Chapter 11

11

T he waltz could not end quickly enough. Especially not when the entire room had seen Elizabeth trip. This was precisely the reason she never danced. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Jasper, not when she fully expected the same sort of exasperated expression Mama threw her way after a bout of clumsiness. The kind of look that implored Elizabeth to be more mindful.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” she whispered under her breath as they walked from the dance floor. “And thank you for catching me.”

He had been quick with holding her upright as her feet confused themselves with each other. There had been a small gasp from the audience behind her, proof that there had, in fact, been witnesses.

“I wasn’t embarrassed.” There was a nonchalance to Jasper’s tone that pulled Elizabeth’s attention toward his face.

Surely he was not serious. Her parents, who loved her dearly, were always flushing with humiliation when her clumsiness plagued her in public settings. Except that Jasper looked absolutely serious.

Still assessing his demeanor, she cautiously said, “You weren’t?”

He shrugged. “People trip. It certainly is not the end of the world. If people take such stock in trivial matters, their lives are small indeed.”

Elizabeth had never thought of it that way before. But he was right—a little slip-up on her part mattering so much to the gossips really was quite ridiculous.

“I will always catch you, Elizabeth.” He gazed at her with those fathomless dark eyes.

And in the way that he made that vow to her, she knew he would.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Not that you need my protection, of course.”

She smiled in reply. “Of course.”

“I confess, there is part of me that cannot help but protect sometimes.” There was a note of sadness in his gaze, and she didn’t dare speak in the hopes he might continue voicing his thoughts.

“I minded my older brother,” he said. “Benjamin was always ill, and my parents, well, essentially forced me to.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “But I have a horse, a great powerful stallion of a horse, with a glossy black coat and mane. He was wild when I bought him, hence his name, Devil’s Snare.” A light touched his eyes as he spoke, and Elizabeth found herself wanting to meet Devil’s Snare. To know another thing that Jasper cared for so greatly, outside of his grandmother, for whom he held such obvious affection.

“My first stable master had no patience for Devil,” Jasper continued. “I found him once applying a whip in a barbarous way.” He caught himself and looked around. “Not that this is appropriate conversation for an engagement party.”

“We aren’t one for conventional or appropriate conversations,” Elizabeth rushed, worried he might stop speaking. “Please do go on.”

The corner of his lip quirked up and he gave a subtle nod. “I grabbed the whip from his hand and found he’d cut poor Devil right on the chest. I released the stable master, replacing him with someone else, who I knew to have a gentle hand. That slice of the whip left a scar on his chest, the only mar to his pristine coat. Even with the new stable master, I took the remainder of Devil’s training on myself. You’d never know he was such a beast to handle with how gentle he is with me now. He even runs to me from the field when he hears my voice.”

Elizabeth could imagine a massive horse trotting to the stable like a puppy and chuckled. “He sounds like the most delightful devil I’ve ever heard of.”

“More so than me?” Jasper lifted his brows suggestively.

Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laugh.

He opened his mouth to say something else when Lord and Lady Gentry approached. Lady Gentry’s dress was tufted in wispy feathers that fluttered about her person as she effused her felicitations at their engagement and touted her own efforts in helping to spread the word of their love.

Behind Lord and Lady Gentry, the wallflowers waiting in line with their parents to offer their heartfelt affection and well-wishes. But as Lady Gentry was speaking, it did not escape Elizabeth’s notice that Jasper’s grandmother stopped by the wallflowers, gathering them around her as they all spoke in low tones.

What were they on about?

Before Elizabeth could think on it, Lord and Lady Gentry took their leave and Jillian’s father, the Duke of Harting, strode forward to take their place with Jillian in tow.

“I should hope my own daughter will be lucky enough to find a beau with whom she is so compatible, sooner rather than later.” The duke’s words were meant more as a barb to his own daughter than a positive statement for Elizabeth and Jasper.

Jillian, who was entirely used to her father’s biting comments on her lack of matrimonial interest, hugged Elizabeth and then gazed between her and Jasper. “You truly are such a handsome couple. I imagine your children will be quite stunning.”

Elizabeth’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.

What would possess Jillian to say such a thing when she knew the truth of their pretend engagement?

Mr. and Mrs. Honeyfield came next with Amy between them. Mrs. Honeyfield had the same golden hair and warm brown eyes as her daughter, her expression just as loving and kind, as she wished Elizabeth and Jasper happiness in their union.

