Chapter Four
John did his best to hide the scowl that he knew continuously crept up on his brow.
He was not happy. Not happy at all! This was not how he thought his house party would be progressing.
He had thought Clara would be far along with finding a suitable husband and that he could once again retire to his comfortable bachelor life.
A peaceful tranquility of doing what he wanted, when he wanted, without any women to bother him or demand his undivided attention.
Now, Clara all but ignored him when he would introduce her to several friends he thought would be suitable.
In fact, she was so busy ensuring the party ran smoothly, including all the activities she had planned, that John doubted she had much time to even think about finding a spouse.
And then there was Jemima… Lady Torshell.
Bloody Hell! The woman was a complete nuisance and a thorn in his side from the moment he made an appearance in the morning until he retired in the evenings.
He had made a mistake bringing her here, much like Stonehaven and his duchess had tried to warn him.
And then there was Annette… beautiful, lovely, flirtatious Annette.
My God, was the woman going to toy with every man present just to irritate the hell out of him?
Clara had told him that their family friend Alistair was completely infatuated with her and she wouldn’t be surprised if an announcement would be made by the final nights’ ball.
But he had also seen this same so-called “friend” lead on his own sister.
Now John gritted his teeth as he watched Annette across the room, his gut churning with regret.
“What the devil is she doing now?” John complained to himself as he once again watched Annette from across the crowded room.
The impulse to either pull her from the party and berate her for her antics or senselessly kiss those pouty lips was getting more difficult by the day.
And the nights… his dreams were filled with her.
“She appears to be enjoying herself as any young lady should be during a house party. What does it matter what she’s doing or with whom?
You released her from any obligation two years ago.
Forget about her and enjoy Lady Torshell’s company instead.
If you can.” The Duke of Stonehaven shuddered as the lady herself waved from across the room.
“You see? She seems generally interested in furthering a relationship with you.”
John pretended not to notice while Jemima continued flapping her arms around to either gain his attention or take flight. Either one was exhausting. “You were right,” he mumbled, hating to admit he had erred.
Snarky laughter came from his longtime friend as he cupped his hand at the side of his own head like an ear trumpet. “What was that?” He continued chuckling. “I must have misheard you.”
John grunted. “You were right… at least where Lady Torshell is concerned. I should never have invited her.”
“I’m right about more than that—which includes what I told you two years ago. You never should have broken things off with Lady Saxton.”
“At the time, it seemed the most sensible thing to do. How many years did I complain to you that I was being forced into an arrangement that I didn’t desire?” John asked, sneaking a glance at his friend who in returned appeared amused by his wretchedness.
“If you’re that miserable, then for the love of God, John, go and talk to her,” Stonehaven said in a low tone.
“She must hate me, Laurance,” he said just as quietly while addressing the duke as they had in their youth. He continued to observe Annette’s every move.
“There’s only one way to change all that. You don’t want to look back on your life with regret. I think you’ve kept that poor woman waiting long enough. Go and make amends. Or let the woman find her own happiness,” Laurance urged, giving John a small push.
Laurance was right. There was no better time than the present to make amends.
But then he saw the Marquess of Beaumont lean down to whisper in Annette’s ear.
John clenched his fists at his side, wondering what Alistair could possibly be saying to the woman whose face suddenly became as radiant as the sun.
He couldn’t fight his jealousy anymore. John had had enough and decided he would set the matter straight between the lady and himself once and for all.
He excused himself from Laurance and carefully made his way across the room, stopping a servant to take two crystal flutes of champagne while he advanced upon Annette. When he stood before her, he held out one of the glasses which she accepted with a nod before addressing the man next to her.
“You’ll excuse us, Alistair,” John said familiarly while keeping his gaze completely upon the lady whose own eyes went wide. This wasn’t a question but a demand he hoped the man would take.
An amused chuckle left Beaumont. “As you wish… Your Grace,” Alistair said with a smirk before taking his leave. John observed Alistair when he went directly to his sister, knowing another conversation would be needed very soon.
“Did you wish to talk about something, Your Grace?’ Annette asked entirely too sweetly to his ears. She lifted her glass to her lips while watching him with amusement over the rim.
He saw that several guests staring at them.
“Not here. Come with me,” he ordered as he took her glass and his, placing them on a tray a servant held before they left the crowded room and went out onto the balcony.
Still noticing several curious people who followed them, he took her arm and escorted her down the marble stairs until they stood near a fountain in the garden.
He sensed everything about her even as he faced the marble statue with bubbling water at its base.
He tried to get his emotions in check but found it difficult as jealousy once again consumed him.
“What’s wrong, John?” she asked quietly, and the sound of his name coming from her lips was almost more than he could bear.
He whirled around to face her, taking hold of her arm. “What is Alistair to you?” he managed to mutter through clenched teeth.
She seemed taken aback and rightfully so, since he still no longer had a claim to her. “Why does it matter to you what my relationship is with Alistair?”
“So, you are in a relationship with him?” he demanded.
