Chapter Seventeen
‘Are you sure it cannot be repaired?’ Miss Granger asked Dolph. ‘We could wait.’
Lucas smothered a smile. Poor Miss Granger was beside herself, and he couldn’t blame her. The universe had thrust another unexpected surprise on her this evening, and after their kiss, this was evidently one surprise too many for her.
Dolph rested his hand on her forearm. ‘We would be waiting until the early hours, most likely dawn, for the carriage wheel to be repaired, and I do not wish to be such an ungentlemanly host. Lucas has offered us a ride home, and Miss Hastings is settled with the Duke and Duchess, which I am most grateful for. We should accept before Lucas changes his mind. I know his generosity only extends so far,’ he joked.
She sighed. ‘You are right. Thank you, Lord Worthing. I apologise for interrupting your evening with Miss Grey.’
‘We are pleased to have you join us,’ Miss Grey offered. ‘This way, I will have the necessary chaperone.’
‘Did you not travel with anyone else here?’ Miss Granger replied, lifting a brow of censure in his direction. Somehow, she had just noticed the societal indiscretion. He shrugged away her concern.
‘No,’ Miss Grey replied, lowering her gaze. ‘My mother would not allow it. She did not approve of my outing to the Gardens. She believes they are unseemly.’
Rather than needling either of them further about it, Miss Granger smiled. Her unease shifted to the support of Miss Grey and her features softened. ‘Then perhaps our misfortune is timely and for the best. Thank you for the offer to accompany you both.’
‘It is settled then,’ Dolph added.
‘Then, let us go,’ Lucas offered, extending his arm, so the ladies could enter his carriage first. It just so happened that the ladies sat side by side, and when Dolph slid into the squabs, he was facing Miss Grey.
This left Lucas facing Miss Granger. When he met her gaze, she took in a sharp breath and looked out the window.
The gentle movement shifted her décolletage and the tiny glass pendant nestled there glimmered between her breasts.
Images of all the other places he could kiss her and how her flesh would feel under his lips made his throat dry.
Now that he had tasted her, how could he ever look at her the same?
In short, he couldn’t. He looked away and caught Miss Grey’s assessing gaze. He forced a smile and stared out the opposite window as the carriage pulled away from the Gardens.
She is your matchmaker. It was an accident. Leave it be.
The words he told himself didn’t matter.
All he wanted to do was kiss Miss Granger—Ophelia—again even though it was the last thing he should have wanted in all the world.
Kissing her would make them both fools, as nothing between them could ever last. There was too much passion, emotion and feelings he did not trust. He needed a woman like Miss Grey, whom he found companionable and pleasing, but not all-consuming.
Marrying a woman such as Miss Grey would lend him a life of contentment, safety and peace.
Allowing himself another kiss or anything else with Ophelia—Miss Granger—was too dangerous and unpredictable, and he wasn’t willing to ruin their futures.
For while he would be enough for Miss Grey, he would fall far short of meeting Miss Granger’s romantic and dreamy vision of her future.
And he dared not be so reckless with his own future or anyone else’s again.
Ophelia fidgeted with the reticule in her lap, trying to find something to talk about, but as was wont to happen, when she needed words most, they failed her. This carriage ride would be an eternity if no one spoke. Finally, Miss Grey saved them all.
‘How did you and Lord Worthing meet, Miss Granger?’ she asked.
Ophelia’s stomach curdled. Maybe talking wasn’t the best idea.
How did she navigate this without revealing her arrangement with him?
His contract and employment of her to find him a bride was his secret to reveal, not hers.
She glanced over at Lord Phoenix, whose features remained neutral as if he too was not sure how to navigate such a question.
‘Let me help answer that, Miss Grey,’ Lord Worthing replied. ‘I know Miss Granger will be loath to tell you out of a sense of propriety and the need to protect me.’
Miss Grey shifted on the squab, her trepidation obvious in her wide-eyed gaze. It seemed the world had taught her to expect the worst and a part of Ophelia understood that and felt sympathy for her plight.
‘As I told you on our ride to the Gardens, I had an extended…absence from Society and I am just now reengaging with the world, so to speak.’
‘Yes, my lord. You mentioned that.’
‘Well, I left out the part that I have engaged help with my reintroduction to the ton. That help is Miss Granger. She is a matchmaker.’
Ophelia bit her lip. Who knew how the woman would react?
After a bit of a delay where the young woman’s mouth gaped open, she snapped it shut, smiled and clapped her hands together. ‘How exciting!’ she said.
To his credit, Lord Worthing laughed good-naturedly at her response. ‘And this outing and inviting you to join me was all part of her plan to help me…’ He hesitated. ‘Find a bride.’
Miss Grey pressed a hand to her chest. ‘My lord, what a romantic and worthy endeavor. I am even more honoured to have been invited to join you this evening.’ She turned toward Ophelia. ‘And Miss Granger, I am so impressed. You are a matchmaker?’
‘Yes. I am,’ Ophelia replied, touched by the woman’s appraisal of her.
‘To be so accomplished at such a young age is remarkable. I would love to have gifts like yours.’
‘It appears I am not your only fan, Miss Granger,’ Lord Phoenix murmured, his gaze on Ophelia full of admiration.
‘Thank you both,’ she replied, trying to suppress how the approval and support from all of them tightened her chest, threatening to overwhelm her.
