The Most to Lose (13 page)

“As opposed to people who supposedly don’t have hearts?” Hadleigh growled between clenched teeth.

Lady Amanda’s face lit in a gleaming smile. “I think you understand perfectly.”

The two men glared at each other for several long seconds; then Hadleigh turned his gaze to Amanda. She simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Jonah wanted to laugh out loud but knew such a reaction would only add more fuel to the explosive situation.

Hadleigh quickly returned his attention to Lady Amanda as if he refused to allow her the last word. But it was already too late. Celie’s friend was expounding on the beauty of Verdi’s other works.

Jonah chose to ignore the hostility emanating from the two. Why should he waste any of his energy worrying about the Duke of Hadleigh when he had the opportunity to spend several hours sitting next to Celie?

“May I escort you to your brother’s box?” he said, extending his arm for her to take.

She smiled and placed her hand atop his.

His heart did a somersault before settling back into place.

“I should probably explain about my brother,” she began, but he stopped her.

“There’s no need. I’ve known him equally as long as you and am as aware of what drives his emotions as anyone.”

“You mean Melisande,” she said, looking back to where her friend still had Hadleigh trapped in conversation.

Jonah followed her gaze back to Hadleigh and Lady Amanda and thought that the discussion between the two looked as if it were turning more…confrontational.

“Yes, Melisande.”

“Everything always returns to Melisande, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, somehow she’s able to reach out from the grave and cause trouble.”

“Speaking of Melisande,” she said. “I intended to warn you about something.”

Jonah paused en route to the staircase. “Warn me?”

“Yes, concerning Melisande’s mother. If you happen to attend the same function, please take care to avoid her. Since Melisande’s death, she’s lost her grasp of reality.”

He regretted hearing that. Lady Kendall had idolized Melisande as much as Hadleigh had. He didn’t doubt that she had difficulties adjusting to her daughter’s death.

Celie continued. “At Lady Farthington’s ball, she insisted Melisande had come with them and refused to leave until Melisande was ready to go home. Lord Kendall finally convinced his wife that Melisande had already left.”

A heavy weight pressed against his chest. So much had happened as a result of that night. So many people were still affected by Melisande’s actions. Jonah wondered when it would end.
If
it would ever end.

“Thank you for the warning,” he said. “I appreciate your concern.

She smiled at him, and he led her across the lobby, then up the winding staircase.

Several people took note of them as they made their way to Hadleigh’s private box. It was impossible to avoid the stares.

“Does it bother you that people watch us,” Jonah asked, feeling her fingers tighten against his arm.

“No. Does it you?”

Jonah laughed. “No. Why would it bother me?”

“Because I’m sure everyone is questioning why you are with me.”

“Why would anyone question that?”

She was uncomfortable, and Jonah knew she was struggling to find the right words.

“Everyone knows there are many other eligible females who would come without the problems associated with me.”

“You mean the problems associated with your brother.”

“Yes. Everyone is aware of the hostility between you.” She paused. “Up ahead,” she said, keeping a smile on her face that hid the seriousness in her voice, “are Camile and Rosalind Attkisson. They are both very beautiful and will come with huge dowries when they marry.”

“The reason you are telling me this is because?”

“Because they are confused as to why you are with me instead of one of them.”

“Should we approach them so I can explain my reasons for preferring your company to anyone else’s?”

Her eyes opened wide as if she weren’t sure whether or not he was serious; then she hurried her steps toward Hadleigh’s box. She obviously didn’t want to take the chance that he was.

“I take it your answer is no.”

He opened the door, and she rushed inside. He followed after her.

“Do you realize,” he said, stopping her from going past the velvet curtain that separated the entryway from the padded chairs at the front of the box, “that tonight is the second time you’ve questioned my motives for wanting to be with you.”

“Oh, I’m not questioning your motives,” she said in a reassuring tone. “It’s the rest of society that can’t understand why you prefer my company to anyone else’s.”

“Perhaps they know perfectly well why I want to be with you but are watching in fascination to see if you want to be with me.” Jonah took a step toward her, waiting to see if she’d step away from him. She didn’t.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

He stepped closer. “There are many reasons.”

Jonah couldn’t stop himself. The whole situation was too enticing—the flickering glow of the candles, the murmur of hundreds of voices from the seats below them, the feeling of seeing but not being seen, the danger of being discovered by Celie’s brother.

“Remind me to explain them to you. Later.”

Jonah braced his foot against the door for a second’s warning to keep someone looking for Hadleigh from barging in on them, then lowered his head and kissed her.

She responded quickly and passionately, returning his kiss with an intensity that caused his emotions to soar.

He hadn’t kissed her since that first time, and she melted in his arms, pressing her lush form against him.

The moment she wrapped her arms around his neck to give more of herself to him, he knew he wasn’t remembering their first kiss correctly at all.

He thought their other kiss had been the most powerful kiss in which he’d ever been engaged, but he knew it hadn’t been. This kiss was. Holding her in his arms, feeling her next to him. He’d never experienced anything like it.

Their first kiss hadn’t been nearly so overwhelming. Not like this kiss was.

Even though he didn’t kiss her nearly as long as he had before, something in their joining was more emotional, more powerful. More remarkable.

Jonah kissed her one last time, then pulled away when he heard Hadleigh’s voice outside the doorway.

“Take a chair, Celie. In the second row. That one. We’ll leave the front row for your brother and Lady Amanda.”

Celie quickly took the chair he indicated, and he watched her struggle to calm her breathing. He was seated in the chair beside her when the door opened and Hadleigh and Lady Amanda entered. Their conversation didn’t seem any friendlier.

“Do they always argue like that?” Jonah whispered, leaning close to Celie.

