Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) (14 page)

She glanced around at the group and sighed. “I do not know when, or if, I shall be seeing any of you again. My mother and I shall depart for Belfast three days hence. If the matter is not concluded by then, I hope I may prevail upon you to follow it to its end.”

“But of course!” Lady Annica frowned thoughtfully and tapped one finger against her cheek. “Do not despair, dear Gina. We shall devote ourselves to a solution.”

Jamie had gone early to the ball at Duchess House, leaving Charlie to escort Gina and the Thayers a bit later. He hoped Gina realized he was not deliberately avoiding her. He’d wanted to talk to Lord Marcus Wycliffe before he focused his attention on her.

Wycliffe always arrived early at such events, preferring to watch arrivals and thus know who was in attendance, a habit he acquired after an uninvited guest at a soiree had attempted to slip a knife between his ribs. Wycliffe never made the same mistake twice.

They stood alone with a glass of wine, watching the wide foyer as guests trickled in, most choosing to be fashionably late. Jamie did not meet his gaze as he made his request.

“I had the news today that Mrs. O’Rourke and her daughter are leaving London soon. Monday, if my information is correct.”

“Really? Well, I cannot say I am sorry. The daughters have been somewhat of a distraction—the eldest murdered, Isabella cutting her way through the ton in her search for the killer, Lillian abducted by a scoundrel, and now Eugenia interfering in Home Office business and distracting you from your duties. Yes, I think it will be quite peaceful come Tuesday.”

“In point of fact, I am here to tell you that there are some matters I need to settle with Miss O’Rourke before she returns to Ireland.”

“Has she done something to compromise our investigation?”

Jamie sighed, ignoring the question for a different admission. “Actually, I fear I may have compromised Miss O’Rourke.”

Wycliffe grinned. “
May
have? What did you do? Kiss her behind the hedgerow?”

Jamie bristled. He was not about to give details. “What I did or did not do is not the issue. What I do next is.”

“I see. And what are you going to do next?”

“I intend to ask her to marry me.”

Wycliffe choked on his wine and Jamie thumped him on the back. “What? You? Marry? Is this some perverted joke?”

“Not in the least. In fact, I believe it is the only solution. For both of us.”

Wycliffe glanced around to be certain they could not be overheard. “I pray you are not swayed by excessive sympathy for her and her family. Or that you have not overreacted to
some imagined impropriety. Truthfully, Jamie, I cannot see you doing anything to risk such dire consequences. Of all my acquaintances, I thought you least likely to commit any such offense. Or to marry, for that matter.”

“You needn’t worry overmuch. I fully expect that she will refuse me.”

“You…Why?”

“She does not care for me.”

Wycliffe cleared his throat and Jamie thought he heard a surreptitious rumble of laughter. “I’ve yet to meet the woman immune to your charms. What have you done to make her dislike you?”

“I carried her from the altar. I am a reminder of her deepest humiliation. Indeed, the worst day of her life.”

Sobering, Wycliffe’s expression turned grave. “If she will not marry you, why ask her?”

“I hope to persuade her. Apart from that, I fear for her. The communications we received from Francis Renquist today lead me to believe she would not be safe even in Ireland. If Henley wants her dead…You have sent men to bring in the blackguards on that list,” Jamie said. “But there may be more whose names we do not have, and how can I protect her against that? I need her closer to hand.”

“Can you control her?”

Could anyone? “I have as good a chance as her mother, and I’m more unlikely to relax my vigilance.”

A large party arrived, turning the foyer into a cacophony of laughter and shouted greetings. On the wide steps outside, he could see Charlie arriving with his charges. Though he could only see the top of her head, his stomach lurched. He’d never been so nervous. He felt like a schoolboy in the throes of his first crush.

He should have called on her earlier in the day. Surely
leaving her alone to fret had not been a good move. She was, no doubt, furious with him once she regained her senses. How would he ever woo her back to trusting him?

