The Promise (28 page)

He groaned, hardening, thickening, in response to her yielding softness. Jane felt his erection pressed against her bottom. She wiggled against him and he dragged his mouth away from her. “Don’t do that,” he growled.

The word was like a bucket of ice water; her eyes flared with hurt.

“S-sorry,” she tried to edge away.

His arms tightened around her.

“You don’t understand what you do to me. I just…” he gritted his teeth. “If you do that again, I’ll have take you right here, right now. Our first time shouldn’t be in a carriage. I want…” He hugged her against his chest.

“I want to be inside you, desperately, but I want your first time to be perfect.”

She hid her face against his chest.

“Let’s slow things down, love. Enjoy this,” he kissed her lightly. “Just this for now.”

For the rest of the ride they explored each other with long, soul deep kisses. Finn held himself in check, seducing his delicious little pastry chef with patience and restraint, all the while thinking about their first night alone together in their new home. It couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Twenty

Carlisle House had not hosted a ball in five years and the duchess was determined to make it the Season’s most lavish affair. Delighted to see the joy return to his mother’s eyes, Cameron encouraged her to spare no expense. She took him at his word.

The mansion was extravagantly decorated, the sideboards groaned with champagne fountains and every delicacy imaginable, but it wasn’t until the guests began to arrive that the spectacle truly came to life. A ducal ball inspired women to don their grandest silk gowns and jewels. Pearls, colorful ribbons, feathers, and gemstones sparkled in elaborate coiffures. Bejeweled dancing slippers peaked out from under hems embroidered with gold thread. Painted ivory fans and beaded reticules hung from gloved wrists. Although less vibrant, the gentlemen were resplendent in formal black swallowtail coats and trousers, diamond pins winking in their starched cravats. Above it all, four massive crystal chandeliers refracted the light from hundreds of beeswax candles. In keeping with the nuptial theme, tables and chairs were draped with tulle and white roses.

During the first hour Jane stood shoulder-to-shoulder between Finn and the duchess greeting guests as footmen accepted gilt-stamped invitations and the major domo called out names.

After the receiving line dissolved, Jane circled the ballroom on Finn’s arm, accepting the compliments and well wishes of friends and strangers. When Jane was asked to dance, Finn released her with a courteous bow. From that point onward the night was a blur of dancing and polite conversation. She lost track of Finn as she whirled from the arms of one dance partner to the next.

During an orchestra break, her attention was drawn to a very tall, very handsome auburn-haired man striding toward her with a broad smile on his face. She glanced to either side to see if he was looking at someone else, but the women beside her were deeply involved in conversation. Apparently she was the intended recipient of that brilliant smile.

He must have arrived late, because she hadn’t seen him in the receiving line. Still, there was definitely something familiar about him. Thick, wavy hair fell across his high forehead in a way that stirred a memory. She was certain she had seen those bright blue eyes before. He was only a few yards away now… close enough to see a thin, scar running from the corner of his eyebrow to his hairline.

Jane squealed with joy.

To his surprise, Finn was enjoying the evening. Having attended more Society balls than he cared to remember, he had long ago grown bored with the predictable nature of conversation, always safe and polite, the dancing, invariably tame, proper, and ever-so-dull. Tonight was different, however. He was experiencing everything through Jane’s eyes and her delight was contagious.

He kept her in his sights as he moved through the room conversing with friends and acquaintances. Finn had never seen her look more lovely and he felt a rush of male pride that she was wearing the diamonds and yellow sapphires he had given her. The jewels complimented her gown, an elegant creation of dark gold silk that emphasized her slender figure and quiet, gentle beauty. Small capped sleeves left her shoulders and neckline bare and drew his eye to her creamy skin and the gentle swell of her breasts. He noted the many appreciative looks men gave her and felt an unfamiliar twinge of jealousy.

She smiled and talked and danced, her eyes radiant in the candlelight. He wondered what she was saying. Whatever it was, he wished she was saying it to him. He impatiently waited for his chance to dance with her again, but no sooner did each song end than she was whisked away on the arm of another partner. He was surprised… and piqued, if truth were known… when Augustus claimed her for the first waltz. Finn watched, wondering when and where she had learned to dance so gracefully. There was so much about her he didn’t know.

