together was soft at first, merely a test of boundaries. When her lips molded to his, showing she knew what to do in a kiss, he pushed the boundary further. They moved their lips together, experimenting, then when his hands slid along the wall, his wrists coming up to brush the curve of her waist, she arched toward him.

That’s when Jacob lost his self-control. In that moment, he didn’t care about restraint, or why he was at the ball tonight. All he thought about was this momentary escape with this stranger.

I’m damn well going to enjoy it whilst I can. It will be fleeting!

He deepened the kiss, playfully biting her bottom lip to get a response from her. She parted her lips, giving him entry, and as he delved beyond, tangling their tongues in a tease, her hands reached up. She splayed her fingers across his chest. The intimacy of that touch was enough to drive him mad, even without that kiss.

Then there was a thud in the distant part of the corridor. Jacob pulled back from the mysterious lady, his hands still on the wall as he looked down the corridor. Someone else had escaped the ballroom, and they had a candle with them—they were in danger of lighting the pair of them, locked in their scandalous kiss.

“Do not move,” Jacob whispered to the lady, turning his head back toward her. The candle was so distant, it cast no light upon them. He strained in that light, desperate to see something of the lady that had kissed him with such skill and passion, but he saw nothing. He simply grew aware of the way her hands shifted on his chest, moving down a little to his stomach and then his hips. “That is moving, ma’am,” he whispered again in her ear.

“Oops.” Though her playful tone showed she knew exactly what she had done to tease him.

Holding his whole body still, Jacob stared down the corridor, fearful of discovery. If he turned and fled now, it would simply draw attention to the pair of them. His best chance was to stay very still and let the intruder pass away without ever discovering they were there.

The candle seemed to bob about in the room, its bearer uncertain where to go, then the candle drifted the other way down the hallway, slowly disappearing. The moment it was gone, the lady sighed heavily in relief and released Jacob, flattening herself against the wall once again.

“A near miss,” Jacob remarked, his hands still on the wall.

“And a reminder how risky meetings with gentlemen such as yourself are.” Her tone was still playful as she slipped under one of his arms, escaping him with ease. “If you would excuse me, stranger.”

“Wait… that’s it?” Jacob turned, leaning on the wall. “One kiss like that, and no more?”

“Did you expect any more?” She laughed from the darkness. “I have not come here to dance with you, stranger. Oh no, the kiss was enough to tantalize the senses, but there will be no more. Goodnight.” She turned in the darkness. He caught sight of the silver light from the window falling on the hem of her gown. Was that a shade of blue? He could not be certain.

Then she was gone, with the door to the ballroom closing softly behind her.

After she left, Jacob was filled with a rush of excitement at what he had done. He chuckled, leaned back on the wall and thrust a hand into his hair.

“I should not have done that,” he murmured aloud.

His head argued against what he had done. Every rational thought knew that it was not only risky, and scandalous, and that they could have found themselves hastily betrothed if they’d been discovered, but his heart also knew it was a betrayal.

Maybe I am not capable of devotion to a lady, but in that ballroom, a young lady is waiting for me. And what have I done whilst she waits for me? I have kissed another…

“Ah, no wonder my mother despairs of me.” He thrust a hand into his hair one last time, his nervous habits returning, then he breathed deeply and pushed himself off the wall. He had to make sure the thrill the stranger had given him had well and truly passed, or he risked returning to that ball with his evident arousal straining at his breeches.

As he stepped back into the ballroom, despite every good thought and intention to return to his mother’s side, his eyes involuntarily worked against him. He searched for another instead. He hunted out every blue-hemmed gown he could see, and every lady with curls that escaped their updos. Unfortunately, that meant a lot of ladies in the room! Yet had that lady’s gown not been bolder in color? Something beyond the usual pastel shades.

He couldn’t detect that exotic scent again, not on any of the ladies that walked by him now.

“Jacob! There you are.” Catarina’s hand launched itself at his arm and gripped hard.

