In the Garden of Disgrace (25 page)

“Why?”

“He had just come from seeing Simon, and
your brother asked Phillip to return to the city to talk to
me.”

“About…?”

“Edgeworth.”

“Oh, why couldn’t they have left you out of
this?” She wanted to wring her hands but instead continued to
clutch them tightly in her lap.

“I’d have found out sooner or later on my
own. Besides, I’m involved, Jillian. How could you think I wouldn’t
be?”

She bristled. “Because I don’t want you to
be. Because this is humiliating and I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I can help.”

“The only thing that will help is for me to
go home and I can’t do that yet. Aunt Pru is not ready to
leave.”

“She’s still not well?”

Jillian shook her head sadly. “I don’t think
this trip has much to do with her ailment. She’s back in Bath near
her friends and she’s happy. She stays in the country far more than
she would if it were not for me. I hold her back and that’s not
fair. She’s old and deserves to spend her last years pleasurably. I
think that’s why she drinks in the country.”

“Go home without her.”

“She won’t let me. She says I need her for a
chaperon.”

Adrian’s eyes darkened with memory. “We both
know she’s not good at it,” he said meaningfully.

Jillian felt a thrill of excitement that
caused her lungs to contract. She dropped her gaze to her hands
which had begun to ache from their clasped condition, unable to
think of anything remotely intelligent to say.

“Jillian?”

For the first time she detected a hesitation
in him and she raised her eyes to meet his. “Yes?”

“Is there cause for worry?”

She knew to what he referred, and oddly she
found the words hard to express. “You need not concern yourself, my
lord. There is no child.” She deliberately kept her voice cool. “I
think we will weather the crisis without exposure.”

Adrian nodded but his gaze was so
penetrating, it was as if he wanted to understand not only what was
in her statement but in her soul.

“You are happy then,” he said.

Jillian thought relieved more aptly
described her feelings but she did not dispute him. “How could I
not be? Regardless of what you might think, I do hate being the
object of gossip warranted or unwarranted.”

“There is an easy solution to all your
problems.”

“Marriage?” When he dipped his head Jillian
continued, deciding to be honest with him. “It does seem that way,
doesn’t it? But every time I think on it I become frightened. I
don’t know you, my lord. It took me a long time to find peace, and
now my whole world is upside down. I don’t think I’ve ever been
more confused.”

“It’s Edgeworth,” he said darkly. “You still
have feelings for him, don’t you?”

Jillian stopped, surprised, for Lionel had
not entered her mind. In fact, to compare the earl to Lord
Edgeworth was no comparison at all. She might not know Adrian well
but she knew for certain he was the better man. However, he had
given her the perfect excuse.

“Perhaps,” she lied. When his brows lowered
ominously, she hurried on, “Perhaps not. I told you I’m confused. I
don’t know what I feel right now.” That for the most part was
true.

Adrian stood and crossed the room to stand
over her, his features a mask of furious determination. “If he
comes near you I swear I’ll make him regret it.”

She jumped to her feet which brought her
within inches of his glowering face. Jillian could sense the
outrage radiating from his rigid body, and she suddenly felt the
need to tamp the anger she had carelessly started.

“Adrian, please, for my sake do not bring
attention to my plight. We’ll be right where we were eight years
ago.” His attitude remained implacable thus she rushed on. “There
are innocent people of whom we must think. Lionel is married.” He
snorted his contempt, whether for Meredith or Meredith’s
philandering husband she was uncertain. “Maybe you have a point,”
she agreed, “but what about Aunt Prudence? And now Phillip is here.
And don’t believe for a moment Simon and his family won’t be
touched by a new scandal, for they will be.”

“If I’m not mistaken the talk has already
begun. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“Please.” Jillian touched his sleeve and
looked at him imploringly.

His attention drifted to her fingers resting
lightly on his coat, the muscles of his jaw working while he
clenched and unclenched his teeth. He brought his gaze back to
hers, and what she saw glinting in his light blue eyes made her
want to step away from him. Though her insides began to quiver she
held her ground.

“What will you give me?” he asked, the words
hoarse.

