The Battling Bluestocking (31 page)

“Good God,” Sir Brian muttered under his breath.

“Just so, sir. I scarcely dare to imagine what scrape she will next fall into.”

“Jessica, you cannot…that is, I must…” He broke off, looking harassed, and when Bates entered the room just then to announce that dinner was served, Sir Brian’s expression changed to one of mingled frustration and relief.

For a moment Jessica had feared that she had somehow said something to vex him, and she wondered what he had been about to say. But the company was too small for formality, and the conversation at the table became general at once, as they discussed the events of that morning. Thus, there was no immediate opportunity for a private word with him. Afterward, however, Lady Susan informed the gentlemen that since they were dining
en famille
, they might have their port served in the drawing room if they liked. This invitation being promptly accepted, the company withdrew to the first floor again.

Jessica could wait no longer. As the gentlemen followed the ladies into the drawing room, she took the first opportunity to catch Sir Brian’s attention by the simple expedient of laying her fan upon his sleeve and speaking in a low tone.

“Sir, I must have private speech with you. Will you walk with me in the garden?”

Both eyebrows lifted. “Is the square garden not rather a public place for private speech at this hour, my dear? Surely, even to walk round to the gate would cause comment if we were observed.”

“I was referring to my aunt’s garden,” she said, looking down at her hands and thus missing the twinkle that leapt to his eyes. “Please, sir. ’Tis important.”

“Very well,” he replied, “for I confess, I would also like to have a word with you, but I’ve not the slightest doubt that we shall both be called to account by your aunt for our actions. Come along, then.”

He held open the door for her, and glancing back, Jessica saw that her aunt’s eye was certainly upon them. But there was affectionate amusement in Lady Susan’s expression, and she made no attempt to call them back.

They went downstairs, through the front hall, and along a narrow corridor to the door leading outside to the rear garden. Upon emerging from the house and descending the few shallow steps to the pathway, they discovered a crescent moon and a myriad of twinkling stars overhead that cast an eerie silvery light over the shadowy shrubs and trees. The garden was small but laid out in a formal pattern of gravel paths that wound about through the shrubbery. They had walked for some moments in silence, their feet crunching on the gravel, before Sir Brian said softly that no doubt she would begin, in her own good time, to tell him what was on her mind.

Jessica bit her lip, looking down at the silvery path, quite unable to think what she ought to say first. Suddenly his hand was on her shoulder, and firmly he guided her to a stone bench. Removing his jacket, he placed it on the bench for her to sit upon.

“Oh, sir, I couldn’t,” she protested, looking quickly up at him. “I would ruin your coat.”

“I shan’t regard it,” he assured her, pressing her to sit. “Or do you fear I cannot afford another?”

“No, of course not.” She fell silent again when he sat down beside her. His nearness made it almost impossible for her to think straight.

“What is it that is so important, Jessica?” He spoke quietly, and there was little inflection in his voice. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

“I…I wanted to thank you for all you have done to help us, sir,” she began, speaking with difficulty. Her mouth was dry. “And…and also to apologize for anything I might have done which has vexed you.”

“Your gratitude is misplaced, my dear, and I am not at all vexed with you.”

“Well, I thought perhaps you were before supper, and…well, there have been other times, of course. I know you think I am headstrong, sir, and…and willful, but truly I am neither. I merely have little patience with people who do not meet difficulties straight on.”

“A gentleman must always hesitate to contradict a lady,” he replied gently, “but I do not think you headstrong. Merely a trifle impulsive at times.”

She turned her gaze searchingly upon him, and though the moon cast but dim light, she could see enough to tell her that he was in earnest.

“Yet you resented it when I criticized you for unmasking the princess,” she pointed out. When he did not deny it, she pressed on. “And you were furious when I confronted that sweep without first consulting you.” Sir Brian still said nothing. “Then, too, it must have annoyed you when I was constantly—and I fear, falsely—accusing you of exploiting people in your mines and on your plantations, did it not?”

