The older woman snorted. “Might as well ask for the moon.”
“Not at all,” Jareth assured them. “Let me demonstrate. Miss Watkin, if you would play the master, I will attempt to demur.”
Eloise blinked. “I am to be the man?” she asked, knowing she sounded as surprised as she felt.
He grinned as if he too appreciated the irony. “Indeed. And I shall be the maid. Come after me, if you will, with licentious intent.”
She could not help herself and burst out laughing. But Jareth merely cocked his platinum head and looked at her from under his golden brows. She shook her head and swallowed the last giggle.
“Very well,” she agreed. She thought for a moment, then straightened her shoulders and deepened her voice. “See here, Miss Darby, I desire you to serve my needs.”
“Knew a bloke once what talked just like that too,” the redhead whispered loudly to the woman next to her.
Jareth rolled his eyes. “No, no, Miss Watkin. I said come
after
me. Attempt to inflict yourself upon me.”
She felt the color rushing to her face. “Mr. Darby,” she began heatedly but Mrs. Turner interceded.
“Perhaps I might try this one, Mr. Darby,” she said, rising to step in front of Eloise. Left with no other choice, Eloise returned to her seat. Part of her was relieved; another part was curious as to what the house chaperone meant to do. To her surprise, Mrs. Turner threw her arms around Jareth, pinning the sleeves of his navy jacket to his chest and nearly knocking him off his booted feet.
“I have you now, my pretty,” she claimed in a throaty whisper as she pressed him backward. “Give us a kiss.”
Eloise had to bite her lips together to keep from laughing at the startled look on Jareth’s handsome face. But his surprised was short lived. Falling into character, he made his face the epitome of outraged femininity. His voice came out a high falsetto. “I am a proper lady, Mr. Hothands. Release me at once.”
“Like that’d work,” the brunette grumbled.
Eloise too had her doubts. Mrs. Turner stood her ground, brown eyes hard.
“I pay your wages,” the chaperone-turned-libertine snarled. “You do as I say.”
“Not in this, I don’t.” Jareth turned his head to look at his audience and dropped his voice to its normal pitch. “And then you scream, ladies, and if he still doesn’t release you, you bring your knee up thus.”
Mrs. Turner winced even though he did not connect with her. Eloise could imagine that if a lady did connect with a gentleman in that area of his anatomy with sufficient force, she might indeed cause him a great deal of harm. A shame she hadn’t known the trick five years ago, but, of course, she doubted she’d have wanted to use it on Jareth then.
“That won’t help his dignity,” someone pointed out.
“Indeed, it will not,” Jareth agreed, moving out of Mrs. Turner’s grip and straightening his white cravat. “However, what you do next will help him maintain his consequence. If you would collapse, Mrs. Turner?”
She obligingly crumpled to the floor, dark skirts pooling about her body. She added a convincing writhe for good measure. Several of the ladies rose to get a better view of her.
“Help, help!” Jareth called out in his falsetto. “The master is ill!” He lowered the pitch. “Then, when the other staff come to investigate, explain that you found the poor fellow twitching and moaning. With any luck, they’ll call a physician and have the creature bled.”
“Now that’s nasty,” the older woman said in obvious admiration.
Eloise could not be satisfied. “A charming example, Mr. Darby, but your plan will only work if the gentleman does not decide to get vindictive after he has recovered. What if he paints you as the villain? What if he claims you attempted to seduce him?”
He regarded her so intently that she could feel herself blushing. “In general, Miss Watkin, I believe most gentlemen will back away rather than be wounded again.”
Now it was her turn to stare. Back away? That was exactly what he had done. She had always wondered why he had refused to return for her. When Cleo had forced him off with the pitchfork, was it his pride that had kept him away? She had not thought him such a peacock as that.
The others were no less skeptical of his claims.
“I’ve met too many blokes what wanted more than they could have,” the redhead maintained. “What you did might work with some, Mr. Darby, but I think Miss Eloise has the right of it. Some fellows can be right ugly when they don’t get what they want.”
“Those fellows,” Jareth told her, “are not motivated by lust. If you are faced with such a vindictive master, I advise you to quit the position as quickly as possible, even if you have to forego references.”