G
ina was in agony with suspense. When Charles had called for her instead of Jamie, he’d only said that Jamie would meet with them at Duchess House. Not so much as a personal word. Nor had he sent her a message or an explanation. In view of her behavior last night he would, no doubt, wish to distance himself from her as far as possible.

All she could do was to maintain as much dignity as possible. If he feared that she would weep, hurl accusations, make demands, or denounce him, he would be quite pleasantly surprised. She had only one question, and then he’d be free to go his own way. No matter that it would break her heart.

When they entered the foyer at Duchess House, she saw him in deep conversation with Lord Wycliffe. Charles called a greeting and she took a deep breath and cast him a bright, cheery smile. He blinked, then smiled in return. So he
had
been expecting trouble.

“Here comes my brother. I pray I will not be banished now that I’ve served my purpose,” Charlie said.

“Never!” Hortense vowed. “So long as you dance.”

“I shall dance until your toes tingle, dear Miss Thayer.”

She giggled and fanned herself feverishly, and Gina suspected Hortense might have a secret tendress for Charlie. But Charles Hunter was an odd one—always open and charming though she sensed an underlying darkness.

Jamie bowed deeply to them. “My apologies, ladies. Alas, I had some pesky business to attend, but now that you are here, I shall devote myself to you entirely. Miss Harriett, will you consent to dance with me?”

Harriett glanced sideways at Gina, as if embarrassed that he had asked her to dance before asking Gina. “I should be delighted, Mr. Hunter.”

Charlie frowned, watching Jamie as he led Harriett onto to the dance floor. “Shall we find the punch bowl, ladies?”

They stopped to share pleasantries with acquaintances, and before they arrived at the punch bowl, Jamie and Harriett had rejoined them. When Jamie asked Hortense to dance, Gina suspected that he had a plan. Having done his duties to the twins, he could then leave without having to talk to her. Or, more worrisome, he would then have time to deal with her. That thought disconcerted her since it suggested that he had rather more to say to her than she’d like to hear.

And when, at last, he returned Harriett and extended his hand to her, she was not at all certain she wanted to dance. But she could not refuse without raising eyebrows, so she placed her hand in his and followed to the dance floor. As the waltz began, he pulled her into his arms and smiled.

“I trust you slept well?”

She trained her eyes on a point just over his right shoulder. “Tolerably.”

He chortled. “You were sleeping well enough in my bed. Perhaps I should have left you there.”

“Ten minutes more and the entire household would have known where I’d been.”

“We came that close to discovery, eh?”

“Yes.” But she wouldn’t have cared.

“I need to talk to you, Gina. Everything has changed now, and we need to sort it out.”

She nodded, a cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Why did that sound so ominous? All she wanted was the answer to her question.

He glanced outside the terrace windows and muttered a curse. “Rain. We shall have to find a private room.”

“Can it wait?”

“There is too much at stake.”

He led her from the dance floor and toward the central passageway from the foyer. He opened each door and peeked in until he found one suitable then swept her into the darkened room. By the light from the streetlamp outside, it appeared to be a small parlor.

“Perhaps we should not—”

But his decisive closing of the door assured her Jamie meant to have this talk immediately. She perched on the edge of a small settee covered in deep blue brocade. At least they would have privacy.

He came to sit beside her and took her hand in his. “Gina, last night was…was …”

“A mistake,” she finished. “I regret putting you in that position. I regret taking advantage—”

“Advantage? You?”

“I…I distinctly remember asking you to find someplace.”

“So that I would not take you against a tree in public. Good God, Gina! I am amazed that you are even speaking to me.”

Confused, she met his gaze for the first time since they’d entered the room and was struck dumb by the depth of passion there.

He squeezed her hand as he continued. “I think we both know we have been moving toward this for quite some time. You cannot deny the physical attraction between us. Given the strength of it, last night was inevitable.”

“Inevitable,” she agreed, “but regrettable.”

