Undone by His Kiss (32 page)

He strode toward the window and stopped short of the staircase to lean against the lathe-turned banister as if wishing would deliver Emily to the door. What color would she wear tonight? Would her misgivings over attending suffocate all ability for her enjoyment of the evening? He certainly hoped not. After Dash and Whimsy had agreed to his suggestion, the three of them had kept the guest list simple. There would be more than a few kind faces. Wilhelmina’s Aunt Kate and sister, Lavinia, were cheerful additions to the party as well as Randolph Beaufort and Oliver Nicholson. Rarely did one fail to produce a smile in Randolph’s company, and Oliver offered a congenial familiarity that should help Emily feel more comfortable. That is, as long as one didn’t take life too seriously. Of course, that presented a contradiction in itself. Jasper shook his head with the muddle of it all and startled when a knock broke through his musings.

A servant attended the messenger at the door and while Jasper watched with mild interest, he experienced genuine surprise when the silver salver was presented before him, the missive finding him at this address. He accepted the note, held tightly in his grasp as the servant bustled away to tend to an endless list of preparations.

It took half a glance to ascertain the letter came from Miss Shaw, but would the contents cause him discontent? Had she waited to this late moment to beg off, claiming a poor stomach, a troubling megrim, or worse, her mother’s condition?

He stared at the note as if demanding the words not disappoint before he break the seal. Long seconds passed as he steeled his courage until at last he turned the letter in his palms. He raised it to his nose, the soft scent of rosewater and bitter orange, now familiar, simmering through his senses bringing with it an immediate response, the heavy thud of his heart in his chest.

“Was that a messenger at the door?” Wilhelmina took the stairs with hurried enthusiasm, her curiosity overriding her usual grace. “I hope no one has decided to decline our gathering this evening. Guests should arrive as soon as two hours from now.”

Jasper met her gentle interrogation with an amused grin. “Then I best begin dressing.”

“Oh yes, I know you’ll want to look your finest. I’m about the same purpose, although I thought to check on the arrangements one last time before sequestering myself in my bedchambers at the mercy of my maid.” She eyed him in silent perlustration. “This evening will be the ideal test for my sister’s endurance. I’m anxious for her to feel comfortable within society. She goes on about waltzing and flirting, but I’ve a more speculative concern over her stamina.” She flicked him a quick glance, full-knowing she’d avoided the root of his disquiet. And then with the intuitive consideration she possessed in bounty, she offered him a reassuring smile. “It will turn out fine.”

How perfectly aware of his dear sister-in-law, but then, it would take one with great depth of emotion to love his sharp-edged brother so thoroughly. Did his concern show in his eyes?

“I appreciate your kindness, Whimsy.” He slanted a quick glance to the letter in his hand. “I certainly hope so.”

“Good heavens, Jasper, it is impossible not to care for you. You’re a very fine gentleman. Besides, if the lady has confessed her emotions, there’s no unboiling an egg. If true love lives in her heart, she’ll not be able to deny you, much less once you’re dandified in formal eveningwear.”

The reassurance was meant to ease his mind and perhaps provoke a smile. He appreciated Whimsy’s carefree support, but for once, more than the casual approach which usually accompanied his outlook on life, he wondered at the truth of it all and whether or not the love Emily had confessed when they lay in each other’s arms was a result of the situation more than an honest emotion. Or worse, if it existed, would remain strong enough to endure her mother’s appearance tonight, and whether fate or serendipity would provide a smooth evening so Emily wouldn’t be frightened back into that little cage she’d constructed around her heart, barring the door against his intentions.

He must have contemplated too long because with a gentle touch to his shoulder, Wilhelmina continued down the hallway and out of sight. Silence enveloped him and he settled all attention to the message in his grasp. With a deep exhale he broke the seal and opened the vellum to read one word written in sweeping feminine script.

Tonight.

Enclosed in the note, tied with a sliver of ribbon, was a lock of hair, one silky wave, rich glossy chestnut, and as Jasper removed the cherished token and gently placed it beneath the cover of his pocket watch; he couldn’t contain the slow smile that spread across his face.

How foolish to be anxiously perched on the edge of the carriage bench as if the time spent in travel to Kirby Park was unbearable.

