The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride (17 page)

“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded.

“Why not, Jez? I’ll not stand by as you find another man to fill the shoes of what you envision the perfect husband for your circumstance.”

“You’re being cruel.” She released him, tucking her hands behind her back, and looked to her slippers where they peeked out from beneath her skirts. “You’re my dearest friend.”

“And apparently that’s all I will ever amount to.”

She looked at him, alarmed by the bitterness coating his comment. How would she convince him that this was his worst idea ever without giving away her feelings or the secrets only she knew?

“Have—have I ever given you a reason to think we were otherwise?”

He stepped toward her, forcing her back against the balcony wall till they were hidden in the darkened cove awash in thick vines of ivy. The leafy greens tickled the sides of her neck and upper arms.

“Have you forgotten last night so easily?” he countered.

His breath fanned over her cheek; hers hitched in her lungs when the moon reflected off the determined glare in his eyes.

“We both know last night should never have happened. Neither of us were thinking clearly,” she couldn’t stop from babbling. “The champagne didn’t help matters any.”

“Is that what you need to tell yourself to pretend you didn’t feel the pull between us?” His hand was as light and fleeting as a feather brushing over her cheek. “That you didn’t enjoy it every bit as much as I did?”

She pushed lightly against his chest, hoping he’d step back and give her space to breathe, to think of another reason this couldn’t be. He didn’t.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered, her voice breaking at the end of the question. She felt as though she’d cry, but she fought against the tears.

“I will never put last night behind us, Jez. I know you felt something for me, fleeting as it was in our stolen moment. You’ll only hurt us both if you keep lying to yourself.”

Was there truth in his words? She thought there might be, and that scared her a great deal. She needed to escape Hayden. She couldn’t think straight with him hovering over her, demanding answers she didn’t have.

She ducked her whole body and slipped to the side … putting very necessary distance between them. He didn’t let her escape far, so she stood for his perusal. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel heat radiating off him as though she were standing too close to burning coals in a brazier. Would she burn herself if she brushed up against him? That was a thought better left alone. But still … she had to wonder. She took a step toward him without really meaning to.

“What do you want from me, Hayden?”

“I just want you.”

She stared back at him, speechless. What if their kiss had been about more and the best thing she could do for her future was explore what was between and beyond their friendship?

What if, what if, what if.

Her knuckles brushed against his chest. How had she ended up in touching distance of him again?

As she went up on the tips of her toes, her breasts brushed against him ever so slightly and her mouth closed in on his.

“There you are.” Tristan’s voice boomed into the silence.

She fell to her feet, her breath frozen in her lungs.

What had she been about to commit to?

“Tristan,” she acknowledged as she dropped her hand and stepped away from Hayden. How much had Tristan seen?

When she turned to look at Tristan, he stood at the doors off the ballroom, his gaze betraying nothing.

“I found you a dancing partner, so come inside before Longsmere is cornered by another young lady looking for a husband. There seems to be a great deal of them on the marriage market this evening—hadn’t realized that when we arrived.”

Now he sounded worried for himself. Jessica would have laughed at the observation, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she and Hayden had nearly done. She looked at Hayden once more before taking Tristan’s arm.

Hayden’s expression was dark and unreadable; his jaw clenched tight against whatever he’d been about to say.

Distance for the evening would put him in a better mood. And give them both some time to think of the folly she’d just about committed. Or so she hoped. The problem was, she didn’t think he’d see their actions as a mistake any more than she did.

Chapter 12

After what started as an unpromising night for the Duke of A—— his eyes thankfully landed on better company than whom he’d arrived with. He danced with a woman proven to be a veritable diamond in a sack full of coal this season. And the duke did not dance with her once, but twice. Will the duke finally take a bride? One would hope that at his age he’d at least consider settling into married life. So who will the lucky lady be?
Mayfair Chronicles,
July 1846 “I’ve taken all the dancing I can take tonight.” Hayden brushed his hands roughly through his hair. “The Duchess of Glenmoore had me dance with every wallflower and every debutante present. I say we head back to my house and open a bottle of champagne to unwind from a very full evening.”

“Sounds delightful.” Jez’s cheeks were flushed. She, too, had been dancing all evening.

Once Longsmere had danced with her, other gentlemen had followed suit. Every one of them was undeserving of her attention.

All Hayden could be thankful for was that Jessica hadn’t been interested in any of the gentlemen she’d taken a turn around the room with. And despite the fact that he wished she wouldn’t dance with anyone but him, she seemed to have forgotten their earlier disagreement on the verandah. Damn Tristan for interrupting them.

For the most part, Hayden had spent the night staring after Jessica. It didn’t matter whether he was on the outskirts of the ballroom, dancing with his many partners, or conversing with a few of the guests. He’d watched her, and he didn’t give a damn that he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. The best thing to come out of tonight was that Jessica was smiling and laughing and had enjoyed the evening to the fullest.

“I have an early-morning outing, but a glass or two can be accomplished before I head home,” Tristan responded when Jessica’s thoughts had wandered from the topic at hand.

“Too bad Leo is preoccupied,” Jessica said. “We could have played a hand of cards. Though I suppose we could make a trip to our favorite gaming hell before we head to your house, Hayden.”

“Out of the question.” Tristan caught Jez’s arm before she tripped up the stairs of the carriage.

Perhaps champagne was a bad idea. But Hayden wasn’t ready to say good night to Jessica when he had every intention of finishing their earlier conversation once Tristan called it an evening.

