The Promise (29 page)

Jane leaned into him. A sound came from deep in his throat, a growl of pleasure and pure masculine need. He deepened the kiss.

He backed her against the desk, bringing his thighs in contact with hers, separated by layers of silk and linen. Her trembling knees threatened to give way. He lifted her, setting her on the edge of the desk, parting her legs with his muscular thighs. The voluminous layers of her petticoats and gown billowed around her.

His hands moved with seductive languor over her back, sliding up her spine and down again while he plundered her mouth. The movement was at once soothing and seductive, awakening strange sensations within her. Her head fell back as he dragged his mouth down the length of her neck, tasting her skin, nuzzling the sensitive hollow. Finn cupped her breasts, gently squeezing, running his thumbs over her sensitive nipples. The tips hardened and she cried out softly. With a groan of satisfaction, his mouth returned to hers, probing deeper, savoring.

She caressed the back of his neck then slid her fingers into the raw silk of his hair.

Finn grasped her bottom with both hands, pressing her against him. He rolled his hips in a suggestive motion, rubbing rhythmically against her core. A ravening ache began to build between her legs. Her muscles tightened in anticipation.

Finn grabbed fistfuls of fabric and tugged until Jane’s skirts were bunched around her waist. Flounces and frills spilled across the desk. His hands skimmed slowly from her knees, upward to her thighs, lacy pantaloons the only barrier to his touch. Her breath caught in her chest as he found the opening to her drawers. His fingers brushed lightly across her mound at first, then he applied delicious rhythmic pressure. With a groan of appreciation, he stroked her delicate folds, now slick and wet with desire.

“Finn…I…” she tried to speak as wondrous sensations coursed through her body, and then simply, “Oh!” as he slipped a finger inside her. He probed gently, slipping in and out, circling the center of her pleasure with his thumb. He stoked an almost unbearable longing. She whimpered softly. The sound of her pleasure urged him on. Still stroking the hard bud of her desire, Finn slid his tongue into her mouth. She writhed against his hand, craving more… wanting more…
needing more.

“Good God, Jane,” he growled in a voice thick with passion. She clutched the back of his waistcoat. His nostrils flared and he gulped air like a thoroughbred at full gallop. He scooped her up and strode over to a tufted chaise where he sat with her sprawled across his lap.

“Where were we?” He gave her a slow, wicked grin that set off a chain reaction of excitement inside her body. “Ah, yes, I remember,” he whispered as his hand disappeared beneath her hem. He resumed the kiss, keeping the pace slow, unhurried. He savored everything, the feel of her, the taste of her, the delicious scent of her.

He pulled back to watch her face as he continued to stroke her. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of concentrated ecstasy.

“Come for me, Jane,” he whispered in her ear. “Let go.”

Her eyes flew open as a rattling doorknob snapped them back to reality. Dazed and trembling, they held each other, hoping the intruder would go away. The muffled sound of two men speaking was followed by loud laughter, then the voices faded down the hall.

Jane’s heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird. Layers of fabric rustled to the ground as she stood and leveled an accusatory look at him.

“Your mother is holding this ball in our honor and we’ve been gone an unpardonable length of time. Lord only knows what people think we were doing in here.” She raised her hand to her hair to assess the damage, tense with frustrated desire.

Finn grinned up at her. “They
know
what we were doing in here. If we weren’t already married, I would have been forced to make an honest woman of you.” He stood and gently kissed her. “Don’t expect me to say I’m sorry,” he murmured. He took her face in his hands and kissed her eyelids, her forehead, the tip of her nose. “Because I most definitely am not.”

“Nor am I,” Jane smiled. She ran her hands over her dress as Finn did his best to put her hair in order. “You have left me in a scandalous state of dishabille, sir,” she said primly, but her eyes sparkled with humor.

“Only slightly disheveled,” he offered her his arm. “Now, madam, I insist you dance with your husband at least once lest he makes a fool of himself by challenging one of the young pups who have been dangling after you all night.”

Jane laughed. “No one has been ‘dangling after me’ all night.”

“Dangling,” Finn repeated. “Also falling over themselves, tripping on their own tongues, throwing themselves at you. Dangling, falling, tripping, and throwing.”

“Oh my, how clumsy!”

The first strains of a waltz reached their ears as they stepped into the hall.