“What if you’re cornered? What if he forces you?”
Eloise wasn’t sure who had asked the question, but when she looked down the table she saw only faces gone white. Several avoided her gaze. The idea that any of the women she had come to care for would be violated in such a manner was too hideous to contemplate. Yet they had obviously considered the possibility. The answer gravely concerned them all, and she did not know what to tell them.
Jareth had no such trouble. “Send me word,” he said quietly, “and I promise he’ll never trouble you again.”
One by one, they nodded, and the color returned to their faces. Eloise turned away. His words were heroic, but she could not believe him. Yet if she denounced him, she would only frighten them again. Behind her, she heard Mrs. Turner return to her feet.
“Easy to say, Mr. Darby,” the house chaperone cautioned, “but I wager you won’t remember half these women when you leave here.”
“You may be right,” Jareth replied. “They may also forget all about my offer. So, let us discuss what else we can do to stop that problem before it starts. As I said, a gentleman who forces a lady generally isn’t after her because of her beauty or seductiveness, he’s trying to prove to himself that he’s truly a man. Bullying is one way of proving that you are superior when you suspect you are quite inferior indeed.”
Eloise knew she was staring at him again. She had not thought him capable of thinking through such sentiments.
Of course
, she reflected,
he could be referring to Lord Hendricks
.
“What you must do,” he continued, “is make sure you do not allow yourself to fall into the clutches of such a bully. Generally, his actions will prove his motivation. However, you can take certain steps to ensure you do not give any gentleman the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Miss Watkin, what would you do if I asked you out walking one night?”
Eloise smiled sweetly. “I would tell you to go to blazes, Mr. Darby.”
As several of the women chuckled, he grinned at her. “Precisely!” He turned to the ladies again. “That is the first rule to prevent dire circumstances. Go nowhere after dark with a man you do not trust.”
“Or into an enclosed space like a hayloft?” Eloise suggested with false innocence.
His grin turned wry. “Right again. Furthermore, do not offer a kiss if you suspect more is wanted.”
That hit closer to home than she liked. Had he laughed at her when she had given in so easily? Perhaps she should show him what she had learned from his earlier teaching.
“Do not believe pretty words until you have seen them put into practice,” she countered.
“Can’t we do nothing fun?” the brunette complained.
“Certainly,” Jareth advised. “But I quite agree with Miss Watkin. Find a gentleman who proves himself trustworthy by his actions. Then believe it is your God-given right to be treated with respect.” He gazed at Eloise, and she felt herself coloring again at the warmth she saw in the blue expanse of his eyes. “With respect and with tenderness. Accept nothing less, ladies, and return nothing more. All women deserve this. And so do the men in their lives.”
Dear God, but she was lost. Her mind argued that he could not mean those words, could not possibly understand what he described. To have respect and tenderness—she could imagine nothing finer.
Except perhaps, to be loved by Jareth.
Her heart seemed to swell and her breath come quickly at the idea. He seemed to sense the change in her, for the blue of his eyes deepened, and his hand came to rest on her shoulder in a brief caress. She laid her hand over his.
Applause made him freeze. He pulled away from her as if burned and turned to bow to his audience, who enthusiastically acknowledged him.
Eloise shrank back in her seat. She’d nearly forgotten herself again! Why did she keep tormenting herself with ideas of love and Jareth? The two would never meet, could never be combined. Even if he was reformed, even if he meant those beautiful words, even if he was still attracted to her, it did not follow that he would want to marry her. She would have him no other way.
She lifted her head to find that Mrs. Turner was regarding her thoughtfully from beside a bowing Jareth.
“Remember your own advice, Miss Eloise,” she murmured, returning to her seat but keeping her gaze on him. “No dark, enclosed spaces with that one until he proves himself.”
“I shall try,” Eloise replied with a sigh. “But I have a feeling it will be all too difficult.”
Chapter Fourteen
As it turned out, it was extremely difficult to put her advice into practice. Jareth remained at Comfort House to answer questions and act out several more scenes. Eloise decided it was the better part of valor to stay in the background, allowing Mrs. Turner to partner him. His advice generally seemed logical; the few times it strayed into the questionable, the house chaperone chimed in to redirect him.
