Disgrace and Desire(38)

Eloise turned away. She felt slightly sick. Sir Ronald made no attempt to detain her and she hurried out of the ballroom. She was aware of the black domino shadowing her but she ignored him. She did not want to talk to anyone, least of all Jack. She retrieved her cloak and waited impatiently for her carriage to arrive at the door. The black domino had disappeared and her drooping spirits sank even lower. Did he think that now she was leaving she no longer needed his protection? Perhaps he considered his duty done, and had returned to the ballroom to while away the rest of the night with some pretty woman who made no demands upon him.

‘Your carriage, m’lady.’

The servant’s sonorous tones recalled her wandering thoughts and she went out into the busy street. Her own footman held open the carriage door and she climbed in, closing her eyes with relief as she fell back against the thickly padded seat.

‘Thank heaven you are out of there.’

Eloise screamed and opened her eyes. Jack Clifton was sitting in the far corner of the carriage, his black domino merging with the shadows to make him all but invisible.

‘I beg your pardon. I did not mean to startle you.’

‘How did you get in here?’ she demanded.

‘I jumped in,’ he said. ‘From the street side. I want to know what Deforge said to you.’

‘Sir Ronald knew you were present,’ she replied cautiously. ‘His people have been following you.’

‘I thought as much.’

‘You knew?’

She saw a brief flash of white as he grinned.

‘That big oaf dressed as Blackbeard has been tailing me for days. His bulk makes him far too easy to spot.’

‘But tonight there were others, I saw them.’

‘The rustics? I saw them too—I had to throw them off my track before I climbed into your carriage.’ He untied the strings of his domino and shrugged it off. ‘They need not worry you, my dear.’

‘But they might have killed you!’

‘Not they! Trust me, they were never a threat to me. Only once have I been taken unawares, and that was by a beautiful woman on Hampstead Heath.’

There was a laugh in his voice but it awoke no response in her. He was far too reckless. If he would not protect himself then she must do so, even if it meant she would never see him again.

‘But enough of that,’ he said. ‘Tell me about Deforge. I didn’t like the way he kept leering at you.’

‘He is growing impatient,’ she responded quietly.

‘And?’

Eloise hesitated. Sir Ronald’s threats echoed uncomfortably in her head. At last she said, ‘He wants my decision soon.’

‘Hmm. Word is that he is rolled up and his creditors are pressing for payment. I thought he might have demanded you marry him at once.’

She forced herself to keep her eyes upon Jack. It was very dark in the carriage, but she would take no chances that he would catch her out in the lie.

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Not ever!’ he growled. ‘We will find some way out of this coil that does not involve you giving yourself to that fiend, or marrying Mortimer.’

She blinked.

‘M-marrying Alex? How could you ever think I would do that?’

‘You said so, at Parham House.’

Eloise was silent. She had only the haziest recollection of what had happened after Jack had rescued her from Lord Berrow. She was afraid she had given herself away and admitted her true feelings: now it appeared that Jack had misunderstood her. He continued harshly, ‘If you must marry anyone for expediency, then you will marry me!’

‘M-marry you?’ she gasped, surprised. ‘What, what reason can you have for w-wanting to marry me?’

‘Reason!’ He gave a crack of laughter. ‘If you want reasons—’ He raised his hand and counted them off on his fingers. ‘Well, for one thing it would foil Deforge, and for another Tony was a good comrade: I owe him my life.’

‘That is very chivalrous, sir, but—’

He crossed the carriage to sit beside her. ‘Not chivalrous at all, my dear. I have my own plans for you.’

She did not pretend to misunderstand. She swallowed, trying to clear the sudden constriction in her throat. His arm was around her and she allowed herself to lean against him.

‘I thought you disapproved of me,’ she murmured

He took her hand in his.

‘I disapprove of the fact that you will not trust me with your secrets.’

‘They are not my secrets to share.’

‘Then I will not force them from you, but you must know that I am yours to command, now and always.’ He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up. ‘I want you for my wife, Elle. My land isn’t in such good heart as Mortimer’s but with careful management and a little investment I know we can turn it around.’

