Utterly Devoted (6 page)

“Well, I certainly avoid the topic,” she assured him. Squaring her shoulders for battle, she marched back to face him. “And if you are sincere in this tale of reformation, you will not want it shared either.”

He immediately brightened. “I am sincere, I assure you. All I ask is your forgiveness.”

Was it as easy as that? Could she simply lie, say that all was forgiven, and have him disappear from her life? He would not speak to her father. He would not speak to Lady DeGuis. He would not speak to Lord Nathaniel. She could not believe her good fortune. She opened her mouth to grant his request.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Jareth was regarding her, and she managed a feeble smile while her mind whirled. What was wrong with her?
What was wrong with him
, another part of her insisted. Did he truly think a simple apology was all it took to wipe away his past? He claimed to have sent his valet to check on her; it seemed a lie at worst and far too easy at best. He had made her think that he cared, then walked away, leaving her to bear any consequences from their actions. Given that, how could she even consider granting forgiveness so easily?

He was obviously not so much changed that he thought he had to atone. No, he still thought all he needed was a charming smile and a ready wit. Even now, he smiled at her as if certain she would acquiesce to his request. The injustice was great, but her need for his silence was greater. Too much hung in the balance—her present, her future. She tried to force the words out, but nothing came. Why could she simply not say the words he wanted to hear and send him on his way?

Perhaps it was the look of supreme confidence in those clear blue eyes.

“You never required my forgiveness before,” she pointed out. “Why do you want it now?”

She knew she must have grown wiser then because she saw the change in him. He stood just a little straighter in his black coat and dove gray trousers, and his gaze skittered away from hers. He didn’t want to answer that question. Why?

“I want your forgiveness now,” he said, “because it would ease my conscience.”

She felt a laugh bubbling. “Now there’s a lie. You, sir, have no conscience.”

He shook his head, the sunlight from the window beyond them making golden highlights on his thick wavy hair. “Certainly I have a conscience. Perhaps it just uses a different scale of measurement than yours.”

“Oh, I am certain that it must. And I am just as certain that it does not motivate you in this instance. What does, I wonder?” She cocked her head and regarded him steadily. He shifted his weight ever so slightly from one foot to the other. She had to hide a grin. This was simply too much fun! The thought that she could actually discompose the infamous Jareth Darby was quite heady.

“Come now, Mr. Darby,” she challenged. “Out with it. Why are you really here?”

He shrugged. “Believe me or not, madam. I truly came only for your forgiveness.”

She felt a jolt of disappointment and put it down to having her fun thwarted. She tried to get him to answer again. “What, no other motivation? Perhaps I can guess. Is it that you have fallen in love and your new lady requires proof that you are a gentleman?”

He snorted. “Any lady who would accept such feeble proof would not be worthy of my love.”

She was willing to accept that but frowned at the feeling of satisfaction that curled through her. Some part of her appeared delighted that he was not in love, likely the part that wanted to see him suffer.

“Then it must be your family who requires it,” she guessed. “Perhaps they will not allow you into their bosom until you prove yourself reformed.”

“My brother has been kindness itself,” he assured her. “I even accompany him on outings. You saw us in church today.”

She certainly had. She hadn’t thought devils were allowed on sanctified ground, but there he’d been, as pious as the rest of the congregation. She had felt a momentary start when she realized that Lord Nathaniel was sitting but a few rows ahead of him. Her gentle viscount had indeed come calling that week as he had said, but she had been chagrined to find that his conversation was even more stammering than usual. He had been unable to bring himself to offer for her. She could not allow him to converse with Jareth before he was truly hers.

But as upsetting as the idea of losing Lord Nathaniel had been, what had been more upsetting was the way her eyes were drawn to the glow of Jareth’s pale hair in the lamp light. When he turned his gaze toward the choir, she had marveled at the clean line of his profile. When he stretched his arm out along the back of the pew, she had remembered how it felt to have that strong arm wrapped about her. Even now, watching him fidget through her questioning, she felt the memories stirring. She shook herself, determined to remain on course.

“If not love or loyalty, then,” she said, “money must be involved somehow.”

This time there was no mistake that he stiffened. She gasped.

“That’s it, isn’t it? What, have you made some wager about me this time? Am I merely a line in the betting books at White’s?”

His face was hard. “I have told you my motivation, madam. I wish to clear my conscience and return to a normal life. If you think otherwise, you don’t know me.”

“On that we quite agree,” Eloise said, sure she had found the true reason and incensed by it. “And I assure you that had I known what you were, I would never have let you near me.”

Those eyes were chips of ice. “And what exactly am I?”

“Do you require a listing of your many sins? Perhaps we could start with the more obvious ones. You are a liar and an adulterer.”

He shook his head. “And you, madam, listen far too much to gossip and slander.”

She raised her brows. “What, do you pretend innocence?”

“I feel no need to justify myself, to you or anyone else.”

“And why not? You came here asking for my forgiveness. If you are such a paragon, for what must I forgive you?”

