A Secret Passion (24 page)

In the half-light, he faced her and looked down into her eyes. Waves of light danced on his face, illuminating the pale silver irises of his eyes. A damp mist clung to his black hair. He dropped her hand and smoothed her hair with his palm.

Jane’s heart skipped a beat while she stared up at his rugged, dark face. She could hardly breathe as she noticed the taut muscles of his cheek. The confined space suffocated her and robbed her of her senses.

His head dipped forward to within inches of her lips. He hesitated. Then his hand reached to cup her neck as he brought his lips to hers. His tall, powerful frame engulfed her.

She did not resist at all. In the great silence of the grotto all that could be heard was their echoed strained breathing and the far-off roar of the waves breaking. Jane lifted her arms around Rolfe’s massive shoulders and drank in his kiss like a lost soul finding solace at an oasis in the desert. His essence permeated her senses. He smelled of soap, salt air, and a cologne she had only ever noticed on his person. The whorls of his fingertips teased her earlobe, and she shivered. She did not care what he would think She was leaving, and this was to be her good-bye.

She was attracted to him, without a doubt, but he was not for her. She struggled to remind herself that he was too domineering, too demanding, and altogether too vexing. Most of all, she forced herself to remember, he certainly did not love her. He needed a docile woman who would mold herself to his autocratic ways. Jane would never allow herself to be controlled by anyone again.

Rolfe brushed aside the black lace covering the front of her mourning gown and trailed kisses from her neck to the delicate skin touching the lace. Without thinking of what he did, she found he had untied her sash and unbuttoned her back buttons to push down her gown. Jane’s breath surged from her as the earl lowered his lips to the tips of her breasts. He kissed one breast, then took the other between his lips. Jane felt a hard, tugging sensation in her womb and between her legs when she pulled him closer. His arousal strained against his breeches as her hand brushed his thighs and finally pushed at his chest.

“This mustn’t go any further, please,” she mumbled. He kissed her gently while he arranged the gown back in place. His eyelids were heavy when he faced her now. “Yes, you are quite right. What must have I been thinking?” he said.

He turned her around and rebuttoned her gown. He retied her sash, but made the loops far too big. Jane’s most private places were throbbing with desire, and she placed her fingertips to her temples to try and bring herself under control. Her hands instinctively went to her pockets when she lowered them to face the earl. The cold, hard outline of his ring reminded her of the last act she must perform before leaving with Harry.

“I must return this to you,” she said, withdrawing the ring from her gown. The bloodstone looked black in the dim cave.

“Ah, my ring. I had forgotten.”

He cradled her delicate hand in his larger one and closed her fingers over the ring. She looked at him with bewilderment.

“It is my hope you will keep it, Jane. Before you say no. I hope you will listen to my reasons,” he said. She did not protest, so he continued. “You have refused my hand, my name, my protection, and my help. I will take a small measure of comfort knowing you have this one last possession of mine. Use it to send for me if you are ever in need. I could not bear to ever think of you in desperate want. You can seal a letter to me and I will come at once. Or you could sell it. But I don’t want it back.”

Jane looked at the faintly visible etching of the knight and dragon on the ring and then turned her gaze to him. “As you wish, I shall keep it. But I shan’t sell it. Never that.” It was the first time she had ever acquiesced to a request of the earl’s. She wondered if he would plead his case one more time, to insist that she go away with him rather than with Harry, to kiss her until she relented, but his expression bespoke a negative answer.

He released her hands. “Thank you,” he answered. He moved past her and felt along the passage walls back to the harsh, bright outside world. He did not offer the guidance of his hand to her again.

When Jane and Graystock returned, the group was at work, repacking all the food remains in the wicker baskets and folding blankets. William was putting everything into the storage area on the Fairchilds’ carriage.

At the end of the carriage ride from Pembroke, Miss Dodderidge had given up all matrimonial hopes of securing thirty thousand a year from the earl, for while she was an insipid girl, her primary nature was quite practical. Worse yet, she had been unable to attract even a single glance from Theodore Fairchild during the course of the afternoon.

As her departure from Cornwall approached at an alarming rate, she had decided on the moment, while in the grotto, to fix the interest of Harry Thompson without dangling after the other impossibilities. He was the only one who showed any promise, she decided with resignation. She was sure his family was good for at least five hundred a year, given the size of the living.

And his family did boast of an ancient connection to the aristocracy. A third cousin four times removed or so. Her coal merchant father would be impressed if she could attract a gentleman, even a poor one. And he really did give her butterflies in her stomach. No one had ever done that to her, no matter how determined she had been at flirting with her victims. She retied the bow of her hat under her chin when she saw everyone moving to their respective carriages. The loss of thirty thousand a year was really too bad, she thought, as she eyed the earl. But then again, her insides jumped when she moved to Harry. He really was divine, even though he was poorer than a church mouse.

She sighed and walked toward Clarissa Fairchild to detain her. Perhaps she could switch places with the aunt on the ride back? Miss Fairchild arched her brow and gazed at her.

“I think not,” Miss Fairchild said firmly. “As a matter of fact, I had hoped to have a conversation with you and Fanny during the ride home. Would you mind if I joined your group?”

“But Fanny and I could join your carriage.”