We? The word made her heart give a little lurch. If only that were possible.

‘I could want nothing better,’ she whispered, sighing.

Jack kissed her and she clung to him, returning his kiss with such a passion that when he broke away they were both breathing heavily.

‘I have only the one estate, now, plus a few acres at Brighton where I plan to build houses. Little enough to bring you, I know—’

‘Do you think I care how wealthy you are?’ Her fingers crept up to touch his cheek. ‘Let us not talk of it now.’

He reached up and trapped her hand with his own.

‘No,’ he said thickly, ‘Let’s not talk.’

He slid his mouth over hers again and instantly she responded, her lips parting as his kiss deepened and she felt herself surrendering. She drove her hands through his thick hair, strong as silk between her gloved fingers. He unfastened her cloak and pushed it away, running his hands over her shoulders, his thumbs caressing her collar bones. Her skin was on fire beneath his touch. Her body remembered the delights of his lovemaking and she was overcome with an urgent need to repeat the experience. He planted a trail of feather-light kisses over her neck and she said, her voice not quite steady, ‘When we reach Dover Street, will…will you come in and take a glass of Madeira with me, Major Clifton?’

He lifted his head to look at her. Even in the darkness she could see the gleam of desire in his eyes. He replied solemnly, ‘I would be delighted, my lady.’

She stifled the voice in her head that urged caution. Tomorrow the announcement would be in all the newspapers, everyone would know that she was going to marry Deforge, but tonight—she closed her eyes. Tonight she would enjoy one last night with Jack before he was lost to her for ever.





Chapter Fifteen


Sitting in the darkened carriage with Eloise in his arms, a quiet, joyous elation swept over Jack. She was his, every instinct told him so. Whatever hold Deforge might have on her they would fight it together. When the carriage pulled up in Dover Street he jumped down and handed her out of the carriage. It was as much as he could do not to sweep her up as if she was a new bride and carry her into the house, but instead he must walk quietly beside her, exchanging idle chit-chat while they handed their cloaks to the butler and she requested refreshments to be fetched. Jack prowled around the drawing room while they waited for the butler to return, knowing that if he came within arms’ reach of Eloise he would have to kiss her. He was almost painfully aroused, his body ached to hold her but he must go slowly, he must remember that she had little experience of love, despite her reputation. He watched her as she stood before the fire, pulling off her gloves. There was a solemn, almost melancholy cast to her countenance.

‘If you want me to leave—’

She glanced up and gave him a fleeting smile.

‘No, truly, I want you here.’ She turned away as Noyes came in and placed a heavy silver tray upon a table.

‘Thank you, you may go now. And, Noyes…’

‘Yes, m’lady?’

‘You may go to bed. Major Clifton will see himself out.’

‘But the bolts, my lady—’

She waved him away impatiently.

‘I am quite capable of dealing with those. Now go to bed, if you please. And on your way tell Alice I shall not need her again tonight.’

There was no mistaking the butler’s look of mingled shock and surprise. Eloise caught Jack’s eye and blushed. She poured two glasses of wine and carried them across the room. Jack watched her, noting the way the wide skirts of her costume swayed with the movement of her hips as she walked. A smile tugged at his mouth.

‘That gown suits you, but I do not like your hair to be so artificially contained.’

She stopped before him, a full wine glass in each hand but he made no move to take one from her. Instead he reached out and pulled off the headdress and tossed it aside.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Making you a little more like a king’s mistress.’

Deftly he removed the pins and the gold curls cascaded over his hands. He spread his fingers and eased them into her hair, coaxing it to fall like a golden curtain around her shoulders. He nodded approvingly.

‘Much better,’ he said.

A shy smile lit her eyes.

‘I do not believe Nell Gwyn ever appeared with her hair thus.’

‘Not in public, perhaps, but in private. For her lover.’

She blushed profusely. Jack took the glasses from her and put them down on a side table. Time for wine later.