“This dance is
mine
, Jane.” He looked at her fiercely.

She gave him a playful smile. “Try to spin me fast enough to explain this hair, will you?”

“And what will explain those swollen lips?” he teased.

She frowned and raised her fingers to her mouth.

The waltz was well underway when they reached the ballroom. They angled into the spinning throng without mishap. Finn was a masterful partner, moving with confident grace as he held her close. She was breathless and dizzy, as much from the naked hunger in his eyes as from the exertion of the dance.

“Stop that,” she hissed.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently.

“Looking at me like that. People are beginning to notice!”

He pulled her closer. “I would stop if I knew what I was doing wrong. Can you describe this look you speak of?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Like I’m a fat, juicy pheasant, and you’re a hungry wolf.”

He dropped his voice and leaned forward. “May I confess something to you?”

She nodded cautiously.

“I haven’t had any… pheasant… since the first day I laid eyes on you, so yes, I am a bit hungry.”

As he expected, Jane turned seven shades of red. Finn chuckled under his breath. As the waltz ended he escorted her back to Roland’s side. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she repeated softly.

It was only one word, but they both understood all it encompassed.

For the rest of the evening Jane was acutely aware of his gaze following her. It was both thrilling and disconcerting. She felt alert, energized, perched on the precipice.

Tomorrow.

Chapter Twenty-One

The last guests didn’t leave until nearly three in the morning. Rather than wake Mary, Jane struggled out of her ball gown and corset then collapsed onto the bed. She didn’t move a muscle until Pip threw open the curtains and pounced on her at noon.

“Wake up, slugabed!” the exuberant child said, bouncing up and down on the edge of the mattress. Jane squinted against the piercing light and groaned. She swatted aimlessly at the air in the general direction of Pip’s voice.

“You look like a turtle trying to tuck its head into its shell,” Pip laughed. “Have you forgotten? This is moving day! Oh, do get up, Mama, I want to see my new room and the nursery and all my new toys and books!”

Jane’s heart lurched. Tomorrow had come. A sudden burst of adrenaline propelled her upward. She sat on the edge of the bed and stretched, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Go away you cruel, heartless child!” Jane groused, covering her eyes with her palms to block the sunlight. Pip giggled.

Mary bustled into the room with a stack of towels in one arm and a freshly pressed traveling gown over the other. Two upstairs maids followed with buckets of steaming water that they poured into a copper tub.

“Good morning, milady. Lord Wallace conveys his apologies and asked me to tell you that he held Miss Pip back as long as he could. He also wanted you to know the luggage has been loaded and the carriages are waiting,” Mary said, giving Jane an appraising glance. “Would you like a cup of tea and some breakfast?”

“No food, but a cup of coffee might help matters. That last glass of champagne was a mistake, Mary. My head is throbbing and my mouth is dry as toast.”

“ ’Tis never the last glass that’s the mistake, milady, but the first,” the maid observed sagely.

“There is no arguing with that logic,” Jane said as a satin neck roll went sailing past her head.

“Oh, when are you going to get up?” Pip threw another pillow. She giggled as Jane reached out to grab her. “You will pay for this impertinence with a vicious tickling, Sprite!” Pip squealed and dodged as Jane launched herself across the bed.

“Pip, go downstairs and let anyone who is interested know I will be ready in half an hour.”

The family was assembled in the hall and there was nothing left to do but say farewell. Finn’s and Jane’s clothing and personal effects had been divided between The Willows and the town home days ago. The duchess would accompany them and spend the night to ease the transition for Pip. She had chosen a suite near the nursery on the second floor. Jane had invited her to decorate and furnish the rooms to her taste.

Cameron bid them a crisp farewell, but Jane sensed an air of loneliness, perhaps even sadness, about him. Jane had experienced firsthand the resounding silence Pip left in her wake, and she knew Carlisle House would echo with her absence for some time to come. Rutledge could be dreadfully stodgy for a man barely thirty, but Jane had peeked beneath the mask he presented to the world and glimpsed his true nature. As Pip’s regular escort to Hyde Park, he showed boundless patience and good humor in the face of her chatter. The nursery at The Willows was full of giant stuffed animals and books he had purchased for her.