In answer, Sir Brian put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “I believe my temper must be quite as fiery as your own, my dear, for I cannot deny that you have frequently given me occasion to lose it, but you have never given me cause for more than momentary vexation. If I resented your criticism about the devilish princess business, it was only because I recognized truth in the things you said. And if I lost my temper when you ventured into Cheapside, it was truly out of concern for your safety, although you had cause to disbelieve that. As to the mines and plantations, I can only say that, while I do my poor best to make things as bearable as possible for my people, I know of no acceptable way to make things truly right in your eyes. I do not own vast plantations, only one fairly large one; however, I cannot deny owning slaves. I would offer to sell the lot, but I cannot feel that that would be to their advantage, you know, for there is no telling how their new masters would treat them. And I do not feel that I can merely set them free when there is no good place for them to go, and when they are not trained to care for themselves.”

“I was wrong about your mines,” Jessica said quietly.

“Not entirely. There are certainly dangers, and I do hire both women and children—though not the very young ones—but no one is overworked or mistreated, my dear, and the mines provide quite a good living for my people.”

“Still, I was wrong about a number of things.”

“Yes.”

He was silent, and Jessica felt a niggling exasperation. She had certainly given him every opportunity, if he still wished it, to declare himself. She had not even argued with him over his plantation or his mines. Indeed, she found his explanations completely acceptable. Even with regard to the problem of his slaves, she knew now that they could work together to do whatever was right. Still, he said nothing. She peeped up at him again through her thick lashes.

“Were you wrong, too, sir, when you said you believed I was the exact sort of woman you had searched for all your life?”

His arm tightened around her shoulders, sending little arrows of fire shooting through her veins. “No, Jessica,” he said softly, “I was not wrong. I think I fell in love with you that first day at Shaldon Park when you demanded poor Andrew’s head on a platter. I knew I was in love the day you planted me in Gordon’s rose garden.”

“Then why have you never asked me to marry you?” she demanded, straightening indignantly.

“I am not such a fool, sweetheart,” he retorted, but in a gentle tone. “You were so damned elusive at first that I feared my suit would never prosper. Later, you showed yourself to be so jealous of your independence that I was certain you would reject me out of sheer contrariness. Then, too, there was a time when I did believe you to be a younger version of your aunt, with your mind too set upon curing the evils of the world to consider marriage. And later, what with the trial looming over us, I could scarcely make a push to convince you to marry me. For one thing, I was afraid you might accept simply because you were vulnerable and needed someone to support your spirits, and second…” He hesitated, shooting her a rueful look. “Second, I was worried lest the trial go wrong. If anything happened to Lady Susan, I was afraid you might hold me responsible, say I had mismanaged her affairs just as I’d mishandled the business of Andrew and his princess.”

“Oh, Brian, I do not think I would have said such a thing,” she protested.

“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “Nonetheless, when I discussed the matter with Lady Susan, she agreed that any declaration on my part could prove hazardous to our future happiness if I did not first assure myself of victory. She recommended that, with that end in view, I ought to treat you casually. I confess, though I thought it excellent advice at the time, there have been moments when it has been well nigh impossible advice to follow.”

“Was that why you paid heed to other women? To make me jealous?”

He nodded ruefully. “Your aunt suggested that I single out one woman, but I found I could not do such a thing.”

“I’m glad.” There was more silence. Jessica regarded her hands as they fidgeted with the fan in her lap. Then, in a small voice that she scarcely recognized as her own, she said, “You could, I think, be assured of victory now, Brian. That is, unless you feel, despite my age, that you ought to speak first to Papa.”

He chuckled. “Your age, oh ancient one, is perfect, and I have already taken the liberty of speaking to your esteemed sire. We have his blessing.”

Her eyes flew open at that, and she turned sharply to regard him with amazement. “You have already spoken to my father? When?”

“Before I went in search of Woodbury,” he confessed, “I traveled into Gloucestershire.”

