To Love a Lord (22 page)

Jane sucked in a shuddery breath. “Why can you not be the arrogant, domineering lout I’d first believed you to be?”

His lips twitched and some of the tension left his frame. Gabriel cupped her cheek, bracing for her to pull away. She angled her head and leaned into his touch. “Would you have me believe Montclair’s charges for no other reason than the station of his birth?”

The muscles of her throat moved with the force of her swallow and she gave another nod. “Y-yes. Y-yes, that is just what I’d expect you to do.”

Was that what every other gentleman had done before him? Never had he resented his station in life more than he did in this moment. Those snide, hypocritical members of the
ton
who’d look down upon the Jane Munroe’s of the world, while lauding the late Marquess of Waverly, a man who beat his children, for no other reason than his status at birth.

Jane pressed her fingers against her temple and rubbed. “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I—”

“Not here,” she cut in on a soft cry. “With your Italian words and your—” A delicate, pink blush stained her cheeks.

“And my what?” he prodded. He’d have everything between them. The lies hinted at by Montclair.
All
of it.

“Your kiss,” she said on a harsh whisper.

Gabriel stilled. He opened and closed his mouth several times.

“And, not that you’ve kissed me of late.” Even as he’d dreamed of it, every day since. “Nor should I think of you as I do. I should forget your kiss and your touch.” And it would destroy part of him if those embraces meant nothing to her. Not when she’d been the first—“But…” Her spectacles fell from her grip and landed on the carpeted floor with a soft thump. She covered her face with her hands. “What are you doing to me? Why can’t you be the condescending, judgmental man you first showed yourself to be instead of this seductive, gentle person I do not know what to do with?”

Not once in the course of his thirty-two years had he been accused of being a rogue. He’d taken great pains to distance himself from the image crafted by his father and, in many ways, adopted by his brother. With gentleness, he encircled her wrists in his hands and lowered her arms to her side. “I was not seducing you.” Shame and embarrassment added a gruff quality to his tone. Guilt turned within his belly. “You likely see me no different than Montclair.” A man whose residence she’d shared, who should have respected her station within his father’s household, and had instead forced his attentions on her.

“You are nothing like Montclair,” she said tiredly. “If you were, it would be a good deal easier.”

Her words gave him pause. He should not press her for answers on that statement, but he could no sooner quell the question on his lips than he could shake free this link to his father’s blood. “What would be a good deal easier?”

Jane dropped her gaze to the floor. Why should he be shamed, when he’d been the one to take her lips under his? Why, when he still wanted her, now just a curtain away from a theatre full of potential witnesses to their scandalous actions?

He brushed the backs of his knuckles down her cheek and that gentle caress brought her lashes fluttering once more. “I am not a rogue, Jane,” Those grounded words brought her eyes open. “I am not a charming gentleman with easy words around ladies as my brother.” He’d prided himself on that for the better part of his life. Now he wished he possessed even a trace of Alex’s capabilities for then he’d have the words to muddle through this exchange. He brushed his knuckles along her jaw. “I would never force my attentions upon you or deliberately set to seduce you with words or actions.”
I would want you because you desire me as I desire you.
“When I shared Rossini’s words, it was so you might know everything about the opera you’d looked forward to.”

Jane leaned up on tiptoe and shrunk the distance between his tall, and her much shorter, frame and kissed him.

Gabriel stiffened and then with an agonized groan, he devoured her mouth with his. There was nothing gentle or sweet about the exchange. It was an explosive meeting of two people who both wanted one another and who’d fought that longing for too long. “I want you,” he whispered as he dragged his lips down her neck.

As he gently sucked at the sensitive skin, a moan slipped past her lips. “I w-want you, too.”

Her words had a maddening effect and a low moan rumbled from deep within his chest. He drew her close to him. Gabriel dropped his attention to the exposed flesh of her décolletage and of their own volition, her hands came up and she anchored him close.

Ah, God damn his soul. He was his father’s son and there was no escaping that crime. Gabriel rucked the skirts of her gown up higher, higher, ever higher and exposed her limbs. Then with desperate movements he ran his hands over her hips then lower. He stroked the expanse of her thigh and drew it about him, testing her against his form. His aching shaft pressed against the front of his breeches and another groan rumbled up from his chest and stuck in his throat.

The orchestra’s distant music, muffled by the pounding of his heart, faded altogether. “We should stop.”
Please do not agree
.

“We should.” She dropped her head back, allowing him access to her neck once again. He groaned and released her skirts, shifting his search of her body higher.

She whimpered as he returned his attention to her neck. Jane pressed herself against him and drew his head forward. He stumbled and pulled his mouth away, attempting to right her. To no avail. She tipped and crashed backward onto the thin-carpeted hall. Gabriel caught himself on his elbows, above her. The red velvet curtain fluttered and danced damningly about them.

He registered the three pairs of feet in front of his gaze. Two pairs of slippers and a gleaming set of Hessians to be precise. Gabriel swallowed hard and forced his stare upward.

Chloe and Imogen stood with their mouths rounded in like circles while Alex’s green-eyed stare gleamed with the faintest trace of amusement.

“Gabriel?” Alex’s slightly bored drawl jerked him back to the moment. He held a hand out to assist him to his feet.

Bloody hell. This night could not possibly get any worse. Then Lady Jersey with Lady Castlereigh arm-in-arm stepped into the corridor. Their gazes collided with Jane and Gabriel’s prone forms, and as one their eyes formed round moons. He bit back a curse.

He’d been incorrect. The night had just worsened.

