Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (3 page)

“So you came to inspect me this evening?”

“You could put it that way.”

“What role did Lady Skye play in your decision?”

Jack answered that question with even less enthusiasm. “I was heading to an early-morning
curricle race recently when she planted herself in my vehicle and commandeered the
reins. Short of removing her bodily or forfeiting the race, I had no choice but to
promise to investigate you.”

A soft spurt of laughter escaped Miss Fortin. “Oh, no, you would not want to miss
a race,” she murmured. “Not a premiere member of the Four-in-Hand Club who is infamous
for his neck-or-nothing carriage races.”

The chit was teasing him, if not outright laughing at him, he decided. She continued
before he could respond in kind. “Lady Skye is known to be exceptionally persuasive,
but you surprise me, Lord Jack, allowing your cousin and your sister to browbeat you.”

“I was hardly browbeaten.”

“No? You barged your way into a private ball uninvited and stalked me here to my aunt’s
library because you wouldn’t stand up to them.”

“You do have a point,” he said in a wry drawl. “It is distinctly lowering. No self-respecting
chap allows his female relatives to orchestrate his amorous affairs.”

Her musical laughter rippled again, a sound so infectious that Jack chuckled himself.
“I admit, you are not what I expected, Miss Fortin.”

“What did you expect?”

“To be frank? A jellyfish with no spine.”

“Why?”

“Because
you
are letting yourself be browbeaten into an unwanted marriage to Dunmore.”

“Simply because I choose to honor my parents’ wishes, you think I have no spine?”

“You are set on marrying the duke, are you not? You are far too willing to do as your
parents tell you.”

She didn’t seem offended by his critique of her, however. Instead, she just smiled
that serene, faintly enigmatic smile of hers. “How can you make such judgments when
you know very little about me?”

He couldn’t dispute her on that question. And strangely he didn’t want to. In truth,
he wanted to know Sophie Fortin a great deal better.

“Perhaps you aren’t such a milksop after all,” he conceded.

Her eyes gleamed with humor. “I suppose I should thank you for the backhanded compliment.”

Such intelligent eyes, such warmth in them
, Jack thought.

“I confess,” she admitted, “you are not what I expected either. At least you make
a habit of appearing in unexpected places.”

“What places?”

“Besides my aunt’s masquerade tonight? The Arundel Home for Unwed Mothers, for one.”

It was his turn to be taken aback, although he kept his expression carefully neutral.
“What makes you think I appeared there?”

She hesitated. “Last winter, one of the maids in our employ fell in love with a scoundrel.
When she became
enceinte
, my parents dismissed her from our household without a character reference. I gave
Martha the funds to live at the Arundel Home until her baby was born. I was visiting
her one day this past April when I saw you there, meeting with the board of administrators.
Your presence was such a curious phenomenon, I made it my business to ask about you.
To my vast surprise, I learned you were a trustee and that you have contributed large
sums for the home’s operation.”

“I think you must have been misinformed,” Jack replied, fighting the urge to shift
uncomfortably in his seat.

She searched his face. “I don’t believe so. But I never did discover how you came
to be involved. What kind of rake supports a home for unwed mothers? Unless …”

Suddenly breaking off, she colored in evident embarrassment.

“Unless what?” he prodded, not unhappy to see her rendered speechless.

“Unless you fathered a child on one of those poor women,” she finished candidly.

“I did not father any of their children, I assure you. I am very careful in that regard.”

His own mother had borne him out of wedlock, although she hailed from a much different
class than the Arundel Home’s occupants. As a former bastard himself, Jack hadn’t
wanted to sire any by-blows, so he took precautions in all his love affairs.

“Then why would you become a trustee?” Miss Fortin asked.

Because it was a personal mission for him, supporting unwed mothers. Perhaps irrationally,
he had a deep-seated, quixotic need to aid women like his mother, who might find themselves
alone and helpless.

Yet he had no desire to make his personal crusade common knowledge. He’d never told
anyone about his commitment to the Arundel Home—not his relatives, not even Skye,
whom he was closest to among his family members.

Still, he had to tell Sophie Fortin something to satisfy her curiosity. “Like you,
I once knew someone who could have benefited from an institution like Arundel.”

She studied him for another long moment, then nodded as if coming to a conclusion
about him. When she next spoke, her tone had softened. “I think your generosity is
admirable.”

Jack shrugged. “It is nothing. I merely donate my race winnings to the Home.”

“Winnings that are undoubtedly significant, given your success at carriage racing.
And I suspect the women you help there do not consider your contributions ‘nothing.’ ”

“Well, pray keep your observations to yourself. No one outside of Arundel knows of
my involvement.”

Her quizzical look suggested she was trying to understand him. “You are definitely
a puzzle, Lord Jack. Why don’t you want anyone to know about your altruism?”

Because he kept his personal feelings private, even from his family. He didn’t open
up easily, especially not to sheltered young ladies who were practically strangers,
as Miss Fortin was.

But he deflected her question with a sardonic grin and an exaggeration. “Growing up
as the youngest male Wilde cousin, I had the devil of a time holding my own with my
brother and my cousin Quinn. They would have roasted me alive for such softness.”

In their youth, his adopted brother Ash and his cousin Quinn would have ragged him
mercilessly for any tender feelings toward the fair sex, although that was certainly
not the case now.

“Philanthropy is not considered a manly pursuit,” Jack added jokingly with a silent
apology to them both.

“I doubt anyone would ever think of you as a man-milliner, my lord. But your secret
is safe with me.”

