Love Reclaimed (8 page)

As much as it foiled her plans, his pleasure-seeking side turned her on and made her love him that much more. Double damn. Her ability to deny the truth increased in difficulty after the respective displays, each more decadent than the last. However, what they shared did not mean she wouldn’t continue her campaign to get him married to a proper heiress. He needed someone who could bear him a child, whether he knew it or not. But, what it did mean is she would have to be prepared for the inevitable pain when he left.

Sometime in the early dawn, before the first pale streaks colored the sky, she roused him. “Heart, you should go now before anyone is about on the street.”

“Must I?” His words were garbled by sleep.

She shook him awake. “Yes, dearest. You must leave before anyone can see you. Please. I will see you again in a few days.”

“All right then.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes to clear the fog of sleep. At a painstaking pace, he dressed and then kissed her good night. Alone, she returned to bed where she pretended she wasn’t lost and her heart wasn’t aching for the one man she could never have.

***

Jonathan arrived home and retreated to bed. To his great dismay, his butler awakened him in short order.

“My Lord, Miss Felicia Blackstone is downstairs with Sir and Lady Blackstone. They demand to speak with you immediately.”

Eyelids like sandpaper scraped open and closed as he blinked to clear the dregs of sleep. “Tell them I will be down directly. By the way, what time is it?”

“It is eight o’clock in the morning, my Lord. I will bring tea and coffee to the salon for your guests.” The stoic butler bowed and departed.

Damned lucky to have such an unflappable and competent butler since it appeared his own wits had deserted him. What did Blackstone want at this bloody hour? They weren’t supposed to meet until next week for the formal signing of the contracts. He’d put the betrothal off a bit so he could spend more time with Marie before he had to decide things one way or another. He held on to the tenuous thread of hope he might still convince her to marry him, so he could escape the loveless marriage he had begun to arrange. Besides, it was deuced early for a social call, even by his future bride and her family. Standing he set about cleaning up and getting dressed. Fifteen minutes later, he stood at the entrance of his front salon.

“Good morning, Miss Blackstone, Sir and Lady Blackstone.” He greeted them and then seeing they each held tea poured himself a stiff cup of coffee. No cream. No sugar. He needed the bitter brew to get his wheels turning and fast because the lack of a smiling faces in the room did not bode well.

“Let’s skip the false pleasantries. We are here to find out the veracity of the news that you have been traipsing around town with a notorious madam. I understood you were a widower who had been faithful to his wife and now sought a new woman to bear your children and set up a home with you. What is the meaning of this rakish behavior?” Sir Blackstone had turned red as his jowls flapped during his impassioned speech.

Jonathan cringed inside. Blast it. He sighed, seeing no way around the issue. “I take full responsibility for the situation. I believed myself ready to settle down, but it seems I am not. Please accept my profound apologies. Miss Blackstone, I understand if you feel the need to sever our acquaintance publicly in any way you see fit. I am quite prepared to take the brunt of whatever public censure you and your family feel is warranted. I had not intended to hurt you.” He bowed to the lady who, while not smiling, held no anger in her eyes.

“Thank you, my Lord. I am sure you understand if I no longer speak to you publicly.” She rose from the settee and nodded to her parents.

“Felicia, stop where you are.” Sir Blackstone demanded as his daughter reached the salon door. “This is not finished. This man led you on and then behaved abominably. He has shamed you and this family.”

“Oh, Father. Do shut up. I never wanted Lord Heartfield’s attentions. You were the one currying his favor. I consider this an important lesson learned. I will marry for love from here forward. I want a man who loves me, quirky interests and all. Neither you nor mother will bully me into a loveless marriage again.” Back ramrod straight, Felicia Blackstone strode from his salon and left her stunned parents gaping in her wake.

For a brief moment Jonathan again considered there might in fact be more to the woman he had courted than initial perception allowed. She would have made a superior baroness between her intellect and her spirit, but she could never be Marie. “If you will excuse me, I believe your cloaks will be waiting for you at the door.” He bowed and departed the room. He had to find Marie and make her understand his intentions in no uncertain terms.