The way Lord Phoenix looked at her was wonderful, but the way Lord Worthing had kissed her was everything.
Even here sitting across from him, she swore she could still feel his touch, his heat, his lips on her own.
She took in a breath as her flesh heated at the memory, and she commanded herself to think of something else.
Anything else.
The carriage took a sharp turn off the bridge, and Lord Worthing’s boot slid against her slipper as he braced himself, deepening the heat through her.
Suddenly, she was imagining just the two of them in the carriage, with him kissing her as he had before and gently pushing her back on the squabs, kissing and caressing every bit of flesh he could reach along her neck and collarbone and…
She moved her slipper away from his and the flash of fantasy faded away, leaving her dizzy and breathless.
‘Miss Granger?’ Lord Worthing said.
She blinked and met his gaze. ‘Yes?’ she asked.
‘I believe this is yours,’ he said reaching out to her with her beaded reticule in his hand. ‘It fell to the floor on the turn,’ he added.
‘Oh, yes, yes,’ she stammered. ‘Thank you.’
As she accepted the bag from him, their fingers touched, and the fire she had squelched only moments ago ignited again. She smothered a nervous laugh. How in the world would she manage finding him a match now when she could barely cope being in his company?
Tears threatened as her frustration brewed.
Sisters for ever, tears never.
She ran her fingers over the lavender beads on her bracelet and blinked back the emotion.
Hattie and Trudy would know what to do. She was sure of it.
As the carriage came to a rocking halt in front of Westchester Manor, Ophelia released a breath.
She had never been so glad to be home and to face Simmons, the butler, in all her life.
‘Do you mind if I escort her in?’ Lord Phoenix asked Lord Worthing.
‘Please do. Good night, Miss Granger,’ he said. His gaze was heavy and full of meaning she hoped only she could see.
The driver opened the door and assisted Ophelia out. She was unsteady on her feet and grateful for Lord Phoenix’s assistance as he offered his arm and they walked to the door. ‘May I come in for a moment?’ he asked.
His request made her uncertain, but she agreed.
Had he seen what she’d done? Did he know about the illicit kiss she and Lord Worthing had shared?
Her heart hammered in her chest as he used the knocker to announce their arrival.
Simmons opened the door, greeted them, and then they went into the parlour.
They left the door cracked open, and Ophelia walked over to the table that held a decanter with glasses.
‘A drink?’ she asked, her hands trembling as she touched a glass.
‘No. Thank you,’ he said, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He seemed nervous and uncertain for the first time since she’d met him.
Gah. Her throat dried.
‘Did something happen tonight?’ he asked.
She bit her lip. Oh, God. He knows.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked evasively, not ready to reveal the truth quite yet.
‘Since the fireworks, you have seemed…upset. Distracted. Did I do something to offend you?’ His features softened, making him look boyish and young.
Blast. He thinks he did something.
‘Of course not,’ she said approaching him, clutching her hands before her.
‘Then, why would you not look at me during the ride home? Something has happened. I just cannot fathom what.’
She walked over to look out the window at the garden. She had to tell him, no matter what impact it might have or the embarrassment it might cause her. He was a good man, and if he was somehow to be her prince, she would have to tell him. She summoned courage and blurted out, ‘I made a mistake.’
He came to her and ran his fingers along the back of her bare arm above her glove, raising goose flesh along her skin. ‘I cannot imagine you doing anything of the sort. Indeed, you may be perfection itself,’ he mused.
She turned to face him. Mortification made her skin hot and achy, and frustration made her eyes well with unshed tears.
‘I… I decided I wanted to kiss you at the canal, and I thought it was you along the railing…and I ended up kissing Lord Worthing instead,’ she stammered, looking down at the floor.
‘I am embarrassed, but I cannot undo it…and…’
He lifted her chin to face him. The soft, feathery feel of his fingertips was the opposite of Lord Worthing’s calloused, rough pads, and the contrast startled her. She risked meeting Lord Phoenix’s gaze and discovered he was smiling at her.
Smiling. Who was this man?
She was stunned. ‘You are not angry with me?’
‘No,’ he replied, amusement in his gaze.
‘Firstly, I am not a jealous man by nature. Second, I am flattered you had such interest and daring to try to kiss me. And thirdly, now I have a reason to find the perfect moment to kiss you as I have longed to do, so I can wipe all memory of his kiss from your mind. Just as I have longed to call you by your given name. May I?’
She smiled in relief. ‘Yes. And may I call you by your given name?’
He nodded and cupped her face before bending down to gently kiss her lips. It was the lightest and gentlest of touches, the exact opposite of Lord Worthing’s kiss. ‘Good night, Ophelia,’ he said softly before letting her go.
‘Good night, Dolph,’ she replied.
‘I like the sound of my name on your lips,’ he whispered, a sparkle of mischief and intention in his gaze. ‘I should leave while I still can.’
And as he walked out of the parlour, she pressed her fingers to her lips and stilled, the horror of the moment setting in.
She was falling in love, but with the wrong man.
While she should have been mooning over the sweet moment she had just shared with Lord Randolph Phoenix, Ophelia’s thoughts were on something and someone else entirely.
The delicious memory of the elicit, passionate and all-consuming kiss she had shared in the dark by the canal tonight, with her client, Lord Lucas Worthing, the man who was slowly but surely winning over her heart and yet was unwilling to risk loving her or anyone at all.