*

Positioned between Lady Imogen and Chloe, Jane hurried through the theatre. Her skin pricked from the burn of Gabriel’s gaze on her back and the stare of the two Society matrons who’d chosen the most inopportune time to slip from the performance and enter the corridor and see—

She closed her eyes a moment. The matrons saw her twined with Gabriel’s form like a vine of ivy around a powerful tree. Jane swallowed a humiliated groan and quickened her stride. Had there been any doubt before this moment, there was none now—she was her mother’s daughter. A shameful, wanton harlot who’d kissed a man and been discovered before his family and two ladies of the
ton
. She pressed a hand to her mouth and buried a moan.

Chloe shot her a sideways look. Concern filled the young woman’s overly kind eyes. “I say, it was a splendid performance, don’t you think, Jane?”

Tears pricked behind her lids. Why would this woman be so kind? Why, when she’d shamed her and Gabriel’s entire family as she had? Chloe slid her arm into Jane’s and patted her hand. “Alex will have secured the carriage by now,” she said with swift assurance.

They made their way down the stairs, through the quiet hall, and outside to where, as Chloe predicted, Lord Alex stood beside the waiting carriages. A surge of relief slammed into her; a desire to hide within the black lacquer walls and hope that those two women failed to glean her identity and—

She thrust aside the futile wish. Society matrons made it their affair to know the affairs of others. Even now, the scandalous exchange between Jane and Gabriel was likely circulating through the theatre fodder for the gossips and no black lacquer carriage would shield her from that.

Jane accepted the assistance of the coachman and allowed him to hand her inside. Chloe followed, and for one moment she believed Gabriel should take a carriage with his brother and for one longer moment, wanted him to and spare her the humiliating agony of sitting beside him and Chloe.

Alas, the fates were uncooperative this evening. Gabriel climbed inside and the wide space of the carriage grew smaller under the power of his frame.

A moment later, the servant closed the carriage door and the conveyance rocked forward. The rumble of the carriage wheels along the cobblestones filled the quiet, punctuated by the beat of her heart in her ears. She gripped the edge of the seat and replayed each horrid moment of this evening.—Montclair’s presence. Her wanton kiss. The discovery.

And worse, the lie between them still remained. She stole a sideways glance at Gabriel. He sat, white lines drawn about his tightly held mouth. A faint muscle jumped at the corner. What was he thinking?

“Did you enjoy the performance, Gabriel?” Chloe’s hopelessly bad question broke into the stiltedness.

Jane peered at the young lady who wore a wide smile on her heart-shaped face.

The muscle twitched once more. “Chloe,” he bit out.

The young lady pointed her eyes to the carriage ceiling. “Gabriel has always enjoyed the opera.”

Jane stared at Chloe. Had the young lady gone mad? Did she not comprehend the implications of this evening’s debacle? For all of them.

“I thought it was a lovely performance.” Apparently,
not
by the cheerful pronouncement. “I—”

“That will be all, Chloe,” Gabriel snapped with such rigidity to his tone that Chloe went instantly and uncharacteristically quiet.

The carriage rattled along the remainder of the infernal trip, in absolute silence for which Jane was grateful. It gave her an opportunity to try and sort her tumultuous thoughts and put to rights some of her confounded emotions.

She could not stay here. That much was clear now. Her presence only posed a risk to Chloe’s reputation and ability to make a match. She’d given her the truth, though in actuality it was Gabriel who’d been deserving of the details that had brought her into his household. Instead, she’d infringed upon his family’s kindness and left disaster in her wake, as she was wont to do.

She dimly registered the conveyance rocking to a halt before the stucco façade of Gabriel’s townhouse. He didn’t wait for the carriage to come to a complete stop before he shoved the door open and leapt to the ground. He reached back and handed his sister down. Chloe frowned up at him and opened her mouth as though she wished to say something, but with the glower he trained on her, wisely remained silent and sprinted ahead. Gabriel turned back to the carriage and held his hand out.

Jane hesitantly eyed it, and then avoiding his gaze, allowed him to hand her down. She scurried ahead.

“Mrs. Munroe?” he said quietly, momentarily halting her retreat.

She froze.

“Await me in my office.”

This was to be her sacking. They all began with a call to the nobleman’s office. And this time, like the others before it, there would be no reference. Jane gave a jerky nod and then raced ahead. What household would retain her for their daughters’ care—she a woman, discovered with her employer atop her, with her skirts rucked about her lower legs, her lips swollen from a kiss? A sob escaped her lips as she sailed through the entrance, avoiding Joseph’s gaze and made her way through the house to Gabriel’s office. She turned the corner and collided with Chloe.

The young woman caught her about the shoulders and steadied her. “Forgive me,” she insisted. “I do not have much time.” She glanced about. “I suspect Gabriel will arrive any moment to speak with you.”

To sack her.

She claimed Jane’s hands and gave them a gentle squeeze and met her gaze with a seriousness she’d not before seen in Chloe’s eyes. “He will do right by you.” What did that mean to a woman such as her, a whore’s daughter? Then Chloe clarified. “He will not see you ruined.”

“Ruined?” she parroted back. A sad smile turned her lips. She’d been ruined at birth. “I am long past that.”

A momentary flash of pity lit the young woman’s eyes.

Uncomfortable with that show of support and that useless, unwanted emotion, she gave a smile. “I believe I saw to that all on my own, Chloe.”

The soft thread of boot steps sounded down the corridor. Chloe gave her hands one more squeeze and then darted down the hall. Jane turned quickly and pressed the handle. She slipped inside the darkened room and took in the space she’d stood, pleading for her post not even a week ago, feeling remarkably as though she’d come full circle.

She’d required sanctuary for two months. She’d managed to steal but a week. And for that theft, she’d sacrificed the Edgerton family’s good name.

Jane stilled, sensing with an intuition that only came from her body’s inexplicable awareness of his presence. She turned in the middle of the room and folded her arms about her person.