Chapter 14
Cool, crisp night air hit Jeremy in the face like a slap as he stepped onto the terrace. Exactly what he needed to shake off the discomfort of that awful ballroom and all the whispering, gossiping wastrels inside.
The scent of roses enveloped him as he continued on down a shallow set of steps, following a white-gravel path into the expansive gardens.
Moonlight reflected off the little stones to guide his way, though he did not really care where he ended up; he just wanted to be as far from that ballroom, those guests, and his memories as possible.
He might have continued walking until he reached Stonebridge, if it were not for the accompanying crunch of footsteps on the gravel.
Jeremy stopped in the shadow of a cedar tree, far inferior to the one at his manor. “Ye should not be out here, lass.”
“And you should not walk away from me with such little decorum,” Anna’s voice fired back.
“You say you want me to find a husband, yet you bring me to a masquerade ball, you cause a scene with my cousin, you intrude upon a dance, and then you abandon me on the dance floor! You said you were taught about English customs, but it seems there are some gaps in your knowledge.”
“I must not have been listening that day,” he replied dryly, keeping his back to her.
But she clearly did not get the hint that he was not in the mood for this. With her shoulders back and her chin raised, she stepped in front of him and stood there, preventing him from continuing his walk.
“You never leave a lady on the dance floor,” she said sharply. “You escort her back to wherever she was before the dance. You escort her back to her chaperone, if she has one, or her friends.”
Jeremy canted his head. “Ye have neither.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“And ye arrived with me, so where was I supposed to take ye back to?” he continued, hit with a little pinch of guilt at his last remark.
It could not have been easy for her to make or retain friends if everyone in society suspected her of playing a part in her husband’s death. Even those who liked her and thought kindly of her would not be able to be seen with her, lest they tarnish their own reputations by association.
Ye must have been very lonely in that manor, lass… He almost said it, but Anna jumped in before he could.
“Anywhere!” she retorted. “You could have taken me to get refreshments, or we could have left altogether. What is worse, you left me there while everyone was staring. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you not think I have borne enough of that over this past year or so?”
He bristled at her accusation. “Have ye ventured out of the manor that much?”
“Well… no, but I have read what they write about me,” she replied, her voice losing some of its ferocity.
“They do not forget as quickly as you might think. Whenever there is nothing else to write about, they write about me. They ask where I have disappeared to, if I am not ashamed of myself, why I have not faced justice, what right I have to continue with my title and position when I snuffed out a nobleman’s life. ”
He shrugged. “Don’t read it, then.”
“Don’t read—” She barked a laugh. “Goodness, it must have been so lovely in your quiet corner of Scotland, where nothing could bother you and society had no notion of who you were. Even if I do not read what they say about me, I can feel their cruelty, their misplaced judgment.”
Jeremy took a step toward her, unable to help himself. “So, ye admit it; ye didn’t kill him?”
“Of course I did not,” she rasped, her hand flying to her heart as her bosom heaved with the exertion of her strained breaths. “I was terrified of him. I knew he was not a good man, but I was prepared to do my duty. As I said before, I had no choice. I had nowhere else to go.”
He lifted his hand to her face, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “When did ye say he died?”
“I… do not think I did.”
“So, tell me,” he encouraged, a strange, taut sensation of possibility taking hold of his chest.
Her throat bobbed as she stared fiercely into his eyes.
“He died on our wedding night.” She turned away quickly.
“Of course, everyone struggled to believe it was a coincidence. There must be countless ladies who have wished for the same thing on their wedding nights to men they do not know, do not like, and had no choice in marrying.”
Jeremy sensed the pain in her voice and moved instinctively before he could stop himself. His arm slipped around her waist, his hand sliding up the back of her neck, as he guided her backward into the shadow of the cedar tree.
Nay wonder she got flustered when ye tried to raise her skirts.
He had assumed she was familiar with such things, being a widow and all.
How mistaken he had been. If that man died on their wedding night, then she had likely only experienced it once, and it clearly hadn’t been a pleasant experience with all the death and indignity that had followed.
“Ye shouldn’t be afraid of the touch of a man, lass,” he purred, her quiet gasp pouring fuel onto the blaze of his desire as her shoulders bumped into the tree trunk. “Nay lass should.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes alight with surprise.
“That is… easy for you to say.” Her teeth raked her lower lip as his hand skimmed the curve of her waist. “In that ballroom alone, you will find that… the majority did not want to marry their husbands. Yet, the gentlemen do not mind who they marry, for they will not be spurned and cast out for… indulging elsewhere.”
“That is a tragedy,” Jeremy whispered, close to her ear.
Slowly, unable to resist, he dipped his head further and let his lips graze the soft skin of her bare shoulder.
Her body trembled in his embrace, her hands sliding up his chest with the hesitancy of someone who just needed encouragement.
Something he was more than willing to give as he kissed the curve of her neck and pressed himself more firmly against her, so she might feel the effect she had on him.
“A lass should know pleasure,” he told her softly. “A lass should have the freedom to learn what she likes, what makes her shiver, what makes her burn with the fever of bliss. She should never be scared, and nay man should ever take a woman who is afraid or unwilling.”
He kissed his way up to her jaw, taking his time as he moved toward her mouth.
“Tell me, lass, are ye afraid?”
