In the Garden of Disgrace (34 page)

Outside the bedchamber a disturbance in the
hall arrested Jillian in motion. She heard what sounded like a
large body hitting the wall, and suddenly she remembered Riley.
Dear Lord,
if that brute joined the fray, she didn’t have a
chance.

Her glance flew to Lionel, who had slipped
from the mattress to the floor still holding his head, but he
appeared to be recovering. He looked up, his gaze filled with
venom.

“I’ll make you pay for that,” he said,
coming to his feet on legs that appeared to wobble. “You could have
enjoyed yourself, you know. But now we’ll play it your way.”

It had grown quiet in the hall, and she
wanted desperately to look over her shoulder at the door which hung
slightly ajar, but she was afraid to take her eyes from the
marquess. Jillian gripped the candlestick more firmly in hands now
slick with nervous perspiration, holding it like a club.

“Perhaps you will win in the end, Lionel,
but I swear you will suffer before you celebrate.”

He opened his mouth to respond but his gaze
was drawn to something or—more horrific—someone at her back.
Jillian’s heart lurched with dread. It must be Riley.

“I raced here like the perennial white
knight to save the damsel in distress, but it would appear that
damsel is quite capable of taking care of herself.”

Adrian!

Jillian whirled around, overcome with
relief. When she did, she allowed her hands still grasping her
improvised weapon to fall, and the weight of the heavy candlestick
brought her arms down so quickly she staggered.

The earl was leaning casually in the
doorway, radiating an air of quiet menace. Jillian moved toward him
but Adrian’s gaze was riveted on Lionel.

“How did you get in here?” Lionel
spluttered, clearly upset by the sudden change in events. “What did
you do to my man?”

“One question at a time, Edgeworth,” Adrian
said, the words deceptively cool. “I came in the front door
because, believe it or not, it was unlocked. I would have rung, but
under the circumstances that seemed inadvisable. As to your man, I
admit he is large with the strength of a bull, but some fights are
better won with finesse. That is where ‘your man’ fails.”

Lionel’s gaze skittered about the room,
looking for escape. He had begun to sweat, and his hand shook when
he ran his fingers through his hair.

“All right, Wickham, you are the victor. I
admit defeat.” His regard glanced off Jillian. “These last hours
have convinced me that the lady and I do not, as she has insisted,
have anything in common. Please take her off and we’ll let the
matter drop.”

Such patent cowardice caused Jillian to
stare at the marquess with distaste. She took a quick check of
Adrian’s features and found her reaction reflected on his face. His
lips curled contemptuously.

“Let me see if I understand you,” the earl
said, standing away from the door. In that instant Jillian realized
he was in a deep rage although his features remained bland. “You’ll
allow me to take Jillian away and all will be forgiven and
forgotten. Is that correct?”

“It is the easiest way, isn’t it? We don’t
wish to start tongues wagging,” the marquess said. “Jillian is the
one who will suffer most.”

“You bring my future wife to this house
where you entertain your paramours,” Adrian’s voice cracked across
the predawn gloom like a whip, “and you expect me to believe you
care about gossip, especially gossip that will hurt Jillian? Are
you implying, because of the chance of talk, I’m to pretend all is
well? I’m afraid it won’t be that easy.”

Lionel sagged against the bedpost. “What do
you suggest?”

“Name your seconds, Edgeworth.”

Jillian gasped. “Adrian, no!”

Both men looked in her direction, Lionel’s
expression one of outright terror and the earl’s coldly implacable.
Adrian returned his attention to his opponent apparently unmoved by
her outburst.

“Well?” he said.

The marquess, white around the mouth,
squared his shoulders, appearing resigned to his fate. He could not
refuse the challenge, Jillian knew, and still call himself
honorable. Strange how a man could act with such vile deceit as he
had when he kidnapped her, yet feel bound by the rules of conduct
assigned to a gentleman.

“I must make preparations,” the marquess
said.

“How long?”

“This afternoon?”