“I cannot wait to see you married,” Amy added eagerly after her mother spoke. “Elizabeth will be an exquisite bride.”

Jasper smiled at Elizabeth, admiration shining in his eyes. “That she will.”

Truly, he was far too good at this acting business.

And what on earth had gotten into Amy to say such a thing?

Next came Lucy with her parents. The Beauchamps offered similar praise as the Honeyfields, only this time Elizabeth found herself tensing when it came time for Lucy to say something about the engagement.

“Do you have a date set yet?” Lucy asked. “I’ve heard it rumored you’re keen on a springtime wedding, which would mean we only have a month or so to plan.”

Elizabeth’s mouth fell open.

“I believe that is what my grandmother and Lady Langston are conspiring to achieve,” Jasper replied easily.

Elizabeth trained her features to keep from showing how appalled she was at her friends’ bizarre statements.

On and on the line of people went, ready to congratulate Elizabeth and Jasper on their engagement. Through every new felicitation, Jasper remained the consummate actor, playing the lovestruck earl who had been so taken by his esteem for her that he had not been able to help his spur-of-the-moment proposal.

It was a romantic tale to be sure. One Elizabeth would have swooned over to have read in a book.

One she might have even secretly wished for herself had she not been party to it now, and knowing it to be nothing more than a scheme.

When, finally, the crowd of well-wishers dwindled and the last few people offered their affection, Jasper turned to Elizabeth. “Would you like to take some air, my darling?”

The idea of going outside, away from the press of people, free from the prying gazes, made her want to sigh in relief. “I would absolutely love that.”

He offered her his arm. “I assumed as much.”

Perhaps that was what was hardest for her about the ruse. His attention to her was so exact, he knew what she needed, sometimes before even she did. Such a level of care was far too difficult to brush away as merely acting.

And yet it was, she reminded herself. Even still, there was a part of her that wanted to believe it as readily as she did the love stories she read about in her novels.

Jasper led her through the room toward the rear patio overlooking the garden, and opened the door for her.

The bite in the air was ice cold, but the chill was a reprieve against the heat in her cheeks, and the quiet of the dormant garden was bliss after the cacophonous noise of the engagement party.

“You are so good at speaking with others.” Elizabeth glanced around the empty area, confirming that they were indeed alone. “At being charming.”

She tensed, knowing this was a start to what she needed to tell him, that Grace was going to be having her own engagement party soon. That their faux engagement would be coming to an end.

Jasper took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. The wool was heavy and warm with the heat of his body and carried that sensual spicy fragrance that was becoming so wonderfully familiar to her.

He studied her for a long moment. “Being charming is easy to do with a woman such as yourself.”

She gave a shy laugh. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“I’m not pretending, Elizabeth. You are beautiful.”

He was watching her with that dark gaze again, making her body burn for something he promised he would never give her.

“It’s the dress,” she admitted. “Mama and my sisters insisted?—”

“No.” Jasper stepped closer to her. “You have always been beautiful.”

She opened her mouth, uncertain how to respond to such flattery. He continued, sparing her from having to reply. “I first noticed you at Lord Whimbley’s ball two years ago. You were the most beautiful woman there.”

Most beautiful woman there?

Now he was going too far. Didn’t she tell him he didn’t have to pretend with her?

She shook her head. “You must have been mistaken. That was likely not me.”

“You were standing against the wall looking as though you were trying to blend into it.” A secret smile hovered on his lips.

“Very well,” she conceded. “Yes, that does sound like me.”

“When your friends approached, your face bloomed with delight. You were radiant. This quiet, gentle woman clearly wanting to be anywhere but at that ball—which admittedly was tedious as far as they go. But for your friends, you came to life. I’ve never seen someone care so much for others, or be embraced with such affection. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His words were a spell woven around her, intoxicating as they obliterated the shreds of doubt from her thoughts. She wanted to believe what he was saying. Desperately so.

“You couldn’t?” Elizabeth swallowed. “Why didn’t you approach me?”

“After you rejected every man who approached you?”

She flushed.

He stepped closer, his gaze serious and intense. “But even if I could bring myself to, women like you aren’t meant for men like me.”

