Chapter 4 #2
James’ mouth was slightly open, but he gave little thought to how he must look.
So, that was the secret after all: a failed elopement, and one that had included a night in the same room.
Well, it was no wonder that she wanted to keep that quiet; if the ton discovered that she would be ruined forever, no man worth his sense would even consider her.
And yet look at her. There was pride in the way she held herself as she looked back at him.
She knew in herself that she had made the right decision, no matter the consequences, no matter the cost. James felt admiration for her flood through him, with a hint of anger at this Mr Bentley, whoever he was.
Who could look at Miss Rebecca Kirkland and see just the possibility of a child? Could he not value her for what she was?
It was difficult not to feel impressed by the woman that was seated before him, and a little amazed at her gall – and he found himself saying so.
“There cannot be many women in England who would have the power to say that to a man,” James said quietly.
“Much less one with whom she had spent a night. Nonetheless, I would never have imagined a woman like you having such strength in the face of Mr Bentley’s rather distasteful revelation. You are a unique woman.”
James did not miss the faint smile on her face, but it was gone in an instant.
“I have always known what I want,” she said quietly, her gaze dropping, “and unafraid to take it. I was bold, perhaps, in deciding to elope with Mr Bentley in the first place. I have no doubt that I was just as bold in deciding to leave him unwed.”
It was as though he was seeing her in a completely new light, and it was impossible for James to untangle the attraction that he felt for her with the unmistakeable way that she impressed him. Only one woman had ever done that before.
“And so now, you are on your way home,” he managed to say, almost calmly. “What do you intend to do when you arrive there?”
He was becoming more attuned to her now; even though she attempted to hide the flash of nervousness, James saw it.
“Mr Bentley and I came to an agreement before he departed from the coaching inn,” said Miss Kirkland stiffly. “He would not tell anyone of the…misadventure that we found ourselves on. I did, however, leave a letter for my parents, and I am not entirely sure whether…”
Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. Something about the way that her eyes dropped to the hands clasped in her lap, the slump of her shoulders, the crinkling frown of her brows, stirred something in James. It wasn’t desire. It was something deeper.
“Of course, they may not even accept me back as their daughter,” Miss Kirkland continued with a wry smile. “Now that I am sullied goods, they may be unwilling to have me under their roof, let alone under their protection.”
James’ eyes flickered over her, taking in the golden hair, the curve of her jaw as she spoke, the gently rising breasts that seemed barely contained in her gown, the slope of her waist. By God, what it would have been like to enjoy her – and this Mr Bentley had had that privilege, though it sounds like he little deserves her.
His imagination uncontrolled by the smallest of moments, she was above him, straddling him, her hair pouring down towards him as her luscious mouth –
“Mr Paendly?”
James jumped as the real Miss Kirkland stared at him.
It was ridiculous to attempt to lie to himself now: he wanted her, and he wanted her more now that he knew some other man had taken from her that most precious thing.
Her innocence gone, her parental protection almost certainly revoked, who would care for her now?
The longing in his loins grew. He could take her for his own, that was true. He would more than enjoy her, and he could give her such pleasure, such security that this Bentley fool never could.
The memory of his last mistress rose to the surface. True, she had wanted marriage and he had been forced to break it off, but he did not think Miss Rebecca Kirkland to be cut from the same cloth.
“I will admit,” he said slowly, “I had never considered the female sex to be so…mercenary.”
Miss Kirkland raised an eyebrow. “Mercenary?”
“Controlled,” James said hastily. “Control over one’s emotions has always been traditionally seen as the gentleman’s province, and yet you seem nothing but calm over your broken engagement with Mr Bentley.”
“Just because I am able to control my feelings does not mean that I do not have them,” she snapped back at him.
“Do you not think that I realise just how limited my choices in life are now? Do you not think that I see the impossible position that I am now placed in? But I would rather have limited choices, and a potentially ruined name than marry a man who was only interested in me as a means to an end.”
If James had thought that she would be unable to surprise him, even now, he was once again proved wrong.
Miss Kirkland had a spirit in her, a fire that was stronger and more fiery than any woman that he had ever met – any man, even.
The Viscount of Paendly had never found himself wanting in female companionship, but he had experienced more surprise, joy, and confusion with Rebecca – Miss Kirkland – in the last twenty four hours than in his entire lifetime.
“And I will admit,” and now Miss Kirkland’s gaze moved away from him and back towards the window, watching the scenery as it rushed past on their voyage across England, “I almost wish that I was sullied, my innocence gone. I will have to accept all the loss of dignity and reputation without any of the pleasure.”
James’ mouth fell open, and a pleasurable but painful lurch in his loins told him all he needed to know about his body’s response to her words.
So, he had not touched her. She did not know the exquisite joy that a man could give a woman.
The conversation was evidently at an end from Miss Kirkland’s perspective, but James did not need words to continue.
His body knew what she needed now, and if he was not wrong, he would find a way to satisfy her.