Chapter Ten
L aughing as Jupiter drew ahead of Lucky, Joanna raised her face to the sun, happier now than she could ever remember being before. With the carpet of gorgeous pink-purple heather spread out before them, the heady scent of the little flowers perfuming the air, and the all-but-unfettered freedom of riding with Mr. Dandridge, Joanna was certain she’d entered paradise. This was the third day they had ridden out to gather heather, today the first time with only a groom for a chaperone.
Thomas had accompanied them the past two afternoons, after her morning shooting practice with Mr. Dandridge, watching them like a hawk for any sign of inappropriate behavior. Today however, to her astonishment, he’d bowed out. Perhaps her friend had wearied of the mundane task of watching her pick heather while Marcus—as she secretly called him to herself—held and carried the sacks. Or maybe, after such circumspect behavior on Mr. Dandridge’s part, Thomas had come to believe he was harmless where she was concerned. A sentiment Geoffrey would certainly never have subscribed to, but then Thomas didn’t need to know that. Whatever the reason for their unconstrained state, today she and Marcus were virtually alone out on the hills and she meant to make the most of this time together.
They crested a low rise and the sight of a carpet of heather, stretching for miles over the moor, made Joanna gasp at the sheer beauty of it. She pulled Jupiter down from his ground-eating canter to a trot, slowing to a walk as Marcus and the groom caught up to her. “Have you ever seen anything as absolutely beautiful in your life, Mr. Dandridge?”
“I must confess that I have, my lady.” He’d pulled Lucky up beside her and they continued at a walk. He turned to her. “I’m looking at it now.”
“Hah.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I didn’t peg you for a flatterer, sir.”
“And you will not find me one, Lady Joanna. I speak only the truth.” He shrugged. “From my perspective at least. Others may not see with the clarity of my eyes.”
“Very pretty words, Mr. Dandridge.” She kept her gaze forward, secretly pleased by his words. In her heart she knew they were not flattery, that he likely truly thought her beautiful. No man would go to the lengths he had to court her and not be sincere about his feelings for her. “I thank you for the courtesy.”
“You’re welcome, my lady. Is this a likely spot for today’s gathering, then?” He nodded to the bank of purple flowers that stretched down a gentle slope toward a rushing stream.
“The perfect spot, I’d say.” Joanna pulled Jupiter to a halt and waited, as she’d learned to do, for Marcus to come assist her down. This moment had been the pinnacle of her day for each of the past three days, to feel his strong hands encircle her waist and lift her down from the horse. That it was the briefest of instants, she had to put aside and simply revel in every second she could eke out of this most intimate, most pleasurable courtesy.
He was there in a jiffy, his handsome face raised to hers, his dark eyes peering into hers as his hands fastened onto her body. As soon as he touched her, heat began to build inside, as though she were a small chamber where a roaring fire had been stoked to the hilt. It was a wonder her face wasn’t the deep red of the Scottish plaid that hung in her bedchamber. Lord, why did she have to think of her bedchamber? Joanna gasped as she slid off Jupiter, landing right at Marcus’s feet. She swayed and he steadied her, but not before she put her hand on his chest to keep from leaning against him. Good thing too, for the streak of fire that shot up her arm and lodged low in her stomach was powerful enough to elicit a moan from her. She shuddered to think what her reaction might have been had she touched more of him.
Marcus’s eyes closed for the briefest second at her touch, as if savoring it, or trying to control his reaction to it. What was he feeling at this moment? Joanna would give anything to know. She opened her mouth to ask if something was the matter, but his eyes opened, the deep chestnut depths gleaming with some emotion—joy, desire, or triumph? Then he stepped back and released her before motioning her to go ahead of him. “Bring the sacks, George,” he called to the groom as he followed her down the slope toward the waving heather.
Trying to refocus her attention on something, anything really, and not on the tingles that even now were dissipating throughout her body, Joanna stooped and plucked a bright yellow dandelion from the ground at her feet. There were many scattered over the grass near where the heather began to grow. Turning to Marcus, she smiled and offered the jaunty flower to him. “My brother has likened you to the dandelion, Mr. Dandridge. He says you are like a common weed trying to spread your roots among the cultivated flowers, insidious in your pursuit of me and just as tenacious as these stubborn plants.”
“Lord Longford is very colorful in his metaphors, my lady.” He took the yellow flower and sniffed it, then stuck it in his pocket. “Did he also say tell you that the dandelion is one of the hardiest plants? They can grow almost anywhere and thrive even in harsh conditions.” Marcus met her eyes and her heart began to race. “They are survivors, my lady, as I am. Your brother is very astute, although not exactly complimentary in his judgement of me.”