Peckham, whose eyes were suspiciously bright, swallowed hard when Pip held out her arms for a hug. He knelt down and obliged her with a warm embrace.

“ ’Twas grand having a child in the house again,” Peckham managed to say despite her stranglehold.

The upper servants lined the hall as Finn and his new family took their leave. Like the tiny lady of the manor, Pip stood before each one in turn and said their names as they curtsied and bowed.  The Duke stood at the open door smiling indulgently as he watched his niece’s regal performance. When she reached him, Pip threw her arms around his knees. “Will you be lonely, Uncle?”

He lifted her in his arms and kissed her nose. “Yes I will, Poppet. But I have Peckham to keep me company. And you must visit often, for I will dearly miss our walks in the park. No one knows as much about wee wild beasties as you, Pip.”

She clung to his neck when he tried to put her down. “Carry me to the carriage, Uncle Cam,” she commanded with childish disregard for his ducal dignity or the ruination of his cravat.

“I would be honored,” his mouth widened in a broad smile as he did her bidding.

“You will see us often, Your Grace,” Jane promised. “We may visit so frequently that you’ll despair that we never left.”

“Nonsense. You are my sister now. Carlisle House will always be your home.”

His words brought tears to Jane’s eyes. She hugged him tightly then reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He patted her back awkwardly, looking a little flustered and off balance by the public display of affection.

“Thank you, brother.”

Finn turned to Cameron. “I’ll spare you similar maudlin declarations, for we shall see each other Wednesday for joint sessions and Jane is determined to have you to The Willows soon for dinner.”

“I look forward to it.” Cameron shook his hand and said in a low voice, “The Fates have smiled on you Finn. I know you will not take your good fortune for granted.”

At any other time Finn would have told him in classic brotherly fashion to mind his own business, but he was feeling magnanimous. He was in the grip of an odd mix of anticipation and optimism that yielded a sense of contentment he had not experienced since he was a child.

Finn turned to help Jane into the carriage, but she was staring into the tree-lined square across the street with a troubled expression.

“What is it? Harry Barnes again?” he followed her gaze, but saw nothing out of place.

Jane shuddered. “No. It’s… I don’t know. I just have the strangest feeling all of the sudden.” She wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Would you prefer to stay on at Carlisle House?” Finn asked. “I suppose we could postpone…” he began reluctantly.

“No, Finn, it’s not that at all,” she moved closer to his side. “It feels like we’re being watched,” she kept her voice low so Pip couldn’t hear. Gooseflesh rose on her arms and the back of her neck.

Finn scanned the crowd again. “Jane, there’s no one there. You’re probably just out of sorts over the move. There have been so many changes in your life of late, it’s only natural that you feel unsettled,” he soothed.

Jane nodded her head, but her eyes remained on the copse of trees. An ominous sense of
déjà vu
washed over her; she actually
felt
evil radiating from the shadows.

“You’re probably right,” she said doubtfully as he helped her into the carriage.

TOM TUGGED HIS HAT low on his forehead and nestled further into the shade of an elm tree. Brooke Street was crowded with pedestrians and he blended into the scene in drab workman’s clothing. He grit his teeth as the family bid each other farewell in front of Carlisle House. It had been his intention to abduct the girl from the park, but now that Jane was moving he would have to come up with a new plan.

He let loose with a torrent of foul invective. Twice in the past week he had nearly snatched the brat from under her nursemaid’s nose. After reconnoitering Carlisle House for several days, he had learned the child’s schedule. Nearly every morning her maid and footman took her to play in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, sometimes the duchess or one of her sons accompanied them as well. Pip was an energetic imp with an inclination to lose herself in play and stray away from her caretakers, a tendency he hoped to use to his advantage.

Pip gravitated toward the Serpentine where ducks and swans glided on the still water and peacocks preened for admirers on the banks. At certain times of the day the area was given over to nurses by the hundreds dressed in white cotton
piqué, pushing baby prams in the shade of umbrella-wielding footmen, providing ample opportunities for caretakers to lose sight of their charges, if only for a moment.

And a moment was all he needed
.

His first opportunity had occurred while Pip was feeding bread to the swans. Her maid sat on a bench some distance away flirting with the footman while the child meandered close to where Tom loitered in the shrubbery. Such a tiny thing she was, small boned and fragile. All he had to do was snatch her, cover her mouth with a chloroform-soaked rag, and race the short distance to the hack waiting nearby. He was unlikely to be noticed, but even if he were, he would be taken for a father carrying his sleepy child. Several blocks would be behind him before anyone noticed she was gone.