“Brian, you wretch!” She remembered thinking he had been gone an unconscionably long time merely to have gone to Shaldon Park and thence to north Devon. Cocking her head, she favored him with a measuring look and lifted her fan as though she would rap his knuckles. “You told me once that you always work within the system to get what you want, sir. If this is an example of your methods, let me tell—”

“This,” he said, crushing her against him, “is an example of my methods, love.” His lips claimed hers, and Jessica responded instantly to their touch, letting the fan fall unheeded from her hand, and melting against him as her arms encircled his hard body. Within moments she was lost to her surroundings as his hands gently caressed her breasts, causing them to swell achingly beneath the soft, clinging silk. His tongue probed at her soft lips and soon invaded her mouth, searching its velvet interior as his kisses became more urgent. Jessica’s responses were equally fervent. Her pulses seemed to pound, and when his hands and fingers began to move at random over her body, bringing sweet torment with every touch, her breathing became ragged.

“Well, upon my word!”

Startled, Jessica leapt away from Sir Brian, trying desperately to straighten her gown, while her brother-in-law glared disapprovingly through his quizzing glass at her. They had been too involved in each other to hear any sound of Lord Gordon’s approach.

“I say, Jessica,” he growled, “I’d not have believed it of you.”

Sir Brian chuckling at Jessica’s discomfiture as he bent over to retrieve her fan, cast Lord Gordon a lazy glance. “You may congratulate me, my lord. With Mr. Sutton-Drew’s permission, your sister-in-law has consented to be my wife.”

“Well, upon my word, is that so?” Cyril considered the information for a moment before a welcome thought occurred to him. “I say, that’s good news, very good news indeed, for I can tell you, Jessica, I was in a dashed quandary. That devilish aunt of yours is going on something fearful about tearing down all the old prisons and building modern ones staffed with proper servants and furnished with carpeting and I don’t know what all. But if you are to marry Gregory here, then Lady Susan can dashed well live with you and he will see to it that she don’t—”

“Cyril, what on earth are you doing out here?” demanded Lady Susan, swooping down upon his lordship from behind, followed by the general and Lady Gordon. “Of all the tactless…” While she continued to scold, Sir Brian glanced at Jessica, his eyes twinkling.

She grinned back at him, then turned to the others.

“Aunt Susan,” she said mischievously, “Cyril was just being so obliging as to suggest that you might choose to live with Sir Brian and me after we are married.”

“Well, of all the idiotish…Married?” Lady Susan straightened, darting a searching gaze at her niece before turning with a smile to Sir Brian. “So you’ve got that business all right and tight at last.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied soberly.

“But what,” she demanded, casting Lord Gordon a dark look, “would possess Cyril to think I should choose to inflict my presence upon you? I cannot conceive of anything more odious to a pair of newlyweds than to be saddled with an aged aunt.”

“I think,” Sir Brian said gently, “that he means for us to keep you from falling into any more scrapes.”

“Well, of all the—”

“Pack of nonsense!” snapped the general at the same time, moving up to place a calming hand upon Lady Susan’s shoulder. “I shall see to it that Susan comes to no harm.”

Amazed, Jessica waited for her aunt to contradict him, only to find her astonishment increasing when Lady Susan, looking self-conscious, said nothing at all.

Lord Gordon looked from her ladyship to the general. “Upon my word,” he muttered.

“Yes, Cyril,” said his lady, taking him firmly by the elbow, “but everyone has heard enough of your words for one night, you know. You come back inside with me.” When he hesitated, she gave an imperious little tug to his sleeve. “At once, my lord. I doubt it is doing your heir any good for his mother to be standing about in the chilly night air.”

“To be sure,” he agreed promptly. Then, collecting himself, he hurried after her. “I say, Georgeanne, that is no way to speak to your husband.” As his scolding voice faded into the distance, Lady Susan laughingly observed that dearest Georgeanne was learning to manage her husband very nicely, and then suggested that perhaps they should all repair indoors to the warmth of the drawing-room fire.

General Potterby tucked her ladyship’s hand into the crook of his arm, and Sir Brian, rising from the bench, prepared to follow, but Jessica put a hand on his arm.

“One moment, sir, if you please.”

He turned, smiling. “Yes, love?”

“I daresay it has quite escaped your notice,” she said demurely, “but you have still not made me a proper offer.”