Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

" T he audacity! The utter gall!" gasped Arabella, nearly laughing at the man's outrageous insinuation. Fury welled up within her. "You think I am trying to trap you? Why I hardly even know who you are!"

"Do not lie to me," the man scoffed.

"I am not lying. I do not know who you are."

"Then I suppose you were simply lying in wait in here to trap whatever young man was unlucky enough to stumble upon a woman in such a state of undress? And not for the single solitary duke who had been the only man of status to grace this masquerade with his presence?"

Arabella was at a loss for words. So offended was she – so amazed at this man's arrogance – that she could not seem to reply.

"Do you deny that you are dressed immodestly?" the man pressed, gesturing to her exposed arm.

"I, I grant that my dress is in disrepair," she stammered, "but I hardly think that any man may be entrapped –"

"Scandals have been born out of less," the man interrupted.

Arabella gazed up at him in incredulity. Just exactly who did this man think he was?

A duke. At least, that was what she had gathered from his discussion earlier with the other man. And a handsome one at that. Arabella would have been blind not to notice his tall, trim build beneath his fine clothes which spoke of a capable, muscular body. The curve of his jaw, along with those striking eyes, would be enough to tempt any woman into sneaking a second look.

"What do you plan to do now?" the man pressed. "I suppose you will use that broken vase to slash up your skirts. Or perhaps you have enlisted someone to come in here and discover us together. Is that it?"

"How dare you?" Arabella took a step toward him defiantly. "You find a woman, clearly in distress, and your first thought is that she is up to no good? A gentleman would check to see if she is all right. A man of morals would try and assist her."

"Assist you how?" The duke waved a hand around the room. It was still dark, lit only by the candelabra which he had brought back into the library with him. The little flames bowed under the wind as he waved the candles back and forth. "I have heard nothing amiss. A woman in distress would have called out for aid. But I have been in this room for nearly…" He snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide. As he turned back to look at her, Arabella's stomach sank.

"How long have you been in here?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. He took a step toward her.

Arabella retreated back.

"Were you listening? Eavesdropping?" He pressed forward and Arabella stepped back until she was pressed up against the side of the desk. The duke towered over her. "What did you overhear?"

"Noth-nothing," Arabella gasped. "I only heard voices, but I, I do not know what you were talking about."

"Do not lie to me," he repeated, his volume growing. "You know, don't you? You were going to spread all kinds of rumors about me, weren't you? About my position, making up some falsehood about my condition –"

"I don't know anything of the sort!" Arabella cried out. She was caught between fear and anger for a moment, wondering what this man might do in his own outrage. But Arabella's fury won out.

The heat of her anger took her somewhat by surprise. But hadn't this man deserved her wrath? If he thought he could insult her like this, making such hideous accusations of a woman he hardly knew, then he had another thing coming.

She raised herself up, trying to stand tall before the overpowering man. "You make assumptions, Sir," she snapped, "which you have no right to make. I will thank you to watch your words around me. You may be a man of privilege but you, Sir, are no gentleman!"

Arabella held the man's gaze for a long moment, each of them waiting for the other to speak. Distractedly, she noticed how dark his green his eyes were. She had never seen a shade like this before. In his anger, his eyes were flashing, making her think of a sunny day in the forest, sunlight flashing occasionally through the thick foliage.

She raised herself up, trying to stand tall before the overpowering man. "You make assumptions, Sir," she snapped, "which you have no right to make. I will thank you to watch your words around me. You may be a man of privilege but you, Sir, are no gentleman!"

Arabella held the man's gaze for a long moment, each of them waiting for the other to speak. Finally, he turned away, scoffing as he did. "I do not know what you are playing at, but I assure you that you will regret involving me," he warned her.

When he turned back to face her, Arabella shifted and heard a soft tinkle as she accidentally kicked a shard of glass. She watched as it skated across the hardwood floor and landed right in front of the duke.

Then, as the man stepped forward, Arabella realized what was about to happen. She tried to push him away from the danger, but, as she knocked him off balance, the duke instinctually reached out for her.

Arabella gasped, feeling herself pulled downward with the man. She kicked out wildly as she fell, but it was of no use. The candelabra flew from the man's grasp and clattered to the floor. And both Arabella and the duke went down.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" Jasper demanded, his voice tight and hard, on the edge of both astonishment and outrage.