But it was.

Somehow freeing her emotions, allowing herself to love, had made everything more meaningful. Colors seemed brighter, music more joyful, even the usual birdsong or slanted sunlight, seemed a newfound miracle of nature. She stifled an inward laugh. This is what love felt like. This is why her mother had clung so tightly to the past.

She shifted her eyes to Bianca, seated primly on the opposite bolster, every fold of her skirts perfectly in place. She appeared delightfully at ease, her expression one of pleasant neutrality, not the slightest hint of apprehension evident.

Oh, Emily wasn’t fooled into thinking everything had returned to normal. Nor did she assume her mother was once again restored to an even-tempered countenance. But somehow, by Emily accepting Jasper’s love and sharing her feelings with her mother, in turn, her mother had found a new understanding of the situation and an acceptance that proved elusive to this point.

She’d noted a few instances today when Bianca had become melancholic. A slight misting of the eyes or a forlorn glance downward both clues her mother’s thoughts had wandered to regretful memories, but at least great strides had been taken to turn their lives to rights. Mother was out of the house, on the way to a social where she’d wear a lovely gown, her pride rejuvenated with a forgotten verve from their visit to the modiste. The three circumstances constituted more progress than Emily had ever accomplished, not to mention Mother’s lively, focused conversation and balanced disposition. Perhaps Emily’s shift in perspective and respect of her mother’s decisions had led to this overture. Or perhaps it was simply, time. Time for new beginnings and a healthy distance from the past. There was no way to know.

An exuberant smile broke across Emily’s face, her optimism for the evening churning tighter and tighter with each revolution of carriage wheels on cobblestones. Tonight she would meet Jasper’s family and friends, discover his childhood home and most importantly, issue her apology. Her note had been the beginning, but their future wouldn’t truly be resolved until she spoke to him and made amends. Of course, in logical conclusion, a kiss would follow. The thought sent a shimmering thrill through her so vibrant; she squirmed in her seat, each one of her senses attuned to the decadent memory of their lovemaking.

The carriage rattled to a stop and her mother’s eyes flared wide with the realization. Anxious to settle her own nerves, she reached across and clasped her mother’s gloved hands with affection. So much had changed in just a few short days.

“Tonight is about new beginnings, Mother. Let us have the most wonderful time so we can look forward to a bright future.” She angled her head with a sincere smile.

“I’ve failed you in many ways, but I want things to be better now. My self-loathing became a cloak of security that impinged on your life. You may not believe me, or realize, but I worried over your independence, your desire to live apart from anyone. I understand now you wished to shield yourself from further disappointment. I’m so sorry for my behavior. I can’t promise how I’ll handle my emotions in the future, but please know I’m trying to move on from the pain. It’s time to let go of the past.”

“That is all I could ask for, Mother.” Emily smiled, not just a placation meant to assuage her mother, but a true expression of happiness. “We should go.”

“Of course.” Her mother sounded a trifle breathless. “I’m ready.”

They disembarked and took the front steps, a servant opening the double doors of the fine country estate before they had the opportunity to knock.

Chapter 32

“And no matter where the conversation wanders, do not mention Kellaway or his parents.”

“Understood.” Dash arched a brow and speared Jasper a glare of practiced tolerance. “You’ve already mentioned that bit twice. Is there anything else? You’ve cornered me in the study when I should be in the front hall beside Whimsy as she greets our guests.”

“Have a care.” Jasper clasped his hands together and then dropped them to his sides. Unrelenting restlessness had set in an hour prior and the only respite to be had was found in verbal sparring with his brother. “The very last thing I want is to supply Emily with an excuse to leave.”

“You’re that committed?” Dash approached with a barely concealed look of amusement. “You’re sure? She’s the one?” His voice acquired his usual inquisitorial tone.

“She’s not
the one
, Dash.” Jasper shook his head and smiled despite the serious nature of their conversation. “She’s my heart.”

“Then by all means let’s get on with this evening.” Dashwood waved his hand toward the door in a signal of reassurance and incentive, his answer a tad impatient “All will be right.”

“That’s what Whimsy said earlier.”