“I do not regret it, Gina, though I am sorry to learn that you do. I have never known anything quite like it.”

He seemed to expect some sort of reply, but she was so humiliated that she could not think what precisely. “It…it was lovely,” she said for lack of better words.

“Lovely?” He arched one eyebrow at her as if she’d delivered an insult.

Heat swept over her as she recalled just how
lovely
it had been. “Ah,
quite
lovely?”

He stiffened. “I see. Well, I gather I shall have to do better in the future. Which, of course, brings me to the point of this conversation.”

“Yes, please. What is the point?”

“Be my wife, Gina. Marry me as soon as it can be arranged.”

“Marry? You cannot be serious.”

Jamie seemed to lose patience with her reply. He stood and threw his hands up in surrender. “I have never been so serious, nor have I ever had such a difficult time convincing anyone of it. Marriage, Gina, is the logical culmination of our impetuousness last night. It is the most prudent way to solve the attendant problems.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Do you think I begged you so that I could trap you into marriage?”

He paced to the window and back. “Gina, I thought we’d both been swept away in the moment, judgment clouded by passion, as it were. But I begin to think I was the one swept away and that you had some other purpose.”

“I doubt I could have stopped had I the chance. But when it began, when you first kissed me, I wondered …”

“Wondered what? If I had fallen in love with you? If I would make a fool of myself by proposing?”

Oh, she had muddled this whole affair beyond repair. He’d mentioned passion, and being swept away, but he’d never used the words she needed to hear. In the absence of that, the only thing she could give him was the truth. “I was desperate to know if I was a virgin. And I thought I could find out if I just—”

“Just let me make love to you? That’s it? That’s why you asked me to find somewhere private? To find out if you were virgin?”

He looked outraged, as if she’d done something unspeakable. In the face of his anger, she was afraid to speak. She only dared a nod.

He threw his hands in the air again and stalked to the window. “I cannot believe this. Did you ever stop to think that your little experiment would
cost
you your virtue if you were still intact? “

She nodded again, trying not to think how badly she’d wanted him, how she’d have made the same decision if she hadn’t had that question, or how she’d thought she’d die if he stopped.

Or how deeply she loved him.

“Well, Miss O’Rourke, you are certainly no virgin now. You have been quite thoroughly introduced into the erotic arts. And you have demonstrated an aptitude for it, by the way.” He went to the door as if he were finished with her, then turned around and fixed her with a glare so intense it made her squirm. “Was it worth it?”

She looked down at her feet. How could she answer that? That it had been worth everything she ever hoped to possess in this lifetime to have the memory of him for the rest of her
life? That she was glad she would have that little piece of him to take back to Belfast with her? That, if she never married, never had children, she would at least know what it was like to have been loved by Jamie Hunter for the space of an hour?

But what was his answer? Had she been virgin? Or had Mr. Henley defiled her? Dare she ask again? She quietly cleared her throat and clasped her hands together in her lap to still their trembling. “Yes. It was worth it. Whatever your answer, it was worth it.”

“Answer? You want
me
to tell you if you were a virgin? You do not know? “

Tears sprang to her eyes but she blinked them back quickly. Jamie would think her silly and would not want to see her weakness now. “If you would, please.”

A myriad of emotions passed over his face so quickly that she could not read them all. But the final one, evident as he came toward her, was one of desire. He stopped before her and lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Gina, none of that matters. Can’t you see that? Henley and the others—what they saw, what they did or didn’t do—doesn’t matter. You are who you are, not what someone may or may not have done to you. And you, my dear, are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

“Jamie, that is not an answer.”

“This is the only answer you need.” He leaned forward and fit his lips to hers, cherishing them softly. She responded in the most primitive way, pulling him closer, astounded by the need that single kiss awoke in her. He came down on one knee to meet her on her level and deepen the kiss. She savored his intoxicating heat, losing herself to his passion and her own need.