The glimmer of laughter was back in her eyes, and Jack found himself caught again
by her spell as he studied his would-be Juliet.

She was a puzzle herself. At twenty years of age, Miss Fortin was supposed to be young,
naive, innocent.
Instead, she seemed astute, clever, and perceptive. She was definitely not spineless
or docile as he’d anticipated. And her frankness made him like her even more.

Which only compounded his dilemma. He’d planned to get her alone, then satisfy himself
that there was nothing to Kate’s mad theory and go on his way.

The trouble was, Sophie Fortin thoroughly and utterly intrigued him. Too damned much,
devil take her.

As the silence between them drew out, she suddenly seemed to grow aware of how intently
they were staring at each other.

Tearing her gaze from his, she bent and demurely donned her stocking, garter, and
slipper, then returned her attention to him.

“Thank you for your gallantry in tending to my wound, Lord Jack, but I must go.”

“Not so quickly, Miss Fortin. I mean to claim my kiss now.”

Her laughter faded, to be replaced by uncertainty.

“I need to be able to tell Skye and Kate that I succeeded,” he explained.

“I cannot kiss you.”

“You are not engaged to Dunmore yet, are you?”

“No.”

“Then what is the impediment?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then lifted again, but she offered no reply.

“Think of it as an experiment,” Jack urged when she kept silent. “I simply want to
test my sister’s hypothesis.”

A true statement, he rationalized. If Sophie Fortin
was easily frightened by kissing him, then she couldn’t possibly be his ideal mate.

When she remained unmoving, he leaned forward until her lips were close enough to
capture. He breathed in her sweet, feminine scent, then let his mouth caress hers
with a featherlight pressure.

She gave a soft gasp at that mere contact, while he turned instantly hard at her delectable
taste.

Jack drew back sharply. He’d known very few females who could arouse him so quickly,
which in itself was an ominous sign. The stark attraction was there between them,
without question.

Sophie had felt the same intense spark, too, he could tell, for she raised her fingers
to her lips, eyeing him in wonder.

After a long moment of silence, she cleared her throat. “Did you learn what you wished
to know?”

“Not in the least,” Jack replied, cursing mentally. Kissing her had left him even
more conflicted. There might be something to Kate’s bloody theory after all.

Sophie let out her breath slowly. “It makes no difference. There could never be a
match between us.” She sounded rather wistful.

“Why not?”

“The feud, for one thing.”

“I’ve always thought the feud to be rather silly.”

Sophie frowned at that. “My father certainly doesn’t consider it silly. It affected
his entire life in a most detrimental way.”

“In what way?”

“When his grandfather died, Papa’s line lost the barony. The terms of the letters
patent were peculiar. Inheritance went through the baron’s younger brothers
instead of his sons. Therefore, both the title and accompanying fortune passed to
Papa’s great-uncle rather than his father.”

“So he still holds a grudge after all this time? For a quarrel that dates back more
than half a century?”

“I fear so. He will never forgive your relatives for depriving him of his birthright.
And even if he could, he would never countenance a marital union between us when he
has his sights set on my marrying a duke.” She sighed. “I should return to the masquerade.
My family will wonder what has become of me.”

She rose from the couch, intent on leaving, but Jack stopped her by catching her hand.

“Don’t go yet.” The intensity in his tone surprised even him.

“I must.”

“At least allow me a better kiss.”

When she hesitated, he rose to his feet.

As he gazed down at her, those lovely blue eyes locked with his again and something
primitive arced between them.

Something heated and alive.

Shivering, she took a step backward, but Jack tightened his fingers around hers, his
resolve renewed.

If this one kiss would determine his fate, he intended to make it unforgettable.

It was rare
that Sophie found herself rendered speechless by a man, but Lord Jack Wilde’s provocative
declarations had already left her gaping several times this evening. And now his demand
for a better kiss set her head spinning.

She ought to resist him, she knew very well. He was pure trouble, in addition to being
strictly forbidden to her. But he would not release her hand, and when she tried to
retreat, he matched his steps to hers.

He guided her backward until she came flush up against a library table. Her flight
arrested, Sophie stared up at Lord Jack, into eyes that were dark as midnight and
heavily fringed with black lashes. Even with that cool, slightly cocky smile curving
his mouth, he was so devastatingly attractive she could barely think straight.

While she struggled to find her tongue, he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the
table, then braced his hands on either side of her hips, effectively trapping her
there.

“My lord, this has gone far enough—” Sophie began breathlessly.

“Hush, love. I want your full attention when I kiss you properly.”

He certainly had her full attention, Sophie thought dazedly, staring up into his hypnotic
eyes. If only for his audacity. He was bold, brash, brazen … and utterly fascinating.

As he leaned closer, however, the cutlass he wore at his waist clanged against the
table’s edge. Amusement laced the low oath he muttered.

“Weapons are hardly conducive to romance,” he commented. “Pray give me a moment.”

He removed the cutlass and laid it on the table surface beside her, then returned
his keen focus to her.

“Now, where were we?” he asked, his hands reaching up to lightly skim her arms.

He was contemplating her seduction, quite obviously. His possessive look sent a dangerous
thrill down her spine. He was every inch the pirate, prepared to claim what he wanted.

She ought to summon the will to protest, Sophie warned herself, but the disturbing
promise of his mouth made heat race through her veins. Then his hand rose higher to
cradle her jaw. Her breath was already erratic from the effects of his caressing fingers
on her skin, but when he rubbed his forefinger over her lower lip in a light tease,
she ceased breathing altogether.