“Then you should discard your worries, this evening’s locked up. Never has my wife been incorrect. She possesses a high level of intelligence. Lest you forget, she chose me as her husband.” Dash opened the study door and moved aside in a hurry.

“Is that a jest? Did the sixth Earl of Dashwood attempt jocularity?” Jasper stepped into the hallway, the edge of tension beginning to settle at his brother’s effort to reassure.

“Very funny. Now let’s go.” He nodded vigorously toward the stairs. “Otherwise I may feel compelled to regale Miss Shaw with tales of your childhood mishaps. Do you remember the time you stuffed yourself with so much raspberry fool, when Father threw you into the air in greeting you—”

“Point taken.” Jasper managed to contain a bark of laughter. “After you.”

Jasper followed his brother down the hall, innumerable thoughts bombarding his brain. What would Emily say? What would she wear? He patted his waistcoat, securing his pocket watch kept her lock of hair safely tucked away. There was no need to reinvent love. He was quite fond of the old-fashioned kind. And what he and Emily felt when they lay together was undeniable. Still, their bond did not begin or end with a passionate caress. That might have proven their beginning, their spark to build a future, but it definitely supplied no end.

Joyful chatter met his ears as he entered the hall. He flanked Dash on the verge of some hesitation and overtook the foyer where at least ten people milled in laughter and conversation. He stepped around Beaufort and Oliver, and Whimsy’s relations, and then stalled as if confronted with a perplexing question for which he had no answer, each one of his senses in high riot.

He shouldn’t have dawdled with his brother.

Emily, as magnificent as the first rose of summer, stood beneath one of the high-strung decorative garlands, all other flowers bowed in veneration. She appeared as he’d never seen her, dressed in an evening gown of novel design, the exquisite silk in the deepest shade of saffron, reminiscent of the sunglow at the afternoon’s end, when one experienced internal satisfaction from a day well spent. His body warmed from the inside out. Breathing deep, he took in every inch of the goddess before him. Long, silky chestnut waves cascaded over bare shoulders, her skin as smooth as the silk that hugged every curve and contour of her slim figure, the bodice low enough to tempt imagination, high enough to dare exploration. Her gown was an elegant design, free of flounces and frivolous ruffles, a sleek swath of silk over skin. He followed the line of her profile, across her chin and little heart-shaped face up to her eyes which couldn’t appear any bluer, lit with anticipation and the glitter of excitement.

Lost in the enchantment of her wistful expression, he stood motionless in the foyer of Kirby Park reminded of comfort and long-lost memories, hopes and dreams, the bright spark of his future, and most of all, the woman he loved, breathtaking and beautiful.

She turned then, aware the hall had gone quiet in an imposed silence that could only have everyone holding their breath, wondering what he would do after he’d plundered through the small crowd and stopped abruptly at the center.

Bianca stifled a little squeak in her throat where she stood near Emily, her eyes agleam, her attention riveted to the development, though she’d already cozied beside Aunt Kate in conversation.

Necessity forced him forward, although he might have stayed there another hour admiring Emily and memorizing the scene. Still after initial greetings, his first request fell to Bianca rather than the lady in question. “May I have the honor of escorting your daughter through our estate gardens after dinner?”

A fast flash of panic lit Emily’s eyes. Perhaps the thought of separating or the loss of control over the situation rooted her distress, but her mother’s reply was the veritable salve.

“Of course, Mr. St. David. Emily would be honored.”

A heartbeat of reluctance held Emily firm, but when her mother’s lids flared in silent communication, he noticed the corners of Emily’s mouth tip upward in the onset of a nervous smile.

A bell signaled dinner and the guests continued into the dining room. Jasper offered his escort and the warmth of Emily’s hand nestled in the crook of his elbow brought with it a rush of other delightful memories, all which stirred the anxious desire to taste her delectable lips.

Serious consideration had gone into the arrangement of seating, the guests intimately arranged, yet carefully selected, and the conversation flourished from the first course, a delicate veal broth.

“Livie is regaining her stability and stamina with great leaps and bounds.” Whimsy’s Aunt Kate spoke in a louder tone than most, her considerable hearing loss part of the reason. “I’m so proud of my niece and the effort she’s made to improve her health.”