He pressed her back against the cushioned seat even as he swept one hand down to free one of her breasts from the curve of her bodice and the filmy lawn of her chemise. When
he dropped his head to take her into his mouth, she thought she would swoon with the sheer pleasure of it.

She tangled her fingers through his hair and pressed him harder against her, arching to him, desperate for the feel of him there. He did not pause in his ministration as he slipped one hand down to edge beneath her gown and sweep up her thigh.

Her breathing deepened as his bare hand found the soft flesh above her garter and beneath her chemise. His knowing hand found its destination—the small firmed bundle of nerves he had discovered only last night. She gasped and opened her legs to give him better access.

“Jamie …”

“I love the way you say my name when you are about to—”

“Oh!”

He chortled. “That’s it, Gina. Just a little more and …”

She reached for him, wanting to give as much pleasure as she took, but he caught her hand and stayed her.

“Not here, Gina. Not now. Later.”

Then he turned his attention back to her gratification, as if that was all that mattered to him now, and she accepted greedily, wanting even more as he slipped two fingers into her sheath, stroking, curving slightly to find a spot so exquisitely delightful that she nearly fainted with pleasure.

“Stay with me,” he urged, as if he feared she would slip away from him.

“Please,” she sighed, not even knowing what she pleaded for.

But Jamie understood what she did not, quickening his stroke and deepening the pressure until she uttered a soft scream of delight as the world narrowed to her center and then ruptured outward again in radiant heat and light.

“Yes,” he praised. “Burn for me, Gina. Only for me.”

Her breathing evened slowly and her mind cleared of the overwhelming passion. Oh, how could he do this to her? How could he know her body better than she knew it herself and give her such unspeakable pleasure? How could she let him go two days hence, and never know this joy again?

Jamie’s own breathing slowed and he withdrew his hand, smoothing her skirts and nuzzling her ear. “You’re like fire, my love. I’ve never known any woman to burn as bright.”

Gina tried to make sense of his words, but all she could think was that he had not found the same release she had. “But you…you did not.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Were we truly private, my love, we would not be finished for hours. As it is, we’ve risked more than we should.”

Heavens! They were at Duchess House. Behind an unlocked door! She stared at the door, fearing it would open any moment and expose their indiscretion. How had she so forgotten herself that she could allow Jamie such intimacies? How could she ever explain such a thing if discovered?

He laughed again, as if reading her mind. “I fear there is no such thing as good sense where passions are concerned. We shall have to be more careful. After we are—”

“We must return to the ballroom before they come looking for us.” She patted her hair into place and smoothed her bodice, knowing there was nothing she could do about the blush that must surely be scarlet by the heat she felt.

“Ah, yes. We would not want them asking questions. At least until I have asked one of my own.”

“Oh! Yes, questions. I completely forgot. I have not had your answer.”

The warm reassuring look on his face faded as if he remembered their earlier argument. “After…
that?
Your answer is all you care about? That is all you want from me?”

“I…yes.” Did he think she would ask more of him? She only wanted what he would willingly give.

He gave a joyless laugh. “‘Twould serve you right to keep that information to myself.”

“Jamie….”

He held up one hand, palm toward her in a gesture of denial. “No, Gina. Suddenly I am not in an indulgent mood. I’m likely to say nearly anything just to cut you as deeply as you’ve cut me.”

“But—”

“You used me to your own purposes, Gina. Can you blame me if I take a bit of revenge against you?”

“You cannot withhold that information from me. I risked everything to know—”

“I risked more, Eugenia, but I cannot expect you to understand that.” And the parlor door closed behind him.

Jamie stalked back to the ballroom, torn between anger and sympathy. The proposal had not gone even remotely as he’d planned. He’d hoped for a sweetly uttered acceptance, and had been poised to acquire a license to wed at once. He’d even been prepared for refusal and had devised an argument to counter it. But he could never have predicted Gina’s admission that she’d only wanted to test whether she was virgin or not. What utter twaddle! She would not have him? Well and good. He would not trouble her further.