Just as he had taken a step toward her, two swans clashed over a morsel, flapping their wings and sending up sprays of cold water into the air. The girl shrieked and ran back laughing to her maid.

He nearly achieved his goal again two days later when Pip darted in his direction chasing a butterfly. His success seemed preordained when the insect fluttered across the lawn directly to his hiding place under the Achilles Monument. She would have run straight into his arms had a puppy not darted between her legs. She turned in pursuit of the miserable cur and his second opportunity evaporated as quickly as the first.

He had precious little funds left and any expenditure was painful. Hiring a hack for two mornings had not come cheap, especially when the coachman had to be paid well enough to turn a blind eye to Tom’s crime.

With mounting frustration, he watched as the Jane and her husband left Carlisle House. Were they going to The Willows or the townhouse on Mulberry Street? Tom didn’t have a lot of time to waste finding out. His creditors were growing aggressively impatient. They had already roughed him up several times, threatening more severe retribution if Tom didn’t come up with half of what he owed them within the next two weeks.

Middlesex or London, either way he would seize an opportunity to change his stars. And next time the sniveling little monster was within his grasp, she wouldn’t escape.

Middlesex wasn’t far from London, about twenty miles, but it took their small caravan more than three hours to maneuver through London’s clogged streets, then work south and west over roads deeply rutted by heavy spring rains. Occasionally the path was blocked by livestock or slow-moving produce wagons on the way to market.

Jane envied Finn, who had elected to make the journey on horseback. She would have loved to do the same, but could not in good conscience abandon the duchess to deal with Pip’s high spirits on her own.

As they left the city, Finn rode in the open fields on her side of the carriage. She watched him through the window. What a magnificent specimen of manhood he was with his long, lean limbs. Finn’s muscular thighs showed to advantage in snug-fitting buckskin breeches and his tailored hacking jacket emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and trim, powerful hips.

Her mind wandered erotically as she studied his elegant hands holding the reins, so strong and capable. Able to make her feel the most astonishing things… especially when he… She looked up to find him grinning wickedly at her, as if he had read her thoughts. A delicious skirl of awareness rippled up her spine. He saluted her with a tip of his hat then urged his horse into a canter. His hips moved in the saddle in a suggestive rhythm. The interior of the coach suddenly seemed fifteen degrees hotter.

“Enjoying the scenery, dear?” the duchess asked with a soft chuckle.

“Yes. It’s… lovely.”

Vivid color stained Jane’s cheekbones. She pulled the shade and focused her full attention on Pip for the rest of the trip.

Everything was immaculate and in perfect order when they arrived at The Willows. Mrs. Williams showed the duchess to her suite while Payton, Mary, and the other servants who had traveled with their entourage settled into their new quarters.

AFTER A TOUR OF the house and grounds, Justine said she would prefer to dine with her granddaughter in the nursery, leaving Finn and Jane to eat alone.

“Kiss your Mama and Papa goodnight,” Justine said to Pip before they went upstairs. “I suspect everyone will be eager to find their beds after all the excitement last night.” There was a distinctly marshal light in her mother-in-law’s eyes and Jane wondered if the double meaning was intentional.

“It seems your mother is making every effort to encourage Pip to think of you as her father,” Jane said after they left. “In a few years she won’t remember living above the bakery,” she remarked as a footman placed a dish of roast lamb and baby peas in front of her.

“That is a good thing, don’t you think? Every girl needs a father to guide her. Pip is already a headstrong beauty, heaven help the young blades of London when she makes her debut. It just occurred to me… I will be the one her suitors approach for permission to court her. How strange to think of myself in that role,” Finn said.

“How do you feel about that? You were a carefree bachelor a few short weeks ago, and now you have a five-year-old daughter.”

“How do I feel? Hmm,” he drummed his fingertips on the table and considered the question. “I don’t know… content, I suppose. It is as good a word as any to describe it. Of course the child came with a mother who became my wife.” Finn looked at her closely then said in a voice smooth as silk, “I find I quite like saying that word. Wife. You are my wife, Jane.”