The sun was setting when they left Comfort House for Eloise’s carriage. With her father’s coachman on the box and a footman at the boot, she had not felt concerned on the drive over. Given the discussion of the afternoon, however, she doubted that two serving men were enough to protect her from herself. Still, after bringing Jareth here she could hardly insist that he walk home. She squared her shoulders in resolution and led him to the coach.
He was the epitome of a proper gentleman as they took seats opposite each other on the brown velvet upholstery and the coachman called to his horses to start. Indeed, Jareth sat so quietly, gaze on the gathering dusk beyond the glass windows, that she began to grow concerned.
“Is something the matter, Mr. Darby?” she asked at last.
He met her gaze with a frown. “In truth, I cannot say. Today’s efforts have made me pensive, as I suspect you desired.”
She cocked her head. “Having second thoughts about your reformation?”
“Indeed, no. Rather the opposite. I find myself wondering whether I have a great deal more for which to atone than I had imagined.”
She hid a smile of satisfaction. Had she really made him think about his past actions? If so, her tests were succeeding. Tightening her fingers together in the lap of her calico gown, she cautioned herself not to give in to optimism just yet. As Mrs. Turner had warned, she must judge his motives by his actions.
He did not seem to expect her to disagree with him. Instead, she found him watching her closely again.
“Tell me honestly, Eloise,” he said suddenly, “when we met that last time in the hayloft, did I force myself upon you?”
She could not suppress a shudder at the idea. He closed his eyes as if she had struck him.
“Not forced,” she assured him hurriedly. “It was not rape, if that’s what you ask.”
He opened his eyes. “Thank God for that. Given today’s discussion, I had begun to wonder. I truly thought you were out for a bit of fun, just as I was.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I ever considered our activities ‘fun.’ Exciting, romantic, a bit terrifying at moments, but never ‘fun.’”
“The exciting and romantic part I can certainly understand. Why do you add terrifying?”
She felt her eyes widen. “Did you never stop to consider what would happen if we were caught?”
He quirked a smile. “I never stopped to consider we might be caught.”
She shook her head again, this time at his unshakable belief in himself. “But when we were caught, did that not concern you, even a little? You walked away as if there were no need to look back.”
She could hear the kindness in his voice as he attempted to tease her away from a painful subject. “I didn’t walk, if I recall. I limped.”
She wished again that she had his gift for making light of things. “I suspect Cleo, Lady Hastings, was as embarrassed about the situation as you were,” she told him. “She came after you because she thought it was force, you see.”
He shook his head. “What a mess all around. I suppose we should be pleased that we three were the only ones the wiser.”
“Four,” she admitted. “Cleo was so certain I had been hurt that she unburdened herself to Miss Martingale.”
His smile faded. “The headmistress? How can that be? Had she known, she would have gone straight to the earl. I have little doubt my older brother Adam would have insisted that I do right by you and offer marriage. At the very least, Miss Martingale would have alerted your father. Certainly he would have been out for my blood.”
She had long ago thought out all those possibilities. “Oh, never fear. Neither of our families knew of our contretemps then.”
He breathed a sigh of what had to be relief. “I had no idea the old girl was willing to listen to you that way.”
Eloise sighed as well, but she knew it did not come from relief. “She wasn’t. Miss Martingale owes her allegiance to one thing: the name of Darby. When I threatened that, she made sure I was silent.”
“What do you mean?” he asked with a frown.
She almost told him that it was none of his affair, but she knew that for a lie. It was more than time that Jareth heard the whole. She took a deep breath and plunged in. “After Cleo chased you off ...”
“After I wisely withdrew,” he amended.
“We argue over semantics, but very well. After you wisely withdrew, I was in no condition to reason with Cleo.”
“Why was that?” he interrupted. “Did I hurt you after all?”
She knew he meant physically. “No, but it was a little unnerving being left in dishabille in the stables. Then after I returned to the school, I spent a great deal of time pondering your hasty exit.” If he could use words to cushion his conscience, so could she. She did not need to tell him the hours she had cried, the number of times she had slipped away the following day to check the tree where they had met each other so many times.