Harry turned around from the back of the equipage. “Ah, but that would ruin our plan,” he said to her with a wicked grin.

“Oh, I just love plans. What plan is that? I insist on being included,” Miss Dodderidge said petulantly.

Jane, seated in the carriage, sighed and closed her eyes, too weary to play her part. Harry glanced at her, winked, and turned to Clarissa.

“I shall tell you all about it, my dear, in the other carriage,” Clarissa said. “It is a secret we can rely on you to keep safe. But you must depart with me now.”

Miss Dodderidge looked first at Harry, then at Clarissa, and finally at Jane. She stomped her foot just the smallest bit and addressed Harry. “All of you are in the know except me. It is most unfair, I insist on hearing what is going on this instant, Harry--er--Mr. Thompson.”

Harry raised her hand to his lips with a flourish and kissed it. “Miss Fairchild will explain it all on the ride home, my dear,” Harry said.

Miss Dodderidge lifted her chin a notch higher and flounced off in a huff, mumbling something about rudeness.

At the last moment, Clarissa reached for Jane’s hand and stroked it. She looked as if she would begin to cry if she uttered a single word. Jane squeezed her aunt’s hand and whispered, “I will miss you so,” before Harry pulled himself into the seat and urged the horses toward Graystock’s coach.

No one remaining on the ground knew how to say good-bye to Lord Graystock, who looked as unapproachable as always. But he entered his large ducal coach before the others could find their manners and their tongues. A brief raise of his arm and a nod from the shadowed window was all they saw. Jane turned in the opposite direction and fiddled with her reticule.

The overcrowded Fairchild carriage took the lead and veered westward after a mile or so down the sandy track. Graystock’s coach continued northbound, followed by Harry and Jane. The excellence of the earl’s coach and horses allowed their inadequate conveyance to be outstripped within a few miles.

The air was heavy with moisture as they lumbered along. Harry’s brother had drawn back the stiff and misshapen bonnet of the carriage prior to their departure. Jane dusted off the cobwebs in the corners and shook the blankets off the side. She noticed that the padding under the cracked black leather seats had disintegrated a long time ago. She would be spending quite a few hours in this poorly sprung little cage, and she would feel better if it was a little cleaner. It also gave her something to do instead of worrying away the time.

But worry she did. It was funny, her mother had always told her to chase away any fears or worries, as they were useless, godless emotions. She had always obeyed her mother, but during the last month or so she had been unable to keep her worries at bay. Flipping the last daddy longlegs from the door, Jane peered into the little grove of pine trees bordering the road. She couldn’t even hear the clopping of the earl’s horses ahead anymore, and so she straightened her spine and finally faced forward. She looked at Harry’s bent form. His brown hair peeked out from under his hat, and he was chirping the team along. She drew in her breath and exhaled. Peace, glorious peace, at last.

There being but one inn in the ensuing thirty miles, Jane was unsurprised to find a groomsman polishing the shiny lacquer finish of the earl’s coach when she and Harry stopped just past dusk at the Two Swan Inn. Jane had had a growing suspicion that this might be the embarrassing end of her grueling first day toward Scotland. But there was no other place to retire for the night. Inquiries had proved that the next accommodations were thirty miles further, and the weather seemed uncertain. That distance was out of the question. Jane was sure Harry’s ankle throbbed, although he complained little. Her spirits sagged as low as the dusty brim of her bonnet. She was anxious, knowing her father had certainly been informed of their elopement by now. What if he came after her? She and Harry had discussed this possibility while driving and agreed to go at least sixty miles each following day, barring any accident.

The first growl of thunder emitted from the sky accompanied sparse, fat raindrops. Jane and Harry hurried into the inn to escape a drenching. The public space was filled to overflowing with revelers at tables, toasting the rain. A quick perusal brought a sigh of relief from Jane—the earl was nowhere to be seen. Harry returned from speaking to the innkeeper and escorted Jane to the last remaining table, jammed into a dark corner near a dirty, smallish window. Waving to a dour-faced serving wench, Harry ordered two portions of supper and ale. Jane shook her head, protesting the ale, but Harry stilled her.

“You will need it when you hear what I have to tell you.”

“What, pray tell?” asked Jane with her lips compressed.

“There are no rooms available.”

“Goodness, now what are we to do?” She paused, deep in thought. “Did you offer a greater sum of money?”

“Yes. It is not that,” he said loudly above the din. “What is it, then?” Jane inquired. “His lordship took the last room, an attic space usually reserved for the serving maid. Seems the earl was none too happy about the accommodations, but he reserved it nonetheless. And his servants have taken up all the space in the stables.”

“Well, we will just have to make do. We will have to stay at this table until first light.”

“Jane, I can’t bear this. It is unseemly for a lady to spend the night in a pub.”

“Yes, well, what are we to do? I will be fine, as you. I am more concerned about how we will stay awake tomorrow on the road after a night here.”

At a nearby table, two men who had imbibed too much began leering at Jane.

“Mate, w’d ya lookie here, a fancy lady and her gen’leman friend,” said the first.

“Dunno, friend. Methinks it’s not ‘er husband. Don’t see no ring,” joked the other. Several other tables of men broke into laughter.

Jane paled as Harry became flustered. She scanned the room and knew the scene would become worse rather than better.