Her breath was coming too fast, making her head spin. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Respectable ladies…” His eyes were on her lips and suddenly they felt dry. She darted her tongue out to moisten them and his nostrils flared.

“Because of your reputation?” she whispered.

His jaw flexed. “Yes.”

“Because you vowed not to touch me.”

He breathed a moment, his breath a hard pull in and out. “Yes.”

Something niggled at the back of her mind. The reminder that she had to tell him their charade was nearly up. And yet, here was Lord Darington telling her he’d always found her beautiful, had always noticed her. This man who she had dreamed of for too long had wondered about her.

And had desired her.

Surely, they could pretend just a bit longer.

Only this time, she wanted to fall head over heels into the fantasy. To set aside her skepticism and play the lead role alongside him.

“What if…” Her heart thundered in her ears. Was she truly going to say this. “What if I told you I wanted you to touch me?”

He inhaled sharply. “I can’t.”

If she thought such words were a rejection, she was mistaken. For the way he continued to watch her with his dark, steady gaze, begged her to press him.

“What if we pretend?” She caught him by the hand and eased backward to the building, obscuring them in a cloak of shadows. “What if we pretend we will be wed in a fortnight, that reputation does not stand between us, that soon all intimacy will be shared with one another.”

Elizabeth’s heel hit the wall, and she stopped, locking her eyes on Jasper.

“That is a lot of pretending.” But even as he said it, he leaned over her, bracing his body with an arm on either side of her.

“I have a very active imagination,” she whispered.

“So you’ve said,” he murmured.

She tilted her face toward his. “Kiss me.”

Was she begging?

She didn’t care. All she knew was that she wanted—needed—the heat of his mouth on hers.

He hesitated a moment, long enough she was certain he would deny her request. Disappointment chilled inside her and then suddenly he moved, grasping her firmly but gently at the back of her head and lowered his lips to hers.

Jasper knew he shouldn’t be kissing Elizabeth, but her mouth was so sweet under his, so soft, so yielding.

She had goaded him with her teasing earlier during the dance, and now with her throaty, whispered plea, all but begging him to kiss her.

Good God, how could he not?

His mouth moved over hers, claiming her lips as if he could make her entirely his with that act of one simple kiss.

But no, there was nothing simple about it.

Not in the way he possessively cradled the back of her head against his palm, or in how his body bowed over hers, drawn toward her beauty, her undeniable sensuality as she sweetly tormented him with a flirtation he could not deny.

He kissed first that full lower lip he’d spent far too much time thinking about, then her top lip, before capturing them together. She returned his kiss, her movements slow with inexperience and determined with need.

It was that need which spurred him beyond that one kiss.

For truly that was what he had intended.

One simple kiss to placate her request. To slake his curiosity of how she might taste.

One kiss was not enough, damn it.

He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, sampling her. Encouraging her.

Her mouth parted and he dipped his tongue inside, brushing the tip of hers with his own.

A soft moan escaped her—a breathy whimper, a lusty plea for more.

God, such a sound could fell a man.

He sucked her full lower lip into his mouth, scraping it gently with his teeth before freeing it to tease her with his tongue once more.

This time she met the probe of his tongue with a curious parry of her own. Her arms curled around his back, drawing her toward him, arching against his body where his lust burned like the Spanish summer sun.

His body was on fire with longing for her, the breath caught in his chest against the thundering of his heart, and his cock was so damn hard, it nearly hurt.

“Touch me,” Elizabeth said against his mouth.

He froze. Had she really said such a thing?

She arched against him again. “Touch me, please.”

A voice in the back of his mind reminded him they were on the patio, where any person could walk out and find them in such a compromised position. But he had never been one to follow caution…

One touch.

That’s all he would do.

His mouth trailed down the slender column of her neck, to where the corset pushed her firm breasts up toward his eager lips. He ran his fingertips along the low edge of the corset, whispering against petal soft skin.

Elizabeth whimpered, pushing her generous breasts toward him.

Jasper played his fingertips over that corset, hating how it hid her from him. Wanting to see her. To taste her.

Putting his thumb against her sensual breast, he nudged the fabric down with his other hand, freeing one rosy nipple which immediately pebbled in the cold. He leaned over her, closing his mouth around it, tracing the peaked shape with his tongue before flicking it in a way that made her grip his head to her bosom.

She was a responsive lover, the type he loved the most, whose gasps and moans told him what she liked. So that he could do even more.