She blinked. “What do you want?”

“Kiss me, Jillian.”

“You’re angry at me,” she whispered, desire
flickering into life. “You couldn’t possibly want to kiss me.”

“Oh, but I do—I do.”

“Will you promise to make no trouble where
Lord Edgeworth is concerned?”

“Where Edgeworth is concerned I make no
promises. You must leave your old betrothed to me. But I will
promise to avoid any scenes that might embarrass you or anyone for
whom you care.”

“That’s not much of a bargain.”

“Is it better than the alternative?”

Captivated by the gathering heat in his
expression, Jillian nodded reluctantly. She was afraid to say no,
afraid he would end the moment, for no matter how she denied it
aloud in her heart she knew she had missed him.

“Jillian?”

“You give me no choice, my lord.”

“Then…” Adrian brought his hand to the back
of her neck.

He took her lips hungrily and, dropping his
hand, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the floor. He
wanted her to kiss him? Well, she did, meeting him with equal
fervor, savoring the feel of his warm mouth, running her fingers
through his thick, dark hair.

A startled gasp at the entrance to the
parlor caused them to freeze. Jillian faced away from the door but
Adrian did not, and the chagrin on his features told her they had
been caught in the act. Slowly his hold on her loosened as he
allowed her to slip downward until her feet touched the floor.

Jillian steeled herself and swung around. As
she had feared her aunt stood in the doorway, face bright red,
huffing in embarrassment.

“Dear me,” the old lady moaned, “I-I didn’t
mean to intrude.” She stepped backward into the hall but stopped as
if something had occurred to her. She marched into the room again.
“No, no, that’s not how it goes. I’m the chaperon, you know. I’m
supposed to say—” she turned on the earl, shaking her finger. “You
forget yourself, young man!” Clearly pleased with herself, she
asked, “What do you have to say to that?”

Adrian, seeming disconcerted, grinned at Pru
halfheartedly. “What
can
I say, ma’am? You are correct. In
my defense, I can only say it’s been several weeks since I’ve seen
your niece. Truth is I’ve missed her.”

Jillian glanced at him and a very tender
emotion—one she refused to identify—clogged her throat. He looked
endearingly handsome in his contrition, hair all mussed, and she
wondered if perhaps she had wronged him. Adrian said he had missed
her, not only when he wanted to seduce her but had said the same to
Aunt Pru just now. And he had proved it because as angry as he had
been with her, he had come back. She was going to have to think
about that, yes, she was…

“And I should think so,” Prudence was saying
in a severe voice, although she appeared to have lost her momentum
as if Adrian’s earnest confession had touched her also.

“I will take my leave of you, ladies,” the
earl said. He turned to Jillian. “I see no reason for you to hide
in this house. Phillip is here to play escort and I will do what I
can. Might as well brave it out.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

He smiled ruefully. “Nothing’s easy where
you are concerned, love.”

She saw him to the door then returned to the
parlor where she knew her aunt awaited her.

“Go ahead,” Jillian said upon entering the
room and flopping on the settee. “Say what you will. I deserve it.
I don’t know what gets into me when that man is around. I’m either
in a seething rage or…” she trailed off, unable to continue aloud
with the thought without divulging things best left unsaid.

“And who can blame you, dear.” Pru sighed
the words, her gaze distant as she sat down next to her niece.
“Can’t ever remember being kissed by a gentleman like that. If I
weren’t old and debilitated I might almost be envious.”

“Why, Aunt Pru, there are sides to you I’ve
never guessed.”

“Naturally, there are. I was young once. Now
I suggest we come back to the present,” Prudence said briskly. “You
must make a decision, Jillian. Either you want this young man or
you do not. Your lack of resolve becomes foolish.”

“Auntie?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever been in love, not infatuation
but really in love?”

“I thought so once. As the years passed I
wasn’t as certain.”

“Why didn’t you marry him?”

The old woman looked at her directly. “He
didn’t ask me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It was for the best, dear.” Aunt Pru patted
Jillian’s hand as though her niece were the one who should be
comforted.