Chapter Six

Jonathan retreated to his bedroom and considered his options. How much longer should he play Marie’s game? Grateful the sham of a courtship had ended, the time had come to convince Marie they belonged together. She belonged to him. He’d lost her once, but not again. He would reclaim the woman he had always loved.

Glancing at the clock, he cursed the uncivilized hour that made it far too early for a visit. A gallop in the park would clear his head before he made his argument to Marie. After a bruising ride along the quieter paths in Hyde Park, he sat down to a light luncheon since he’d missed breakfast.

Still working out his argument in his head, he made his way to the familial safe and retrieved the Heartfield Emerald. A stunning green stone surrounded by tiny table-cut diamonds it had belonged to his grandmother and then his mother. The family ring had always been presented to a beloved Heartfield bride.

His wife had never worn the ring.

Tucking the jewel into his pocket, he dashed downstairs and out to the stable to saddle his horse. Within the hour, he found himself tossing the reins to one of the stable boys behind The Market and slipped in the rear entrance. Karen bustled down the back hall loaded down with a basket; he stopped her. “Where is your mistress?”

“In the main salon with some of the ladies of the house.” She bobbed a curtsy and scurried away.

Jonathan smiled and made his way to where the women gathered. There he found a bevy of beauties in various states of undress lounging and chatting over tea. Marie sat regally amidst the women, wearing a simple day dress in a shade of pale green that reminded him of the girl he’d once known.

She rose and crossed to where he hovered just inside the room. “Heart, what are you doing here at this hour?”

“I needed to speak with you, and I felt certain if I sent a note, you would refuse to see me in the light of day.” He couldn’t control the smile tugging at his lips. She was beautiful.

“Of course, I would. You will ruin yourself being seen here. What of your potential bride? How would she feel to learn you were seen here? We have discussed this before.” She ushered him into her office even as she scolded him.

“I have no fiancée.”

“Well, not yet, but you will be asking for her hand soon.” She sat in one of the chairs near the fire.

“I will not—”

“Oh, Heart! Stop this instant. You agreed to pursue her if I signed the contract.”

“Let me finish. I did pursue her, but she learned of the masquerade and became dissatisfied with the idea of marrying me. She chose to end our courtship.” He raised a shoulder indicating the decision had been made.

Marie shot to her feet. “I knew this would happen. It was pure folly to think we could hide the time we spent together.” She paced, wringing her hands and chewing her lip in apparent consternation.

He stepped in front of her, bracing her shoulders with his hands as he ended her forward motion. “Marie, I have no interest in a young girl for a wife. I have room in my heart for one woman. I knew her once long ago, and I have been fortunate enough to have a second chance at making her mine. You are the woman I want, the only woman who can make me happy.”

“Please, don’t.” Her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes, making them sparkle like the rarest gemstones.

His chest constricted until he couldn’t draw breath knowing what she would say next. Despite his knowledge, her next words struck like a lance to his heart.

“We can never be. The girl you loved does not exist any longer. The woman you see now is older, wiser, and, I’m sorry to say, too world-weary to believe in love. It is too late for what could have been, but you have a chance at your future. You have a chance to ensure your family line and perhaps even snatch a small bit of happiness from the reminder of your life.” A single tear slipped from her eye, leaving a wet track down her cheek.

“Why? Why can we never be? Why can’t I find happiness with you?” Jonathan’s world crumbled around him with naught he could do to stop it.

Her face hardened, her eyes turning to chips of green ice. “I’m sorry. I should never have agreed to the contract with you. I had hoped you would see how inappropriate I am for a wife. I do not remember my genteel education including the arts of cock sucking, ménage à trois, or cunnilingus. I am quite certain husbands do not fuck their wives’ asses, nor do they share them with other women. Consider our contract severed. Your payment will be returned as soon as I can arrange it. And I think it goes without saying you will not be welcomed in this establishment as long as I am the owner. Good day, my Lord.”