He would ask…
if he ever got the chance!

FINN WOULD HAVE BEEN mortified had he known that his mother and brother had taken notice of his preoccupation with Jane. The duchess caught her eldest son’s eye and winked before directing his gaze to where Finn stood at the edge of the dance floor looking in Jane’s direction with something close to yearning.

Cameron followed her eyes and his brows flew up in surprise. He grinned. It was unlike his brother to forget himself over a woman.

“Have you ever?” the duchess said with delighted wonder in her voice. “All those years I despaired that he would ever find a wife. Now look at him… he’s absolutely smitten! He rejected every highborn beauty I introduced to him and chose a girl he believed to be a baker instead. How contrary.”

“Let that be a lesson to you, mother,” Cameron chuckled.

She smiled up at him with feigned innocence. “To me?”

“Yes, you. For many years I feared the parade of giggling seventeen-year-olds would never end,” Cameron said with a long-suffering air.

“Believe me, when it comes to managing my sons, I have learned all the lessons I need.”

“Indeed?” he said skeptically. “How sad that you can’t claim success in Finn’s case. Fate had more to do with that pairing than you did.”

“Don’t be so sure,” the duchess said enigmatically.

BLESSEDLY UNAWARE THAT he was the subject of amusement, Finn continued to watch for his opportunity to pluck Jane from a growing throng of admirers. It presented itself when she disengaged from the crowd to claim a quiet corner near the orchestra. Finn politely excused himself from a conversation he had only been half listening to, and struck out across the dance floor with single-minded focus. He avoided making any eye contact that might require him to stop and exchange pleasantries.

As he drew near, a tall man intersected his path. They would have collided if Finn hadn’t pulled up short. The man continued past him, striding with purpose toward Jane. As Finn watched, her expression changed from curiosity to dawning recognition. A sunny smile bloomed on her face as she rushed forward. The mild jealousy he had experienced earlier was nothing compared to the sick feeling that twisted through his gut when the stranger took Jane’s hands in his. Finn felt sure they would have embraced but for the crowd.

“Roland!” Finn heard her exclaim.

“Jane!” the other man responded, “Is it really you?”

Roland.
He searched his brain and couldn’t place the name. He didn’t know any Rolands, let alone tall, handsome Rolands who appeared to know his wife quite well. Too well.

They were still smiling at one other with obvious affection, hands clasped together, when Finn reached Jane’s side.

When neither acknowledged his presence after several seconds, Finn prompted, “An old friend, Jane?”

She glanced up at him, but made no move to draw away. “Oh, yes indeed! A very old friend.”

“Not so old. We were born but weeks apart,” Roland said, turning to Finn. “Jane and I grew up together in Dorset. We learned to ride, shoot, climb trees, and swim together. We even lost our front teeth the same summer… I believe we were six, weren’t we, Jane?”

“Yes. Gertie, too. We were an appalling sight, the three of us, all whistles and drool.”

Finn groaned inwardly. He wanted to dance with his wife and she wanted to sing Auld Lang Syne.

“I haven’t seen Jane since we were both sixteen,” Roland said, his eyes filled with warmth.

A little too much warmth for Finn’s comfort. They had been sixteen together. He recalled that burgeoning age in vivid detail along with his own curious, frolicsome escapades with girls. Suddenly, he wondered if being both handsome and his wife’s oldest and dearest friend were sufficient grounds to have him thrown from the premises.

“Won’t you introduce us, Jane?” Finn drawled, although he had already guessed the other man’s identity.

“How rude of me. Remember the story I told you about burning down the gatehouse? This is Roland Haddon, one of the three little Indians and a dear old friend!”

“So you said,” Finn remarked sourly.

Roland stepped back so he could affect a bow. Finn did the same then reached out and shook his hand.
This was Roland?
The impish little carroty sprite with whom she had spent countless summer days frolicking and exploring the countryside?

“Actually, it’s Sir Roland Haddon now.”