Adrian nodded curtly. “I will send Phillip
Angsley here before the supper hour to meet with your people.” He
turned to Jillian, taking her hand. At the door, he said, “Tomorrow
morning, Edgeworth. Fail to show and I’ll find you. This will be
settled between us one way or the other.”

Jillian’s last glimpse of the marquess as
she left the room revealed a man on the verge of collapse.
Evidently, Lionel was only stouthearted when he did not fear for
his own skin.

They entered the hall, stepping around
Riley’s large body where he had fallen after tangling with the
earl. She wanted to ask what had happened but Adrian’s grim
expression did not encourage discourse. They descended the stairs
to the entry and walked out the front entrance of Lionel’s illicit
hideaway.

As they reached the curb she recognized
Phillip’s phaeton. The earl helped her into the vehicle then
climbed in himself, but his stony attitude did not ease. With a
fierce snap of the reins he sent the carriage into the lane.

Though the last remains of the night still
lingered, dawn was fast approaching, the sun pinking the horizon to
announce its arrival. The morning felt cool and damp, and Jillian
wrapped her arms around herself, as much to ward off the chill of
the man next to her as the chill in the air. Abruptly, she realized
they were not headed back into town.

“Where are we going, my lord?”

“Adrian.”

“What?”

“Call me Adrian. I’ve had enough of your
efforts to keep me at bay. ‘My lord’ is impersonal and I don’t like
it.”

Jillian slid a glance at him. Oh, he was
furious, so furious the heat of his displeasure singed her where
she sat.

“Where are we going, Adrian?” she asked in a
small voice.

He snapped the reins again, not sparing her
a look. “It will be light soon. Can you imagine the uproar that
will ensue should I be seen bringing you home at this hour of the
day? I don’t want to take the risk of exposing you to more
talk.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that.

“There is a small inn down this road.
Hopefully, the dark will continue until I can get you ensconced in
one of the rooms. You’ll be safe there until Phillip comes back for
you later this evening.”

“This isn’t my fault, Adrian.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

He did look at her then. “How could you let
that fool bastard talk you into leaving the townhouse? Surely you
went with him of your own will, or your maid would have heard the
commotion. To make matters worse, no one was available to tell us
who your visitor was.”

“Hannah?”

“Had been told you were entertaining
someone. Your footman failed to mention who that someone was before
he left. But that’s neither here nor there—why did you go with
Edgeworth?”

“He said Meredith wanted to see me. I-I
thought him sincere. I mean, why should I not?”

“Bah!” He shook his head, not hiding his
contempt for her reasoning. “I’ve known Edgeworth since university,
and in all that time he has never given me reason to believe he can
be trusted. His actions lately should have warned you.”

He had a point.

“Tell me,” Adrian continued, “what did I
interrupt back there? It appeared that you were the one with the
upper hand.”

“I boxed his ears.”

“What?” He barked a laugh. “How did you
manage that?”

“I’m not certain if you must know. He made
me mad and I retaliated.”

“What did he do?”

“He kissed me.”

The earl’s expression sobered. “Did he…? Was
that the extent of it?”

She knew what he asked. “Yes,” she said
curtly, refusing to elaborate.

They rode in silence after that, shortly
pulling into the deserted yard of a small inn. The earl yanked on
the ribbons to halt the horses then handed the leather straps to
Jillian as he climbed from his seat.

“I’ll be back shortly. Stay where you are,”
he said and jogged across the yard and into the building.

Even though the only activity Jillian could
see came from the stable some fifty yards away, she still felt
conspicuous sitting in the phaeton all alone. She kept her head
down, not looking up when another vehicle pulled onto the pebbled
drive.

As he had promised Adrian was gone only
briefly. He reappeared at the side of the carriage, his voice low.
“Here, put this on your head.” He handed her a knitted wool
shawl.

“How did you obtain that?”

“Money, dear heart—how do you think?”

“That doesn’t say from whom you bought it,”
she muttered, not pleased at having to don the grubby-looking
shawl.

“Come on, come on,” he said, “it is almost
light.”

