The Most to Lose (10 page)

“I want you to know that meeting you was a surprise. I expected to like you.” He smiled. “I had from when you were a young girl tagging after Hadleigh and Melisande and me. You were so determined to be a part of our threesome. Even though Hadleigh and Melisande were determined to keep you at arm’s length.”

His smile broadened, and Celie couldn’t help but answer it with a smile of her own.

“But I never anticipated feeling as I did when we met,” he added.

“How was that?”

“As if I’d known you forever.”

Celie’s cheeks warmed, but she refused to lose herself in his flattery. She lowered her gaze and asked the question she dreaded hearing the answer to the most. “What purpose did you have in wanting to meet me? Was it because you expected Hadleigh to become furious and you wanted to repay him for some of the anger and frustration you’d endured because of him?”

“What makes you think I’ve been angry?”

“How could you not be? Hadleigh was the reason you were ostracized by society. He was the reason you went to war and came home injured. He was the reason you weren’t here when your father and brother died.”

He took a step toward her and sat. He turned to face her and placed his hand over hers. “I didn’t speak to you that first night because of any hidden agenda to take revenge on your brother, nor to get even with him for anything that happened. He didn’t
force
me to enter the war. I chose to go. I needed to separate myself from what had happened that night with Melisande as much as Hadleigh needed me to be gone so he could heal.”

“And the fact that you weren’t here when your father and brother died?”

He shook his head. “My father and brother had been traveling down a path toward destruction for years. Each made one fatal decision after another. Each failed to live productive lives years before their physical deaths.”

“Then why?”

He released her hands and leaned back against the bench. “I warned you that you would not like everything I had to say, and this will be something you’ll like the least. I sought you out that night because when I came back to London after the war, I came back as the Earl of Haywood.” He took a breath. “My intent was to take my rightful place in society, and I could hardly do that if your brother was still intent on forcing everyone to choose between the two of us.”

He rose to his feet and clutched his left hand to his side. Celie could see his side still pained him, no doubt because he’d been on his feet for so long.

“When your brother did not turn away from me, I decided I would carry my plan one step further.”

“You wanted to see what he would do if you introduced yourself to me?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think to do if he objected?”

“I told myself I would handle that problem if and when it arose.”

Celie breathed a sigh. The Earl of Haywood had accomplished his goal. He’d been accepted back into society and had spent an adequate amount of time with her to convince everyone that any rift between the Duke of Hadleigh and the Earl of Haywood had been bridged. Though she’d dreamed that there might have been a more personal reason he’d singled her out, she’d been nothing more than the vehicle he’d used to take his rightful and necessary place.

That knowledge shouldn’t pain her, but it did. She’d watched the bitterness her brother harbored toward his longtime friend eat away at him for the last three years, until she feared for his health and mental well-being. She should be glad that Hadleigh’s healing process had begun and that she’d played a part in it. But it hurt to know that the man she’d secretly loved all these years felt nothing for her. That he’d only used her to gauge Hadleigh’s feelings.

So this was how it would end.

Her instinct told her that the role she’d played in Haywood’s attempt to regain his rightful place was finished. She closed her eyes and prayed he wouldn’t ask that she still remain his friend. She didn’t think she could survive that.

She cloaked her heart with the impenetrable armor she was so adept at putting in place, the same shield she erected each time a suitor attempted to court her, knowing it was her dowry they wanted instead of her; as she watched one childhood friend after another meet the man of her dreams, then marry, knowing the man of her dreams didn’t even know she existed; as she attended wedding after wedding and smiled at the happy bride and groom as if their happiness didn’t cause an empty ache that never went away.

She refused to let Lord Haywood think she’d been foolish enough to expect—no, dream of—more than friendship, dreamed that, one day, he would ask her to be his bride. She possessed too much pride to let him think she thought it possible for a man to want her enough that he’d overlook the ill feelings between himself and his wife’s family.

No, she would handle this with the same indifference that she handled every disappointment.

“So now you can continue with your agenda.” She lifted her gaze and gave him a bright smile. “You can begin your search for a wife. Or have you already?”

He looked her in the eyes. “Yes, I’ve already begun.”

“I see,” she answered.

A part of her died a little, but she would not allow him to see it. She took a fortifying breath. She refused to have him feel sorry for her, refused to let him pity her. Refused to let him realize how much she hurt.

“Aren’t you going to ask if anyone has attracted my attention?”

Celie kept the smile on her face even though it hurt to keep it there. “No, Lord Haywood. I think I prefer to watch your story unfold.”

“But I value your opinion, Lady Cecelia. I’d like to discuss my choice with you and gain your opinion.”

“I’d prefer not, Lord Haywood. Perhaps when you have narrowed your choices, I’ll offer an opinion, but not yet.”

Their gazes locked for what seemed an eternity. When it hurt too much to look at him, she broke the contact and moved to rise. “If you’re ready, I think we’d better go back.”

She needed to escape, needed to make her way someplace where it would be quiet and she could be undisturbed for a while.

She took his outstretched hand, grateful that he realized they’d spent enough time alone and needed to return before they were missed.

She rose to her feet and made a move to step away from him, but he held her fast.

“Perhaps I would do better to show you my intent,” he said when she stood next to him. “As I said, it’s important that you are aware of my intentions.”

She started to object, but before she could separate herself from him, he stepped closer and cupped his palm to her cheek.

He smiled, then lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

Their kiss was short, tender, and without a doubt, the most emotional experience of her life.