“Ow, Mother. Careful. Are you trying to take my arm off?” he said jokingly, trying to ease the tension he saw at once in her face. With her other hand, she was already straightening things, only this time, it was him. She adjusted the lapels of his jacket, the position of his cravat, and the creases in his waistcoat. “Mother, I’m a man, not a boy.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, turning her attention to the creases in her own gown. “Where did you go? Lord Pratt came to introduce his daughter and you were nowhere to be found. You were longer than I expected, Jacob. It is embarrassing indeed!”

“I’m sorry. You are right, I should not have taken so long.” He laid a hand on his mother’s shoulder again, knowing it comforted her. She breathed deeply and nodded.

Jacob had a distinct memory of being a child when he had seen his father do such a thing, laying a hand on his mother’s shoulder to comfort her. He supposed that was why he did it. He was so like his father, in many respects, and who knew just how far that similarity went.

“You must come and meet her now.” Catarina took his arm. “There must be no further delay.”

“Yes, Mother. You are right. Let’s get this over and done with.” He added the latter sentence to himself in a deeper tone.

I have to marry; I know I do. I can’t live forever on stolen kisses and excitement with ladies in dark corridors. I promised my mother I would produce children. I must keep to that vow.

They crossed the room together and came upon Lord Pratt, a man who Jacob had met several times over the previous months.

“Lord Pratt.” Jacob bowed deeply in greeting. The kindly gentleman turned at once and bowed too.

“Your Grace, it is so good to see you again.” He smiled warmly. “We thought we had lost you for the night.”

“Yes, my son has a habit of scampering off,” Catarina said tightly.

“An old habit of mine to explore, forgive me,” Jacob said with ease. Lord Pratt didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he smiled a little more.

“Allow me to introduce my daughter to you at last, Your Grace. Bridget?” he called, turning to look around the other end of the drinks table. A young lady removed herself from a group of other ladies and walked forward, moving to her father’s side quickly. “Bridget, permit me to introduce His Grace, Jacob Browning, the Duke of Thorne to you.”

“How do you do, Your Grace?” Her voice was light and melodic as she curtsied to him.

At once, Jacob saw the fair face. She was excessively pretty, and demure too from the way she barely raised her eyes at him. The dark curls that framed her face were done expertly and her full lips pressed together rather quickly. It was easy to see she was a nervous soul, but she knew her duty, and stood tall.

She is a good sort of woman. That is what I wanted, was it not? A lady to wed and produce children. I was not looking for anything more.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Bridget.” Jacob bowed to her and took her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss it. So often when he offered such a kiss, he saw a blush tinging the lady’s cheeks or a flicker of her eyes that danced across him, but Lady Bridget was more reserved than that. There was no blush, no dancing of the eyes; in fact, he’d almost go as far to suggest it was possible that she was unaffected by him at all, and not at all attracted.

She is hardly the lady from the corridor…

Abruptly, he was transported back there, to that feeling in the corridor, the excitement, the heat, the mischief, and oh, how he longed to see that lady again, but he knew it was not to be.

“And you.” Lady Bridget retrieved her hand and offered a polite smile.

“I am so glad we have had this meeting at last,” Catarina said, before Jacob could think of a word to say to the demure lady. “A marriage! Oh, such a thing will make me very happy indeed.”

“All of us, Your Grace, will be happy, I assure you,” Lord Pratt said with ease while offering his arm to Catarina. “Shall we find something to drink and let the betrothed couple get to know one another?”

“Yes, of course.” They walked off in a not-so-subtle way. Catarina glanced back with enough harshness in her eyes to let Jacob know he had better be on his best behavior.

He laughed and turned to Lady Bridget, raising his eyebrows.

“An interesting meeting, eh, Lady Bridget?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She looked away. There was no humor, no connection, nothing of the kind.

I am here to do my duty, not to run away with ladies in dark corridors. I must marry Lady Bridget as I agreed to. Nothing else matters now.