A wash of heat smothered Jonathan as he stared at the woman who retreated to her desk and shuffled paperwork with a disturbing calm. Desire, stoked by the images painted with her raw words, warred with anger at her rejection. Together they bolstered his determination. He would have her. Beating a strategic retreat, he departed The Market without another word.

With the soft
click
of the door closing, Marie surrendered to the despair that had eroded her self-control during the conversation with Heart.

She loved him but knew she shouldn’t.

She loved him but could not change a hard-learned lesson. Men were never there when she needed them, and to count on them only led to further humiliation and betrayal.

Whether in a public display, such as an auction, or a more private experience such as heartbreak, the end result never changed. The Market was real, solid, and a dependable source of income. Without that security she might find herself once again humiliated and betrayed, left to her own ends. Frankly, she didn’t have enough spirit left to rebuild if Heart married her and then decided he’d made a mistake.

His desertion would be a killing blow and a risk she wouldn’t take, no matter how bad she wished she could. As long as she remained unmarried, The Market belonged to her. With her security assured, the future, though bleak, would be steady and predictable.

Resigned, she dashed a note off to her bank directing Heart’s funds be returned immediately. They had been sitting in an account waiting for her to decide what to do with them. Keeping the money had never been an option, but she had not figured out how to convince him to take it back either.

Tears blurring her vision, she retreated to her room and allowed her misery free rein. She’d allow this short period of mourning for what was and what could have been, and then it would be over. She would have to tuck it all away deep inside and forget about him.

***

Jonathan let the anger and hurt of her rejection cloud his thinking. So much so, he departed by the front door and walked halfway home before he remembered his mount. He jammed his fingers through his hair and cursed. For a brief moment, he grappled with the overwhelming desire to go back to The Market and paddle Marie’s bottom for her stubbornness. Then he wanted to do all the naughty things with her she spoke of and more. With a groan, he turned around and returned in her direction. He wouldn’t go back in just yet. He swore he merely intended to collect his horse.

Around the corner from The Market, two rather disreputable-looking men approached him. The taller of the two, had on trousers stopping well short of his ankles and a ratty-looking, threadbare shirt. The shorter man dressed as shabbily as his partner, but with no socks.

Jonathan made to move around them after realizing not another soul could be seen in the immediate vicinity. “Excuse me.”

“I don’t think so. A bloke like you ought to have a bit of blunt on him,” the short one said, his tone almost affable.

The barrel of a revolver poked Jonathan’s stomach, emphasizing their point. With a resigned sigh, he pulled out his wallet and retrieved the bank notes he had tucked inside. “There, that’s nearly twenty pounds to split between the two of you. Now out of my way.”

“Not so fast there. What else you got in those pockets?” The hammer cocked, a loud
click
in the sudden silence.

Jonathan made a mental catalog of what he carried. He pulled his pocket watch from his vest and yanked the chain, freeing it from his vest. “Here.” He reached in his pants pockets and pulled out the empty linings. “See. You have everything of value.”

The short one took the watch and then shifted as though reaching for Jonathan’s coat pockets. Losing the ring he would give to Marie was not acceptable. Without a second thought, he knocked the gun away from him and punched the shorter man. As he turned around to deal with the taller one, he heard the loud
pop
of the revolver. A searing pain sliced across his left shoulder.

The taller thief paled and backed up. “I didn’t mean to shoot you. Please, sir, I swear it were an accident.” And then he dropped the revolver and ran. By the time Jonathan could gather his wits enough to check on the shorter man, he had disappeared.

The throb in his shoulder drew his awareness to the hole in the sleeve of his coat. Somehow still on his feet, he took a stumbling step forward and managed to avert collapse. His heart raced while pain sizzled along his arm clouding his ability to think.

A few more steps forward and he found a railing to lean on. He wasn’t far from The Market. If he could make it there, then someone would help him. It seemed to take forever to reach the familiar building. The few steps up to the door almost defeated him, but with a final surge of energy he pushed past the pain and reached the door. Pounding on the solid surface with his good fist, he continued beating on it until it seemed to disappear. His body gave out and he collapsed into a faceless pair of arms.