Hayden stepped in when his two friends could do no more than clasp each other and laugh at their clumsiness. Grabbing Jez around the waist, Hayden hauled her up into the carriage and followed in behind. She giggled. She never giggled.

“What am I going to do with you two?” he asked in exasperation.

Tristan sat across from him and Jez. “A midnight snack will be in order if we’re to make it through another bottle of champagne.”

“We may want to call it a night.”

Jez pouted and pinched his cheek like one might do chiding a child. “Poor Hayden, always trying to do the right thing. What happened to living dangerously?”

“A late meal it is, then,” Hayden said as he clasped Jessica’s hand before recalling his friend sat across from them. He released her with great reluctance. While he was more than ready for any show of affection, he knew Jessica was not.

“And I’m perfectly well; I just can’t recall the last time I had so much fun.”

“It’s about damn time, too,” Tristan said. “We should get out more often.”

“I’ll choose better dancing partners next time. Poor Mr. Hemsworth gaped at me like a fish with a hook caught in its mouth. I don’t think he managed one coherent sentence.”

“I daresay, Longsmere warmed up to you,” Tristan said.

“None of the men you danced with were worth your time.” Hayden crossed his arms over his chest. He did not want to hear what Jez thought of every man on her arm or how those men might measure up as husband material.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you glared at all the gentlemen on my arm,” Jez shot back.

“Poor old chap,” Tristan said. “You’re just disappointed to have been appointed most eligible bachelor tonight. Had you not had to dance with every debutante and wallflower, you might be in a better mood.”

“You needn’t remind me.”

Jez and Tristan laughed. Hayden supposed it was a damn sight funnier to them than it was to him.

By the time they reached Hayden’s house Tristan was yawning. Jez seemed wide-awake and ready to continue their party into the wee hours of the morning. Hayden was happy to oblige.

“I’m parched from all the dancing. And worse, I don’t think I can remember all the gentlemen’s names, either.”

“All that matters is that they know you are back on the market for marriage,” Tristan said.

Jez leaned back on the sofa, toed her slippers off, and put her feet up.

And all Hayden could think was that if one of those men dared to leave a calling card at her house tomorrow he’d call the blighter out and beat him to a bloody pulp for any attempt to court her. Jez was his. Perhaps Hayden had always been waiting for her husband to kick the bucket so he could make his intentions clear. No other man would come between them now.

True to his word, Tristan left after only one glass of champagne. Hayden offered Jez a game of cribbage to keep her for a while longer, which she accepted.

“About earlier…”

His gaze snapped up to hers, surprised that she would bring it up first.

“I know I was out of line.” Though he didn’t think he’d stop himself from doing it again.

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“What do you think?”

“I know when you’re lying, Hayden.” She moved her peg on the board when she hit thirty-one.

He folded his cards together and set them facedown on the table; she was winning the game and he hadn’t a chance in hell of catching up to the points she’d racked against him. “My offer still stands, Jessica.”

“Because of a kiss, you would risk our friendship?”

“It wasn’t
just
a kiss.” He shook his head. “You are trying to mitigate a risk that doesn’t exist.”

“We were both caught up in the moment.” She looked back down to her cards, avoiding his gaze.

“Isn’t that exactly the point?”

She sighed and set her cards down, too. “And what happens to our friendship when we realize that we’ve made a mistake in wanting more?”

“How can you predict the outcome?” he countered.

If she wanted to have this conversation, he’d give her every reason he could think to give them a modicum of a chance.

“Why did you come back here?” he asked. “Considering what happened earlier?”

“Because if we didn’t talk now, you would have barged into my home demanding answers tomorrow morning. And I hate mornings.”

He couldn’t argue with her on that because that was exactly what he would have done.

“So you’re simply humoring me?”

“Not precisely.”

He looked at her for a long moment. They needed to come to an agreement on how to carry his plan forward, because, by God, he would not let her turn him off this idea.

“I can’t stand by and watch as you court and marry another man. In fact, I refuse to do any such thing.”

She reached for one of his hands across the table and squeezed it. “You are my best friend. You’ve stuck by my side when half the
ton
was divided on whether or not they should welcome me with open arms or shun me for something they deemed inappropriate. If we were to marry, everything that we have built over the last eight years could very well crumble around us.”

“You only assume our relationship will change because you lived through a horrendous marriage.” He clasped both her hands in his, needing to touch her, never wanting to let go of her. “Trust me when I say it won’t be like that for us.”

“Men change when they can no longer cat about Town, bedding whom they wish whenever they wish. You’ll eventually find a young wife that can give you everything you need. But if you ask me to play the role of wife…” She shook her head and slid her hands from his. “I don’t want to be responsible for changing the man you are. I would never forgive myself.”

It was unbelievable that she was arguing this point with him. “Do you even recall my last mistress?”

“The redheaded one?” Should it surprise him that she did remember? “I saw her onstage recently, but for the life of me, I cannot recall her name.”

Hayden grasped both of Jez’s arms and lifted her from her chair till they were face-to-face over the table. “Are you so blind, Jez?”

She blinked at him, confused.

His
mistress
had filled a void more than a year ago. It had been an on-again, off-again relationship for years, but it didn’t take long for that particular woman to realize she was filling the role for the woman he could not have. When they’d split off once and for all, he’d not found anyone else. He hadn’t wanted anyone else. None of them were Jez. No one could even come close to comparing.