Her hands grasped fistfuls of his shirt, the light tug of her arms pulling him closer in answer. “Not nearly as much as I probably should be,” she murmured. “Out here, in the dark, alone with you.”
To hide his smile, Jeremy kissed her: hard and hungry and passionate, savoring the moment he had imagined repeating since he had kissed her in the library.
This time, she did not hesitate to return the fervent, fiery graze, kissing him back with a wild abandon that would take a hundred ice-cold baths to forget.
He pushed her against the cedar tree, intoxicated by the smell of the needles and her sweet scent, each gasp from her lips fueling his desire more and more. The gardens and the unpleasantness of the ball faded away, leaving only her and the eager press of her mouth against his.
“Och, lass,” he murmured as he kissed his way back down the column of her throat, letting his hand cradle the nape of her neck that distracted him so much.
Her gown wasn’t as structured as her usual dresses, and as his fingertips danced across her bare shoulders, he knew he could ease the short sleeve of fabric down her arm without resistance.
He pushed it slightly and bent his head, kissing along the edge of her collarbone, feeling her rise up on tiptoe to meet the exploration of his lips.
A blessing, in truth, given the difference in their heights.
Although there were always ways around that particular issue.
To prove the point, he let his hands map the exquisite curves of her narrow waist and shapely hips, until they settled behind her tormenting thighs.
In one swift, powerful move, he hoisted her up and pressed her back into the cedar trunk, barely able to contain his need for her as she instinctively locked her legs around him.
He smiled against her neck before kissing downward, no longer needing to bend so far or strain his neck. Gently, he teased aside the draped fabric of her Grecian bodice, eager for a taste of her ripe bosom.
A soft cry rippled from her throat as he traced his tongue over the swell of her breast, while his other hand gripped her thigh. Taking everything slowly, as if they had all the time in the world.
But as his hand started to move upward, toward the heat of her, and his teeth brushed the edge of her neckline, a moment away from pulling it aside to find the sensitive peak of her nipple, her teasing moans turned into a quick, sharp gasp.
“Stop,” she panted, though she clung to him in a most confusing fashion. “You must stop. We must.”
He paused. “I will not hurt ye, lass.”
“I have taken leave of my senses!” she whispered, her eyes wide. “We are at the Marquess’s manor! There is a ball underway, right over there! Someone might see us. Please, set me down at once.”
He did not need to be asked twice. Carefully, he put her back on her feet, though he did not immediately step away. He could not, not without ensuring that she looked exactly as she had before he had gotten swept up in his desire.
With a tender touch, he put her short sleeve back onto her shoulder and gently teased the neckline of her gown back to where it ought to be. Only then did he step backward, where he offered his arm to her.
Anna glanced at the proffered arm and shook her head.
Offering him no word at all, she hitched up her skirts just a little and began to hurry toward the lights of the manor.
A memory of when she had come to complain at him beneath the cedar tree at Stonebridge came to him, when he had glimpsed the slender line of her ankles.
One more encounter like this, and I might actually scare her right out of me life. He had meant the thought as an amusement, to take his mind off her sudden departure, but he found that there was no mirth in it as she blended into the dark and vanished.
Even before his brother passed, his life had never been more interesting than it had been since meeting her.
And that was exactly why he had to follow the plan. She had been through enough; he would not become another dark chapter in her story.
The carriage rocked violently over the shadowed country roads on its short but uncomfortable trip back to Stonebridge.
I know why I am silent, but why is he?
Anna forced herself to stare out the window at the passing night world, but she could see Jeremy in her peripheral vision.
He had not sought her out or spoken to her since their risky moment beneath the cedar tree, and she had not either.
Not until she told him she wanted to leave, anyway, but he just nodded and escorted her out silently.
Is he angry that I stopped us from doing something stupid?
She frowned at the looming hedgerows, her thoughts as impossible to decipher as the smudges and dark shapes of the world beyond the window.
Is he saying nothing because he, too, has realized how foolish it was?
No one within the ballroom had seemed to notice her excursion to the gardens, and no one had mentioned her absence upon her return.
Then again, she had only spoken briefly to Colin, and then had a lovely conversation with a group of young ladies that had swiftly turned sour when they learned who she was, and scurried off.
Fine. We shall be silent. We shall not talk at all about what happened. We shall forget it ever happened.
She folded her arms across her chest and let out a small sigh of relief when they soon crossed the gates of Stonebridge. Being home was a wonderful feeling, even if Jeremy wanted to take it away from her.
As the carriage came to a standstill outside the entrance steps, Jeremy stepped out first and reached out his hand. Anna looked at it, considered taking it, then decided against it, choosing to step down on her own and move toward the house.
Jeremy followed closely behind her, his silence distinctly weighted… as if he wanted to say something to her but was holding it back.
It is likely yet another command for me to marry as soon as possible.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and cast him a cool look. “Goodnight, Your Grace.”
Deciding that she would be the one with the last word, she turned back and made her hasty ascent before he had the chance to reply.
After all, what could be said to make any of this better?
Once again, she had been bewitched and overcome by temptation.
Once again, she had indulged with a married man.
And, this time, she did not have the excuse of not knowing he had a family, who would soon be coming to this manor, squeezing her out whether she liked it or not.
Perhaps, instead of ‘goodnight,’ she should have said ‘goodbye.’