Her hips were arching toward him, and he obligingly eased his knee between her legs.

He knew the moment her sex grazed over his thigh for she moaned with great delight and shifted over him again and again.

How he longed to touch even more. To sample that sweet place so desperate for relief.

But instead, he straightened and carefully tucked her breast back into her corset.

Her chest heaved with her frenzied breathing and her eyes sparkled like diamonds of desire in the darkness. “Please…” she whispered.

With a groan, he captured her lips once more, unable to stop as he knew he should.

She kissed him back with enthusiastic zeal that pushed away any rational thought. He drew the glove off his right hand and caught a fistful of her skirts with the left.

He kissed her with abandon, feeling the smooth fullness of her lips on his, the warmth of her breath as she moaned into his mouth. Meanwhile, he drew up her skirt with one hand, just to the knee, just enough to slip his hand beneath.

His fingers found the smooth silk of her stockings, the glossy length of ribbon tying it just above her knee, likely a perfect match to the one in the pocket of his robe at home.

How he wished they were alone, that he could pull off those ribbons, free those stockings, and pull the dress from her body, revealing all of her to him.

But this would do for now.

Her skin was hot against his cold hands, smooth as gossamer. She panted as his fingers crept higher up her legs, seeking the source of her need.

He reached the apex of her thighs, to the cleft in between. With the lightest of touches, he dragged his fingertips over her.

She gasped against his lips and her knees buckled. He grabbed her with his left arm even as his fingertips stroked against her once more, this time more firmly.

A whimper sounded in her throat.

“You must be quiet,” he murmured in her ear, and she buried her face against his shoulder.

He held her thus, letting her cries of surprised delight and pleasure melt against his body, resonating in his ears. She was so damn wet against his fingers, hot and eager.

So ready for him that he had to clamp down on his back teeth to stave off his own longing.

All he wanted in this moment was her pleasure.

His thumb found the swollen nub and he circled it slowly at first, then with more haste. Her breath hitched and he knew she would not take long to bring to release.

God, how he appreciated an easy lover.

Her body tensed, so close to the brink.

He pressed his mouth to her throat, kissing her gently as his fingers worked over her. “Come for me, my love,” he growled.

She stiffened, and her gasps of euphoria were absorbed with his lips as her sex spasmed against his fingers.

An exhale shuddered from her as she drew back, her gaze wide and blinking with wonder. “I…I had no idea it could be like that.”

He removed his hand, letting her skirts fall back into place as he eased his glove back over his hand, his fingers still damp with her arousal.

“That is only the beginning, dearest.” He grinned at her, wishing he could show her every element of pleasure he’d learned in his youth. Only now he would appreciate them so much more with a woman he found as intriguing and respectable as he did beautiful and desirable.

But tonight was for her.

To show her passion, but maintain her innocence.

Because she was not his. And he would do well to remember that.

Someday, some other man would marry her. Someone else who would part her thighs as she took him into her, having what Jasper could not.

A spike of jealousy drove through him.

Because even if he knew he didn’t deserve her, he wanted to be that man, damn it.

“We should return inside,” he said abruptly. “Or people will speculate over our prolonged absence.”

Elizabeth nodded, her cheeks flushed. Her lips were swollen from their kisses, her eyes still bright with desire.

One need take only one look at her to know what they had been on about.

“I should not have done that.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Why not?” She asked.

“Because you’re an innocent. I have no right to…to do what I did.”

Most women might become emotional at such a reply, but Elizabeth just tilted her head, her approach pragmatic as it always seemed to be. “Then why did you?”

Her question was not accusatory, but asked in genuine interest.

“Because I could not help myself.” He sighed. “I can never seem to help myself around you.”

And that very much was the problem.

He liked the time he spent with Elizabeth, he loved the way she respected him when others did not, how she’d wanted to hear why he had a sordid past rather than judging him for it. He liked how she made him feel like he could be a better man with her. And even though he knew she despised her clumsiness, he found it endearing.

In that moment, Jasper realized he did not wish to end their engagement. That perhaps they might take the risk to bring the engagement to fruition.

But now was not the time to bring up marriage, with her eyes starry and fevered from orgasm. No, tomorrow would be better. When he called on her following the engagement party.

He would tell her then of his wish to marry her, and hoped to God that this real proposal ended in a yes .