Jillian did as he asked, and the earl helped
her from the carriage. He put his arm around her, spiriting her
through the yard and into the inn, then took her directly up the
stairs without speaking to anyone.

The earl led her to the chamber at the end
of the narrow corridor and, slipping the lock with a key he
produced from his pocket, pushed her into the tiny space. He came
behind her and closed the door.

A lumpy bed, a night stand and one
dilapidated chest of drawers made up the furnishings. Jillian
walked to the window before turning around to face her companion.
Adrian gazed back at her from where he leaned against the door,
although he did not appear as peeved as he had earlier.

Since leaving Lionel’s home Jillian had been
struggling with one worry, and it wasn’t her fear of being caught
in another disgrace. The earl had challenged Lord Edgeworth to a
duel. Somehow she must dissuade him from such a disastrous
course.

“Adrian, I would ask a favor of you.”

His brows lowered ominously. “The last time
you said that to me, I’d have sworn you wielded a dagger rather
than your tongue. Your favors tend to leave scars.”

Jillian felt her cheeks warm with regret. If
an admission now would aid her cause then the sacrifice of her
pride was worth it. In fact, she began to wonder why that
sacrifice—in the face of what she had to gain—had ever
mattered.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was an
out and out lie. Even though it is an insane thing for an unmarried
lady to wish, I hoped for a child—your child.”

His features softened instantly. “What is
it, love?” he asked. “What do you want me to do?”

“Cancel your duel with Lionel.”

Adrian shook his head. “I can’t do that,
Jillian.”

“Why?”

“It is not negotiable,” he said, his voice
becoming hard.

“But if I can allow the matter to drop, why
can’t you? I am after all the one who was insulted.”

“It doesn’t happen that way.”

“But you haven’t said why.”

The earl reached for the doorknob, clearly
unwilling to continue the discussion. “Phillip will return after
dark. I’m sorry you must stay here alone all day but we have no
choice.”

All at once Jillian was seized by panic. If
he left now there was no hope. “Adrian,” she said, moving toward
him.

“Yes?” He turned to look at her, but she
could not tell what he was thinking as he watched her through light
blue eyes.

“Please…please, don’t leave just yet.”

He went immobile, staring at her for so long
her heart began to rattle oddly.

“Now I must ask you why,” he murmured.

Though she feared her courage might fail
her, she forced herself to walk across the room, holding the earl’s
mesmerizing gaze as she came toward him. When she was but a few
inches away, she raised cool fingers to brush his jaw. His skin
felt hot, the stubble of his course black beard rough beneath her
touch, proof positive he had not bothered with mundane matters like
shaving when he believed her in danger.

Still his gaze did not shift from hers, and
her nervous heart surged with something new, something only now she
could freely admit.

“Kiss me, Adrian,” she whispered.

His sensuous mouth curved into a smile of
delight. “If I do,” the words deepened to a husky rumble, “I can’t
be held responsible for the consequences.”

“And if you don’t I shall be disappointed,
for it is the consequences that tempt me.” She grabbed hold of the
lapels of his coat, and pulled him down to her.

She could see the minute he understood, for
his eyes ignited with anticipation. “Ah, Jillian…” he ground out
and, gathering her into his embrace, he took her lips.

His beard burned her chin, her cheeks as he
kissed her, but Jillian relished the feeling. She kept her grip on
his coat, afraid to let go for fear he might withdraw, meeting his
onslaught with an aggression of her own.

She felt his fingers at her back,
unfastening her hooks. He slid his hands inside the opening he
created, and she aided his impatient efforts, shrugging out of the
frock. They undressed in a frenzy, flinging their garments this way
and that until the floor was littered with clothing.

Now both naked, he enveloped her in his arms
as he found her mouth again. Edging toward the bed, he dragged her
with him then fell backwards onto the mattress, pulling her on top
of him lengthwise. Jillian came up on her elbows to look down at
him, causing her breasts to float just above his face. The
temptation must have been too much, for Adrian lifted his head,
taking one of the pink tips in his mouth. He sucked hungrily.
Exquisite sensation burst in her belly, and she moaned deep in her
throat.