“Yes. I’ve never seen any two people get along less well.”

Hadleigh escorted Lady Amanda to the front of the box but turned back to face Jonah and Cecelia. His expression seemed about as cordial as a wild boar with a sore tooth.

“You shouldn’t have come up without us,” he said to his sister in a scolding tone.

Cecelia looked at her brother with the most innocent expression Jonah had ever seen.

“Why ever not?” she said. “I was perfectly safe with Lord Haywood.”

“Safety has nothing to do with it, Cecelia, as well you know. It’s what people will say. From now on, wait until you’re properly chaperoned. Now, would you care to sit in front with your friend?” Hadleigh indicated the chair beside where he’d deposited Lady Amanda.

Cecelia shook her head. “I’m quite comfortable where I am, Hadleigh. I wouldn’t want to deprive you and Amanda of discussing the opera as it progresses, since you have such varying opinions of Verdi’s works.”

“I think His Grace and I have reached an impasse as far as being able to agree on Verdi’s talents,” Lady Amanda said.

The tone of her voice was not at all amiable, and Jonah couldn’t help but feel a great amount of humor in the scene.

Hadleigh must strongly dislike Lady Amanda if he preferred to spend the evening in a chair next to Haywood rather than beside Celie’s friend.

Jonah nearly laughed out loud. He suddenly realized that, even if
La Traviata
were the worst opera ever performed, he would enjoy it tremendously just knowing that Hadleigh was so miserable.

“We saved you a front-row chair, Hadleigh,” he said, settling back in his chair. “Sit down. They’re snuffing the lanterns. The opera is about to begin.”

Hadleigh had no choice but to take his seat beside Lady Amanda.

Jonah smiled at the perfect positioning of Hadleigh’s chair in relationship to where he and Lady Cecelia sat. If the duke wanted to keep an eagle’s eye on his sister, he was forced to turn his head in Lady Amanda’s direction.

He quickly found out that, every time he did, Lady Amanda turned toward him, and their gazes locked, each flashing with fiery anger.

Hadleigh chose to watch the performance.

Jonah smiled as he placed his arm across the back of Celie’s chair.

The evening was perfect.

Chapter 8

L
ast night’s opera had been perfect. He hadn’t been able to escort Celie home, but he’d spent several pleasant hours in her company. The knowledge that Hadleigh hated every minute of the evening made the night even more special.

Jonah sat alone at the table in the club he’d recently joined and considered the events of the night before. He shouldn’t take such pleasure in Hadleigh’s irritation, but he couldn’t help it. Hadleigh’s discomfort eased a little of the anger that appeared every time the two were in close proximity.

Jonah relaxed into his chair and let a peaceful calm settle over him. This time of day was usually quiet here, and he found he preferred it to the more fashionable hours when most of the tables were full. He could think more clearly, could sort through the confusing path his life had taken.

So many things had happened that would have been impossible three years ago.

When he’d first applied for membership, he wasn’t sure he’d be accepted, but his position was different now. Not only did he hold a title, but he’d returned from the war with a reputation of sorts. It was also possible that word of his close association with the Duke of Hadleigh’s sister helped pave the way for him. He wondered what would happen if and when he no longer paid her court.

He tipped the full bottle that sat on his table and put a small amount of the exquisite brandy in his glass. He took a long swallow as memory of the kiss they’d shared replayed in his mind. He hadn’t anticipated Cecelia to affect him like she did. The reaction from her kiss had been a thousand times more powerful than he’d anticipated it would be. His body’s reaction took him completely by surprise.

When he’d felt her fingers skiff through his hair, he thought he might lose control. He’d wanted her more at that moment than he’d ever wanted any woman before in his life. He still wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman before. His greatest fear was that this feeling wouldn’t lessen, but increase with every day that passed.

He took another swallow of brandy, then shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He needed a cold bath. “Hell,” he muttered beneath his breath. He needed a woman. He’d been without one too long. That’s all that was the matter with him.

Perhaps when he left here, he’d seek out one of Madam Genevieve’s most expensive girls. Maybe afterward, remembering the kiss he’d shared with Cecelia wouldn’t seem so life altering.

He set his glass down on the table and breathed an agonizing sigh. He wouldn’t seek out one of Madam Genevieve’s girls. What made him think a stranger could make what he’d shared with Cecelia any less earth-shattering?

He moved his glass from left to right as he considered what was happening. His plan wasn’t going at all like he’d thought it would. He’d intended to pay her court once or twice—just often enough for Hadleigh to take note and demand he never approach his sister again. His intent had been to irritate Hadleigh, then abandon his pursuit of his sister in search of a bride with a large enough dowry to provide him with the money he needed to cover his debts.

Finding a bride who would come with a large dowry was essential. Unfortunately, for as much as Lady Cecelia consumed his dreams both day and night, a future with her wasn’t possible. Hadleigh would never allow anything to develop between them. And if they went against his wishes, Cecelia would come to him penniless.

He shoved his glass away from him and sat back in his chair. He was destitute. As things stood now, he didn’t know how much longer he could support himself, let alone a wife. Let alone a lady, the daughter of a duke and duchess.

He swallowed the last of his brandy, then slid back his chair to leave.

“Sit down, Haywood. We need to talk.”

Jonah slowly lifted his gaze to meet Hadleigh’s firm glare. Neither moved for several long moments, then Jonah slid closer to the table. “I didn’t know you were a member here, Hadleigh. If I had, I wouldn’t have—”

“I’m not. I’m here to see you.”

Hadleigh pulled out a chair. When he was seated, a waiter placed a glass in front of him and filled it with brandy. Hadleigh slowly lifted the glass and drank.