Jane’s face clouded. “When?”

“Two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “How is Gertie?”

“Very well. She’s married with two sons, the second born not two weeks ago. She’ll be over the moon to learn we’ve found you.”

“Two sons, how wonderful! You must give me her address. I’ll write immediately and visit as soon as she can receive company. Has she changed?”

“Not at all. Still the same old Gertie. Loves to ride above all things and…” he lowered his voice as if imparting something scandalous, “she’s still an avid reader of penny dreadfuls. You must not mention it in front of her husband; he heartily disapproves,” Roland laughed. “I imagine she’ll drag you to the park for a ride at every opportunity once she learns you’re a resident of the city.”

“You enjoy riding, Jane? I didn’t know. Perhaps tomorrow…” Finn began.

“Gertie lives in London?” Jane asked.

Roland nodded.

“Wonderful! I helped the duchess prepare the invitations, I would have remembered seeing your name. Did you come with a friend? A
female
friend?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“Alas, I am still unattached,” he chuckled.

Finn grimaced.

“The duchess sent a note last week. I can’t tell you how shocked I was to see the Rutledge crest on an invitation to a ball. She explained that you had spoken of Gertie and me fondly and thought it would be a splendid surprise.”

“It was! A splendid, wonderful surprise!” Jane beamed.

Finn might as well have been invisible for all the attention they paid him. He listened to the pair chatter with the casual affection of lifelong friends. After a few minutes it became clear he was superfluous to the conversation.

He wanted to dance with her,
damn it!

On a somewhat childish impulse, he reached out and took Jane’s hand and possessively tucked it into the crook of his arm.

She looked up in surprise.

“I hate to interrupt this reunion, Jane, but mother needs you. Apparently there is a question only you can answer,” Finn lied. “I’ll take you to her.”

Jane looked apologetically at Roland. “I’m sorry. I’ll find you again as soon as I’ve spoken with the duchess.” She extended her free hand.

He smiled and pressed her fingers to his lips. “Yes. Please do. There is so much to say. It seems a lifetime since I last saw you. I’ve missed you, Jane.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said with an affectionate smile. “I’ll be right back, Roland. Don’t go too far.”

Finn clenched his teeth. He glanced around, desperately hoping that his mother wasn’t standing nearby.

“This way, Jane,” he beckoned, maneuvering her toward the arched opening of the ballroom. “She’s in the library.”

They wove through the crowd into the hallway, deserted except for a handful of servants and guests. When they reached the library he opened the door and guided her in with his hand on the small of her back. The latch clicked shut behind her and the key turned in the lock.

She took several steps, looked around the empty room, and turned to him with a question in her eyes. “What…?” His expression drove the rest of the sentence from her mind. Her stomach flipped when he moved toward her with lithe purpose. A wave of sensual awareness broke over her. She took an involuntary step backward.

“Finn?” she said uncertainly.

“This was the only way I could think to get you alone.”

Jane laughed nervously. “We are alone all the time.”

“Never,” he countered in a voice as smooth and dark as black velvet. “We are never alone, Jane.” He reached out and cradled the side of her face in his palm.

She pressed her cheek against his hand.

“We are now,” she said, looking up from under lowered lashes.

“Come here,” he said with quiet authority. His voice was soft, his expression anything but. She stepped closer.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“You.” He pulled her into his arms.

FINN’S LIPS SLANTED across hers with exquisite delicacy. The kiss was gentle and undemanding, soft and searching. She sighed as his tongue slid into her mouth, lingering, exploring. He speared his fingers into her hair, cradling her skull. His breath was warm and sweet against her skin.

He pressed soft kisses across her cheekbone then nipped at her earlobe, running the tip of his tongue inside the shell of her ear, igniting a tingling pulse between her thighs. Her heart pounded so hard she wondered if he could hear it.

Soon the gentle pressure wasn’t enough. Jane moved closer. She slid her arms around his waist under his waistcoat. His flesh radiated heat. Hard muscles rippled and twitched beneath her searching fingers. Excitement throbbed low in her belly as she inhaled his scent.