“Then I hope you understand that my views and my brother’s do not always follow the same course.” Suddenly shy, Joanna withdrew a pair of silver gardening shears from the pocket of her blue riding habit, bent swiftly and began to cut the tops of the colorful heather. Though shaky at first, her hands grew steadier the longer she snipped. She concentrated on making a diagonal cut, and before long, her left hand was filled with the blooms. She straightened and turned, to find Marcus just behind her. Startled at his unexpected proximity, she gave a squeak and promptly dropped all the heather cuttings to the ground.
“I beg your pardon, Lady Joanna. I didn’t mean to startle you like that.” He immediately bent and began picking up the flowers and stuffing them in the burlap sack he carried. “I thought you knew I was just behind you.”
“No, I didn’t realize you were so close.” Had she done so, she’d likely have been even more self-conscious. “Thank you for helping me with all the gathering.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He glanced up at her, his gaze resting on her face, a smile on his lips. “I would do anything for you, my lady.”
A sentiment many gentlemen professed, but one she believed Marcus meant with all his heart. Her most pressing question was why. “I think you speak truly, Mr. Dandridge, although I must confess I am confused as to your motive concerning your devotion to me. I mean,” she cut him off before he could speak, “Geoffrey told me that last year you in effect offered him twenty thousand pounds to give consent for me to marry you.” Joanna strode a little way away, eager and yet fearing to hear his answer to her next question. “A vast sum, wouldn’t you agree, when you hadn’t even met me at the time.” She turned to him, dread clutching at her heart because she knew instinctively that whatever he would say to others, he would tell her the truth. “Can you tell me why you did that?”
Marcus rose from the heather, the sack still clutched in his hand.
His tailor must be commended for excellent work, for the man before her was dressed so impeccably, Joanna could scarcely take her eyes off him. The blue superfine jacket hugged Marcus’s body like a glove, accentuating the square shoulders and putting the long arms into proportion. His buff breeches also drew attention to the man’s narrow waist and long, well-muscled calves, heightening his masculinity until it filled all her senses. Joanna’s mouth dried to dust as she waited for his response.
“Of course, my lady. Surely you have a right to know.” Marcus came toward her, until he stood directly in front of her. “Do you happen to remember a garden party at Lord Braeton’s estate in Sussex over a year ago now? You were wearing a pink sprigged gown with cherry-colored streamers and you were playing croquet.”
“Oh, yes.” Joanna nodded eagerly. “I remember that day because I actually won the game. I’d never won before.” She grinned at him then cocked her head. “Were you there?”
“I was. I took one look at you, the joy on your face, the sweet sound of your voice, and I…” He stopped, a faint tinge of red creeping into his face. “I fell in love with you.”
Joanna froze to the spot, all trace of levity wiped from her face. It might be fun to imagine a gentleman professing those words, but quite a different experience to actually have it happen. No matter what she might have supposed Mr. Dandridge thought of her, to hear those words, spoken with utmost sincerity, made her heart race and her ears begin to ring. The edges of her world started to gray out…until Marcus seized her arm, his face now close to hers.
“Lady Joanna? My lady? Here.” He lowered her to the ground, and the roaring in her ears began to subside. “George, fetch my flask from the carry bag.”
The next thing Joanna knew, the small neck of a metal flask was thrust between her lips and tilted upward. A gush of harsh tasting brandy ensued, which she swallowed, then choked and coughed, bringing her fully aware again. Marcus sat next to her still holding the spirits, seeming ready to force it down her throat again if he suspected there was need. She put out her hand to stop such an appalling action. “Thank you, Mr. Dandridge, but I am fine.”
“I will be the judge of that.” He peered into her face and she scowled at him, her sensibilities returning.
“Help me up please. My habit will be stained with heather.” She began to scramble up, but he jumped to his feet and lifted her as though she herself was a stem of heather.
“We cannot have you being said to have a green gown.” Marcus chuckled, the fear from earlier gone from his face.
“What does that mean?” Joanna beat at her habit, which did have several purple blooms clinging to it.
“For a woman to have a green gown means it’s stained with grass because she’s had a tumble there.” His mouth puckered.
“Because she fell down?” Joanna twisted about, trying to see if she’d sustained such damages to her clothes.
“Well, she wasn’t alone there on the grass. She was in the company of a man.”
“Like we just were?” She gazed at him, confused. The other day Thomas had thought it something scandalous.
“No, my lady. Not like this.” He sighed. “Like married people might lie together.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Ohhh.” Joanna’s cheeks heated and she clamped her hands over them. “No wonder Thomas was so angry.”
“Are you feeling better now, after my revelation?”
Joanna eyed him. “You are a fount of wisdom today, Mr. Dandridge.”
His infectious grin was back. “I know how to redirect someone’s attention, my lady.” He gazed at her from beneath guarded eyes. “I apologize if the confession of my feelings distressed you.”