“Don’t you see? Maybe that’s the way it is
for me as well. I’m attracted to Lord Wickham—I like him even—but
I’m not certain we suit. Marriage is not something one can put on
easily and take off when it becomes inconvenient as if it were a
coat. It is a permanent condition. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Prudence nodded. “One of the decisions you
have to make.”

“And Adrian is very managing, you know.”

“Most men are. The trick is in discovering
which ones will share the power, which ones will be fair. A wise
man does not hoard the deck of cards simply because he can. He cuts
the deck in two equal parts and gives his wife half. That way she
can be in the game. Otherwise he plays alone and there’s hardly any
sport in that.”

“Very philosophical.” Jillian smiled her
surprise.

“Point is, dear, you have no reason to be
distrustful. You’ve had wonderful examples of fine men all around
you—your father and most assuredly Simon—loyal, trustworthy. You
should be able to judge Lord Wickham with a learned eye. If you’re
asking me, I think the earl is a good man. He’s sown his oats and
he’s now ready to settle down.”

Jillian was beginning to think the same way.
“Thing is,” she felt her cheeks redden for what she was about to
say, “he’s very overpowering. I feel swallowed up by his presence.
Sometimes it is rather exciting, and other times…”

“Well, yes, a gentleman with his charisma, I
see what you mean. But, Jillian, I suspect you have much the same
effect on him. He hardly takes his eyes off you when you are in the
room.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I think he’s angry with me right now,”
Jillian said, picking nonexistent lint from her skirt.

Aunt Prudence chuckled. “Of course, he is
since you go out of your way to anger him. Does him good, probably.
Keeps him wondering. It is never prudent to allow a man with his
sort of ego to become too confident.”

“He believes I still care for Lord
Edgeworth.”

“You told him that?”

Jillian cringed under her aunt’s appalled
stare. “Not exactly. He said it and I didn’t disagree with
him.”

“Why, Jillian? Why?” Aunt Prudence came off
the settee and stood over her, hands on hips. “I think you had
better give some thought to why you are acting self-destructively.
Making a man jealous, one as intense as Lord Wickham, can be a
dangerous thing. There is a difference between keeping a gentleman
wondering and precipitating a disaster, especially when you care
nothing for Lord Edgeworth.” She looked at her niece with that
erratic perceptiveness—always unexpected—which made those subjected
to it squirm. “I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t care for Lord
Edgeworth, do you?”

“No, I don’t. I feared at first I might
because I thought I loved him once. Even that I’m not certain of
any more.” Jillian rose from the settee to stand by her aunt. “In
fact, I have felt my misfortune in many ways over the years,
however, I begin to see that I should be thankful. I can’t help
wondering what my life would be like if I were married to Lionel
today.”

Aunt Pru’s eyes widened in sudden
understanding. “Indeed.”

And after all, what more was there to
say?

*****

Adrian strode back and forth the length of
his rented room, chewing on his anger as if it were a piece of
grizzled meat. Chewing, yes, but he damned sure wasn’t going to
swallow it. He had known from the beginning he must overcome
Jillian’s reservations, but it had not occurred to him that he
might have to defeat the specter of a lost love.

Jillian obviously had never looked at
Edgeworth with a critical eye. If she had she would have seen that
Lionel Hemsley was the same variety of man as the one whom Adrian
had killed in self-defense on a dueling field eight years before—
dishonest, a profligate, a man who would cause any woman who loved
him an extraordinary amount of pain. That was how he perceived
Edgeworth in the past, and he suspected the bounder had not changed
in the intervening years.

Something else bothered Adrian as well. He
was surprised by how stung he had felt when Jillian had not denied
her interest in her former fiance. After what they had experienced
together, could she put an old and probably immature love ahead of
her feelings for him? The earl found that possibility
untenable.

He’d had many weeks while in London to
assess his growing attachment for Jillian. At first he had decided
he “cared” for her, a caring primarily based on physical
attraction. The attraction was still there, no doubt, as he had
been forcefully reminded when he had seen her this afternoon. But
there was something else, something he now was obliged to
confront.