“I surprised you,” he whispered, pulling back slightly. “I’m sorry. I should have asked your permission first.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

She’d been kissed before. Not often, but at least a few times—but never had the experience been so…wonderful.

“Have I offended you?” he asked, the expression on his face part humor and part concern.

He smiled when she shook her head. “You have a question. I can read it on your face. What is it?”

She swallowed. “Why?”

“Why did I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I wanted to. And I thought you wanted me to as well.” His expression turned serious. “Was I wrong?”

Celie thought to lie, but couldn’t. “No,” she answered softly.

“Good.”

Before she could think what he meant, he lowered his head and kissed her again.

His mouth covered hers. The feel of his lips atop hers was as warm and tender as before, only this kiss was different. There was nothing simple in their contact, nothing shallow. Nothing that hinted at
friendship
. Even the way he held her emphasized a possessiveness she’d never experienced before.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him, holding her tight, and her body ignited with a burning sensation that shot to every extremity. Suddenly, even though he kissed her with more passion than she’d ever been kissed before, it wasn’t enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him to her. She stretched out her fingers and let them glide through his hair.

The feel of it was silky and soft, yet thick and heavy, as strong and robust as the arms holding her. The flames inside her intensified at such an intimate gesture. And he deepened his kiss even more.

Each second slowed, then seemed to stop while her balance shifted at a dizzying pace. She’d lost control several minutes ago. She no longer knew how long he’d held her in his arms, or how long he’d kissed her with such fervor, or when her knees had turned to butter beneath her. All she knew was that she couldn’t breathe on her own but needed him to help her, couldn’t stand on her own but needed him to support her, wasn’t complete on her own but needed him to make her whole.

His mouth opened atop hers and he urged her to follow his lead.

She did.

Celie knew at that moment she’d follow him to the ends of the earth if he took her there. And go willingly.

He deepened his kiss, demanding more and taking all she gave. Then, as suddenly as he’d begun his kiss, he lifted his mouth and released her. Thankfully, he didn’t drop his hands from her, but pulled her closer to him and wrapped her in his embrace.

Celie placed her cheek against his chest. His heart thundered beneath her ear. His chest heaved as rapidly as hers, and she knew their kiss affected him as much as it did her.

“Jonah?”

“Shh,” he whispered, cupping one hand against her head and the other around her shoulders to keep her cocooned in the shelter of his arms. “Don’t say anything yet. It’s…too soon.”

Celie did as he asked, even though she was desperate to ask him what had just happened to her. She’d give anything to be more worldly, to have more experience in the art of kissing. Was this the way it always was when two people kissed? Had the effect of the kiss they shared been the same for him?

If it had, no wonder people enjoyed it so much.

“Are you steady enough to make it back to the house?”

She nodded, and he loosened his hold on her so she could test her shaky limbs. “Jonah,” she began after they’d taken the first few steps back through the garden.

His arm around her shoulder tightened, and Celie stopped speaking.

“Tomorrow, Celie. We’ll talk tomorrow. After I’ve had a chance to sort things out.”

Celie nodded, and they made their way back to Lady Cushing’s music room.

She would have to wait until tomorrow…

But it wouldn’t come fast enough.

Chapter 6

J
onah sat in the darkness and stared at the flames that whipped in the fireplace. His emotions roiled inside him with a fury that matched the flames. Each pop of the burning logs snapped at him like a harsh reprimand for tonight’s foolish behavior.

Why the hell had he kissed her? Doing something so stupid had never been part of his plan. Now he’d jeopardized everything.

From the moment he received word that he was the new Earl of Haywood, he’d had one goal—to keep from losing Haywood Abbey. That was when he’d laid the foundation for what he had to do to pay the staggering debts his father and brother had left him.

An image of how Haywood Abbey looked before his father had allowed it to fall to ruin flashed before him. The grandeur of his family home when his grandfather was still alive tugged at him with affection. He loved Haywood Abbey more than his father or brother ever had and was desperate to bring it to its former glory.

He breathed a deep sigh. There was only one way to save the estate he loved. He had to marry someone who would come with a dowry massive enough to pay his astronomical debts.

But that someone was
not
going to be anyone related to the Duke of Hadleigh. It was
not
going to be Lady Cecelia Randolph. Paying court to her had never been part of his plan. Never!

He took a larger sip of the whiskey in his glass. If only he’d never given in to the temptation to exact a small amount of revenge the first night he’d seen her. If only he hadn’t followed her outside the night of Lady Plimpton’s ball. If only he hadn’t talked to her and glimpsed how special she was.

His strategy from the beginning had been so simple and straightforward. He would make his way back into society. He would find and marry a bride who came with a large enough dowry to pay his debts. He would devote the remainder of his life to making Haywood Abbey profitable. His plan was perfect. Its success was guaranteed.

Until he’d met Lady Cecelia Randolph.

Approaching her had never been part of his plan. The less he had to do with the Duke of Hadleigh or anyone connected to him, the easier his life would be. Then he’d seen Hadleigh’s sister leave the ballroom, and his desire to strike out at his enemy made him do something he knew would infuriate Hadleigh.

There wasn’t much he could do to irritate his nemesis, but he had two things in his favor that he hadn’t had three years ago: he wasn’t a second son any longer, but was now the Earl of Haywood, and he’d returned home a war hero. Even Hadleigh’s ducal influence couldn’t force society to turn their backs on someone the Queen herself had decorated.