“You surprised me, Mr. Dandridge. I’ve never had someone declare their love for me before.” An unsettling experience to say the least. And one that now gave her a great deal to think about. It was one thing to suspect that a gentleman had affection for one, but a completely different thing indeed to be told that he loved her. “I think perhaps we should return to the lodge.”
Furtively, Joanna eyed him, her stomach tightening painfully. It was as though she’d never truly seen him before. The handsome looks she’d observed immediately in May, of course, but now she peered deeper into his face, detecting a pain she’d not bothered to notice before. The longing in those dark eyes suddenly conveyed the absolute misery of a man without hope of the heaven he sought so relentlessly. The utter despair coupled with the undeniable hunger in his gaze made Joanna catch her breath. This was not mere infatuation, nor even an affectionate regard, but the full-blown passion of a man completely in love with her.
As she strode toward the waiting horses, Joanna could not dispel the image of Marcus’s undisguised emotion even though she’d quickly looked away from him. She prayed that knowing the depth of his regard for her wouldn’t alter their easy companionship, although she feared it must. Even now, her heart beat faster than normal and her hands shook so badly, she balled them into fists in an attempt to control them. Reaching Jupiter, she ran her hands over the horse’s smooth hide, trying to calm herself. She should not be so affected by his declaration. They both understood too well that nothing could come of it. Geoffrey’s displeasure with Mr. Dandridge would never allow for such a thing. Joanna gripped Jupiter’s mane, her lips trembling.
“I am very sorry, my lady, that my words have made you angry.” Marcus had been only two steps behind her.
“I’m not angry.” But she was, though not at him. For the first time she wished she was anyone but Lady Joanna Longford, anyone whose relations would not disparage Marcus’s parentage or background. Who would see him for the astonishing man he was. To have overcome poverty and improved himself in the social graces so dramatically… That was the mark of an intelligent, sensitive, determined man. A man any woman’s family should feel fortunate to be aligned with. A man any woman should be deliriously happy to call husband. So why couldn’t she?
“Oh, but I think you are.” He put his hand over hers and carefully pried it from Jupiter’s mane. “Allow me to apologize.”
“Do not apologize!” She whirled around to face him. “You have nothing to apologize for, Marcus.”
The stunned look on his face—as though the very ground beneath his feet had dropped away leaving him hovering over some cataclysmic abyss—made Joanna fear what he might do next. Indeed, he took a step backward, his head cocked slightly to the side, as though he didn’t believe he’d heard her call him by his name. “My lady?”
Joanna almost didn’t believe it herself, but by God she wouldn’t take it back. Neither would she let him retreat either. Without thought, she stepped in toward him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him.
Immediately, Joanna realized she might be in deep waters without any idea what to do. She’d never kissed a man before, although she’d seen quite a bit of kissing ever since Geoffrey had married. Still, the practice of it was far different than being a mere spectator. Marcus’s lips were much softer than she’d suspected. Although she knew him to be a gentleman at heart, she’d still expected his kiss to be rough, insistent, full of the passion she’d glimpsed in his eyes. Instead, he touched her lips gently, almost reverently, as if she were a statue at some holy shrine.
And though she might not know much about kissing, she did know that wasn’t what she wanted. Not from Marcus. Joanna pressed her mouth to his more insistently, leaning her body fully against his. She couldn’t think of what else to do to signal her eagerness for this kiss, but Marcus had to know. Surely, he’d done this before.
Suddenly, his arms went around her and she was crushed to his chest, her breath almost stopped by the force of his embrace. Now greedy, his mouth pressed against hers, a plaintive moan escaping his throat. Then his tongue pushed insistently against her lips and Joanna gladly opened them, delighting in the amazing sensation as it slid into her mouth. She ceased to think about anything, but instead simply allowed herself to revel in every stroke, every swirl, every caress he shared with her. Warmth cascaded throughout her, radiating from her mouth, down her arm, through her body to lodge low in her body, a pulsing heat that made her ache for even more of his touch.
With a gasp, as though coming up for air after being submerged for a long time, Marcus broke the kiss and staggered back until he was more than an arm’s length from her. He stared at her with eyes as black as coal, his face flushed, his breath coming in harsh pants. “We should not have done that, my lady.”
She leveled an unwavering gaze at him. “Do you regret it?”
“Not in the least.”
Joanna sighed in relief. “Then I suggest we discover a way to move forward in our courtship.” She turned back to Jupiter, the heat from their encounter still making her tingle all over. “Will you help me up?”
He tossed her up in the saddle and she settled her leg around the pommel before turning her gaze on him once more. “Because I did not regret it either, Marcus. And I mean for us to repeat the experience as soon as possible.”