Her eyes narrowed until that pretty little mouth of hers crept up at the corners in an amused smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”
A grunt left him as he folded his arms over his chest. “I am not jealous.”
She took a step closer as she looked him up and down before tapping his chest with one finger. “Your demeanor tells me differently, but you’ve also piqued my curiosity. Why would you be jealous of Alistair if you’re not interested in me, John?”
He cleared his throat. “I am concerned for your reputation and am only watching out for you.”
“I have my brother who is capable of performing such a duty.” She took another step forward. “Why are you jealous of Alistair?”
He pulled her closer and her hands came to rest on his chest. “Stop saying his name as if you’ve reached an understanding. I don’t like it.”
“He has been as much of a friend to me all these years as he has been to you and Clara. Why, even you address the Duke of Stonehaven by his given name. Why shouldn’t I do the same for Alistair, and more importantly, why don’t you like it when I call him by his given name?”
“Because you’re mine!” He snapped and watched when she appeared as shocked by his words as he was by confessing them aloud.
“You have a funny way of proving such a claim, Your Grace,” she said quietly and with good cause.
After all, he had not told her that his feelings had changed.
But he could see for himself that she would not let the matter rest until he’d confided his innermost thoughts.
“I was not aware that you wanted to renew our past commitment, especially considering you brought another woman to your sister’s house party. ”
“Let’s not bring Lady Torshell into this. And call me by my given name, for heaven’s sake,” he grumbled. “If you can be so familiar with Marquess of Beaumont, then you can certainly do the same for me. You’ve known me longer.”
She tilted her head to one side to study him. “I find it hard not to bring her into this conversation, considering the woman has been hanging on to you at every available moment. Look, we even needed to move to the garden to escape her.”
“I admit brining her to the party was a mistake,” he confessed.
She gave a brief nod. “Then when did you plan to tell me you changed your mind about… us?” she asked as she took hold of the edges of his jacket when he brought her even closer while his arms wrapped around her waist.
Her breathing elevated so he could see for himself she was just as affected as he was while being held in his arms. She did still care for him, and he had been a fool not to have noticed before now.
“Perhaps I only waited for the perfect moment to redeem myself and my honor,” he whispered before lowering his lips to meet hers.
He didn’t want to rush her and as he gave small pecks at her lips, he tried to patiently wait to see if she might respond.
She clenched the fabric of his jacket more tightly and leaned into him to tilt her head to meet his mouth with a soft moan.
He had been right. She did still care for him and perhaps he hadn’t lost her after all.
He deepened their kiss and he swore no woman would ever replace Annette in his heart nor would he be a fool to allow his stupid pride to get in the way of their happiness.
He kept one hand onto her waist while the other moved to that fiery red hair that had tantalized him from afar for over the past two years.
He would ensure that he told her exactly how he felt as soon as he was done exploring those lips he had dreamed about for so long.
“Your Grace! How could you kiss another woman when you told me to meet you here?” The accusatory voice quickly broke him and Annette apart as they turned to see none other than Lady Torshell standing there with her hands on her hips.
Annette turned to him and appeared furious, her swollen red lips that he only wished to continue kissing. “You were to meet with her here?” she asked narrowing her eyes.
“Of course he was. Why else would I be out here alone in the dark?” Jemima said before she patted her hair as if a strand was out of place. “You really should have planned this more carefully, Your Grace. Stealing kisses from two different women… that really is in bad taste.”
“Annette… I didn’t plan to meet her here,” he began while the lady advanced on him.
“She is right, Your Grace, having us both here really is in bad taste,” she fumed before she shoved her hands onto his chest and gave a mighty push.
His feet flew out from beneath him when he met the edge of the fountain and he fell back into the water. He came up sputtering and half drowned to see Annette lifting her head in satisfaction just before she left.
“Your Grace!” Jemima called, running to the edge of the fountain to hold out her hands. “Let me help you.”
“I can take care of myself. Please excuse me, Lady Torshell,” he said, pushing himself to his feet before lifting one waterlogged foot and then the other over the rim of the fountain.
Making his way toward the back entrance of the manor, dripping and with his boots squelching with each step, he saw Stonehaven outside getting a breath of fresh air.
He thought about ducking behind a shrub, but it was too late.
Laurance had spotted him. After a short exhale of surprise, his friend burst into hearty laughter.
“Should I even ask?” Laurance asked after he’d managed to contain himself.
“No,” John snapped as he walked past his friend.
“If it makes any difference and if you recall, I also had a dunking by a certain young lady who later became my duchess. It might be a sign for you that all might work out in the end,” Stonehaven said brightly. “Should we place a bet?”
“Sod off,” he cursed before halting in his tracks as he recalled the wager they’d made years ago.
His heart lurched in his chest. Maybe Laurance was correct, and everything might turn around to his benefit.
He would need to make amends to the fair Lady Saxton in the morning.
He didn’t wish for any further misunderstandings to stand between them.