"Wha – I, I was trying to help you," the woman replied from above. Her brow – just inches from his – was furrowed in confusion.

Jasper scoffed. "Help me? You could at least do me the decency of admitting that you are trying to trap me."

The woman's eyes went wide. "Trap you? I have no idea what you mean."

"Of course you do. You've put me in a compromising situation in the hopes that I might be caught in a scandal with you." He shifted, fighting back a groan as his bruised back pressed down onto the hard, unyielding floor. The utter gall of this woman!

"I hate to dismiss you hard work," he continued sarcastically, "but you are not the first to try and do so."

"I would never!" she gasped, the pink in her cheeks deepening to an angry red. "How dare you make such insinuations! I was trying to protect you!"

As she shifted, her anger making her more animated, Jasper made two quick, baffling discoveries.

One: the woman was on top of him.

The woman was on top of him. Dumbfounded, Jasper could only glance down at the place where their bodies met. He had felt the weight of her on him the moment they fell, but his outrage at her behavior had completely distracted him. Now, however, he was well aware of the contact.

The second discovery was that the woman had not yet gotten up, because he was holding her in place. His hand was wrapped around her upper arm, her soft, delicate skin warm in his grasp.

Breathless, Jasper brushed his thumb over the flesh, marveling at how the heat in his hand tingled at her touch.

He was not cold. There was no hint of the clammy, unfeeling ice that such a touch might elicit.

Jasper looked up, meeting the woman's eye with astonishment. It was not happening. His condition…it had not been triggered.

"You were about to step on a shard of glass!" the woman continued, pleading her case with fervor. "If I had not pushed you out of the way, you would have impaled your foot on it! I am certain you would rather endure a little embarrassment like this than make a visit to the physician and spend weeks recovering from the injury!"

She continued to protest, but Jasper did not reply. Nor did he really hear what she was saying.

Moved by something he could not explain, Jasper raised his free hand. Gingerly, he drew a finger down her face, drawing aside a strand of hair that had come free, and tucking it behind her ear. The woman had fine, light blond hair, almost translucent in the moonlight. It was soft and silky to the touch.

As he did so, the woman's mouth snapped such. She stared down at him in utter shock, but she did not pull away.

Jasper marveled at the sensation. Again, he was not overcome with nausea or dizziness. Cupping her cheek, he placed her palm against her skin, admiring her tender warmth.

When his gaze returned to her eyes, he found her still looking at him in astonishment. But she remained where she was, watching him with those light blue eyes, framed in a soft, heart-shaped face.

Neither of them said a word. Neither of them pulled away. But they should have.

Before Jasper knew what was happening, a sliver of light was cast into the room. Then, a moment later, it was flooded with candlelight as several people swept into the darkened library.

"You heard that commotion, did you not?" asked a voice. Several others murmured in agreement.

"I do hope nothing…" The statement was never finished. The speaker gasped as the group rounded on Jasper and his companion. From where he still lay, he could see just how dismal a situation he had gotten himself into.

Here they were, caught in one another's embrace, lying on the floor, with Lady Arabella's shoulder and arm exposed beneath the torn shreds of her dress. From the intruder's position, it looked as if Jasper was just about to have his way with the woman, tearing her clothing in his desperation to claim her.

As soon as they had been spotted, both Jasper and his companion jumped to their feet. But it was too late.

Everyone was looking at them with wide-eyed astonishment. Several of the ladies present were blushing furiously. Then, as if on cue, one of them spun around and raced from the room.

"Wait!" Jasper called after her. "It is not what it seems. There has been a misunderstanding!"

But the woman was gone. And with her went not only his pride but Lady Arabella's good name.

He turned to face his companion, but Lady Arabella's eyes were filled with tears, and she turned from him the moment their eyes locked. Then, wordlessly, she too raced from the room.

As she ran, she all but collided with Reginald who was now stalking into the room. As Reginald took in the woman's state of disarray, he turned to Jasper with a look of utter incomprehension. "Your Grace…" he began, but then, seeing the others that were still gathered in the library, he clamped his mouth shut.

Regarding Jasper only with a glowering look of contempt, Reginald stayed where he was. He, along with the others, was waiting for Jasper to speak.

But what was there to say? Jasper had been caught up in a scandal. And Lady Arabella was to blame.