Chills (29 page)

Pixie struggled to speak around his mouth and he had to pause. “Well, there is someone else to consider.”

Their warm breaths twined between them, binding them closer together. “What the devil are you talking about?”

She pushed against his chest. “I shouldn’t be kissing you.”

“But you do it so very, very well.” Jack kissed her again, wrapping Pixie tight against him, touching the delicate softness of her skin. Tangling their tongues until he had her undulating against him, her hands clutched the sides of his head. He opened his eyes. Her dazed expression made him smile.

“I did notice that. But it has to stop.” She contradicted herself by kissing him. God, this little bundle of mischief amazed him.

“Don’t stop,” Jack told her and groaned as her lips found his ear. Oh, lord, but that was her teeth on him. Jack’s arousal soared and he started taking steps toward his bedchamber.

“I’m sorry. One of us has to do the right thing and it’s going to be me.” Pixie’s words were saying one thing, yet Jack could vouch for the ferocity of her attraction to him. He was ridiculously pleased.

“You don’t mean what you are saying. You want to keep kissing me.” Jack nipped at her neck again and headed south toward her gown’s neckline. Just a little lower and he would touch the beginning of her breast with his lips. As his back hit his door, he reached for the handle, but Pixie skipped out of his grip and out of reach.

Her eyes were wide and filled with anguish. “I couldn’t live with myself. Surely you can understand.”

“No, I do not understand, Pixie. I want you.” Jack spoke as firmly as he could, without shouting it for all to hear. She backed up another step, shaking her head.

“It’s just because I’m close at hand.”

Male voices from the floor below froze them where they stood. They both glanced down the staircase. Just out of sight, Parkes was receiving a caller. From the sound of it, Mr. Abernathy was here and asking to see Pixie. Jack looked at her in annoyance. She could not choose Abernathy over him.

The butler’s heavy tread advanced up the staircase. Pixie backed toward her bedchamber door and escaped, leaving Jack alone to face his servant.

“Excuse me, my lord. Do you perhaps know where Miss Grange might be found?”

“Her bedchamber,” Jack growled.

“Of course. Thank you, sir.” Parkes started to turn away, but looked back. “Shall I have your valet return to your chambers to assist you?”

Jack glanced down. His clothes were a fright. “No, that is perfectly all right. I can manage on my own. What does Abernathy want?”

“He is here to take Miss Grange out in his carriage, I believe.”

“Wonderful, just wonderful,” Jack muttered as he stalked back into his room.

~ * ~

Mr. Abernathy’s driving skills were a vast improvement after Lord Bridges dangerous display. He was pleasant company, handsome to look at and, above all else, comfortable.

Constance was utterly bored by the time they reached the entrance to Hyde Park.

Joining the ranks of society in search of diversion, he circled the park, paused to speak to acquaintances, introduced her when required, and spoke about himself and his family with an open, friendly manner.

Overall, Mr. Benedict Abernathy was perfect for what she needed—a wealthy man able to afford her current debts—but she felt not one spark of attraction flow between them.

“Were you, by any chance, at the Malvey masquerade last evening?” Abernathy asked as they took a tight turn.

“No,” Constance confessed, lying through her teeth. They had all agreed to deny attending. “I retired early.”

For a moment he appeared disappointed. “Lady Orkney made a wise decision.”

“I’ve always enjoyed a good story. What did you see?”

Abernathy scrunched up his face as if he had unpleasant memories. “There was far too much corruption for me to repeat, especially to a lady. I was extremely shocked by some behavior I witnessed.”

Abernathy would be shocked if he learned that Virginia might have been one of the more daring guests in attendance. Constance was tempted to tell him, just to see how he reacted. “Did you stay long?”

“No, I circled the dance floor, bumped into an old acquaintance I recognized, and left early.”

“Ah,” Constance replied. He would have missed the fireworks and singers later in the evening. After kissing Jack, those had been the highlight of her evening. Jack had held her in his arms, whispering into her ear for the remainder of the evening. Thanks to him sharing his confidences, she understood a great deal more about the people around them. And after listening to what he had to say, most of the ton should be ashamed.

Constance summoned her best smile. “Are you in London for long, sir?”

He chuckled. “No. My sister is to be married shortly and we are here only to spend an obscene amount on her trousseau while we wait for the happy day to arrive. Our house is at sixes and sevens over the arrangements.”

“I believe that is the case with most wedding days.” Constance was impressed she had him talking about marriage so soon into their outing. “Can you imagine the pleasure of your own?”

Abernathy looked grim a moment, then his lips quirked into a sad smile. He didn’t speak immediately. Had she blundered? Perhaps she shouldn’t show too much interest in weddings.

He drew in a large breath. “I think, perhaps, I won’t marry.”

Constance’s mouth grew dry. “Oh, why ever not?”

Abernathy’s expression grew pained. “The usual tale, I imagine. I lost my heart to an angel, but she fluttered her wings and flew away.”

With a toss of his head he threw the emotion aside and concentrated on the horse.

“I’m sorry.”

Mr. Abernathy nodded. “So was I.”

Constance looked away, blinking rapidly to hold back her tears. The poor man sounded heartbroken. If she had known of his past, she might never have pursued him.

Constance slumped a little. She didn’t know if she had the fortitude to pursue a man with a broken heart. His words hinted that he wasn’t over the woman, his angel, and it might take more skill than she possessed to turn his thoughts in her direction.

By the weary set of his shoulders, he dwelled in the memory of his lost love. If she looked in the mirror one day, would Constance see that self-same pose confronting her?

“You appear tired today, Miss Grange. Are you entirely recovered from your illness? I would not like to have Ettington take me to task for keeping you out too long. I understand you are very dear to him.”

There it was—the first subtle suggestion linking them together. Before long, society would whisper loud enough to ruin her chances of making a respectable marriage. Humiliation would run her out of London faster than the creditors could chase her.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Sometimes the marquess forgets he isn’t my guardian any longer.”

“Well, I imagine you know him better than I. However, I should return you before you catch another chill. I wouldn’t like to lose the man’s good opinion.”

As wealthy as Abernathy appeared to be, he clearly wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Jack. He would certainly have no chance against her mama. “Thank you, sir. I do think I feel a headache coming on.”

Abernathy clucked the reins and turned for the park gates. “You should have said something sooner.”

Despondent and at a loss for what to do, Constance sat quietly as the carriage turned for Ettington House. The lie she had just told brought heat to her cheeks. She hated lying and was very quickly coming to despise herself. London had corrupted her from the honest woman she had thought herself to be.

Clenching her hands together, she pasted a contented smile on her face but inside, she quaked. Aside from Abernathy, there was no one else. Did she have the skills necessary to turn a damaged heart in her direction? Could she do such a cold-hearted thing?

Ettington House loomed ahead—temptation waiting behind those impressive doors. Fearing another encounter with Jack, Constance was quick in alighting from the carriage, said goodbye to Abernathy on the street, and turned for the steps.

Parkes stood waiting.

The butler took one look at her face and drew her inside. She didn’t speak, and thankfully neither did the butler because if he offered one word of inquiry about her drive, Constance feared she’d weep.

Once she gained her bedchamber, she locked the door, drew the curtains, and crawled into bed. Abernathy had been her last chance. He’d told her a great many things about his life, but all she remembered was that his hands were a little smaller than Jack’s and that he didn’t smell of cinnamon. Rolling onto her stomach, she slid her hands under the pillow and pressed her burning cheeks into the cool linen. Her hands encountered a hard object.

Curious, she struggled up and opened a small, alabaster box. A pair of diamond earbobs rested on red velvet and glittered in the weak light. They matched the necklace Jack had already given her. Snapping the lid shut, she pushed the box away and let herself give in to a hearty fit of weeping.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

AFTER TWO NEAR misses with poorly managed phaetons, Constance and Virginia entered Hyde Park on horseback and rode along the Kings Highway, or Rotten Row, as Jack and Virginia called it. Since they hadn’t managed to get out since Constance’s arrival, she was relieved to spend some time on her horse and away from Jack.

Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to avoid him in the house today. He had even caught her before she went riding—twirling her through an open door and kissing her senseless amongst the clean linens.

Given the cheeky smile Jack had given her when he let her come up for air, Constance thought he would try it again. That was why she had to leave. If she was nearby, Jack would forget his responsibilities. She did not want to be that kind of distraction. He had made a promise to another woman. Constance was only in the way.

Of course, now that she realized she loved Jack, her situation was grim. She couldn’t honestly dredge up any interest in securing a husband. She wasn’t the woman to mend Abernathy’s broken heart. She’d burned the list this morning, tucked away the gifts she would leave behind, and begun to plan to return home on the mail coach.

Today’s ride was her farewell to her horse too. Falentine would stay with the marquess. She couldn’t bear to sell the mare to cover the debts, so she would let Jack take Falentine back where she would be well cared for.

The Row teemed with eager riders. They occasionally paused so Virginia could introduce her to other acquaintances, but their greetings were thankfully short. Every rider was keen to keep moving. However, she could not escape the sensation of scrutiny and longed for privacy. There were too many eyes watching, eager to see her made a fool of again.

She and Virginia kicked their horses to a canter, letting the ever-present grooms follow along. Having the marquess’ liveried servants trailing behind added more discomfort to her day, a constant reminder of how spoiled she'd become. Little luxuries, servants to fetch and carry out her every whim, would become an unpleasant memory to torture herself with in Fleet. The thought of debtor's prison chilled her, but she wouldn’t let her grim future spoil this day.

As they approached a bend in the broad sweep, Constance spied a body of water—the Serpentine, she supposed—and a group of riders milling just off the track. She recognized Miss Scaling, her mother, and Lord Wade watching riders file past. Mrs. Scaling waved and good manners gave them no choice but to slow their pace.

“What a surprise to see you, Lady Orkney,” Mrs. Scaling greeted Virginia, but she did not acknowledge Constance’s presence. “Now we are guaranteed a splendid ride.”

Virginia inclined her head, but didn’t speak. She caught Constance's eye and nodded toward the path. Constance urged her horse alongside Virginia's dappled grey, but inside she fumed. This was to be her first, last, and only ride in London. She didn’t want to share the moment with rude people.

As they rode along at an elegantly slow pace, Virginia's horse grew agitated by the unfamiliar horse crowding her other side. Falentine danced aside to give the grey room and Constance watched anxiously until Virginia settled the high-strung gelding.

But while she wasn’t paying enough attention, Miss Scaling smoothly drew her horse between them and Constance found herself separated from Virginia. When Lord Wade’s gelding joined her other side, Falentine began to toss her head, unhappy with her new companions. Wade’s gelding nosed her mare in a most uncomfortable way, and Constance had no choice but to back her up.

“I say, that’s a very fine piece of horseflesh,” Lord Wade noted, turning his mount to follow.

Given that none of the party had deemed her fit to speak to before, Constance bristled at the abrupt statement.

“Is that a touch of envy I hear, Lord Wade?” Her tone lacked civility, but she failed to care. “I cannot expect you to be familiar with a horse from Lord Ettington’s extensive stables, given your limited acquaintance with him. Excuse me.”

It would be better if everyone believed her horse belonged to Jack. She directed Falentine away from the Scaling party and looked for her groom. She was done with trying to fit in. She didn’t belong in London. She didn’t belong in Jack and Virginia's world, and she was going back to Ettington House to begin packing.