He sucked in a slow breath, as if trying to maintain his civility. “In truth, I am not sure. Perhaps coming here was a mistake. Apparently, you have made up your mind, and nothing I can say can sway you. Therefore the only thing left is to bid you good day, madam.” He snapped a bow and started for the door.

Eloise stared after him, suddenly deflated. That was it? After all that, he wasn’t willing to fight for the forgiveness he claimed he wanted? No begging? No pleading? Even after all this time, he could not even commit to so little as a conversation.

Yet, inexorably, he stopped. She could see his shoulders rise as if he had taken a deep breath. He turned toward her, and she was the one to inhale sharply. Those eyes seemed deeper somehow, sadder. She felt her heart touched and struggled to keep up the walls she had erected against him.

“I am a coxcomb, Eloise,” he murmured. “I see no reason for you to hate me so, but for the very fact that you do, I should apologize.”

“On that,” she said quietly, “we can also agree.”

He took a step back toward her. “Is there nothing I can do to persuade you that I have changed? Nothing I can do to make amends?”

“Fall off a very high cliff onto some very sharp rocks?” The words were out before she thought better of them.

He shook his head with a wry grin. “Perhaps something less violent? I paid good money for this coat once. Jagged rocks and blood would do it little good.”

She could see he was trying to tease away her anger. Would that it were so easy. She had thought she had put this episode of her life behind her, that she had come to terms with the choices she had made. But it was apparent something held her back from closing that door. Surely it was the fact that she had been the only one to bear the consequences.

If only she could show him the damage he caused. If only she could make him understand the humiliation and pain his ladies must feel when he walked away and left them to sweep up the pieces. For once, just once, she wanted Jareth Darby to feel what it was like to be on the one with regrets.

Was that possible?

He must have seen some change in her for he stepped forward once again.

“What is it?” he asked almost eagerly. “Have you thought of some way you could forgive me?”

She had, and it was something so perfect that she could not believe she had discovered it. Jareth claimed to have a conscience. If that were true, she had only to get him to use it. She might never erase the hurt she still felt from their parting, but if he realized the damage he had done, he might be prevented from hurting anyone else.

And if he didn’t have a conscience, she need feel no guilt for putting him through the suffering she planned. Besides, if she planned the suffering appropriately, she might be able to prevent him from telling anyone about their past. Either way, she was free.

“I have an idea,” she allowed. “It remains to be seen whether you will be willing to try it.”

“As long as it does not involve sharp objects or loaded pistols, I am certain I will approve.”

“Very well, then.” It was all she could do not to rub her hands together with glee. “You claim to have changed, Mr. Darby. I require proof, a challenge if you will.”

He smiled, spreading his hands. “I am yours to command.”

“We shall see. I propose a series of tests. Pass them all, and I shall bestow my forgiveness. Fail even one and you will never approach me again or speak one word about our former association. Is it agreed?”

He eyed her. “Perhaps I should hear about the tests first, given your bloodthirsty predilections.”

She faltered. She had hoped to concoct them as she went, using whatever inspired at the moment. But he mustn’t know that. She straightened. “The exact nature of the tests is immaterial. Besides, if I told you before hand, it might give you an advantage.”

“Heaven forbid.” His smile told her he was humoring her. She couldn’t wait to see that smile fade.

“But if you insist on keeping it dark,” he added, “I must insist on a few caveats to my acceptance.”

“Such as?” she asked suspiciously.

His blue eyes glinted in challenge. “No test can be a paradox. You cannot ask me to retrieve the moon or stop the sun.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Children’s wishes. I would not be so foolish.”

He nodded. “Good. You will also not require me to do anything that could cause me or anyone else bodily harm.”

“What do you take me for?” she demanded. “Certainly I would never ask you to harm another.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Finally, you cannot require me to spend a penny. No fripperies or trinkets from the local jewelers.”

“I begin to think I should call this off now,” she said coldly, “if you truly think I would use this as an excuse to wrangle a bauble from you.”

“You have changed, madam. How am I to know what you are capable of now?”

How indeed? She would show him, and well. She smiled. “As you will. I accept your terms. Are we agreed?”

“Agreed.” He stuck out his hand, and she accepted it. Before she knew what he was about, he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Heat licked up her arm. She snatched back her hand.

He grinned as if he knew exactly the effect he had on her. “So, when do we start?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” she replied before she could lose her courage. “Meet me at Berry Brothers and Rudd on St. James’s at eleven in the morning, and you will be given your first test.”

Chapter Seven

As soon as Jareth left, Eloise called for the carriage. She simply had to tell Cleo what she’d done. She was rather glad her friend received her in the wood-paneled library of the Hastings’s townhouse and did not suggest refreshments. Eloise’s hands were shaking so hard she was certain she’d never be able to hold a cup of tea.

“I must be mad,” she told her friend as they sat on the heavy wooden chairs the library boasted. “But I find myself actually enjoying the thought of tormenting him.”

“I think your choice was inspired,” Cleo assured her, brown eyes glinting with malice. “We’ve both heard rumors of the number of ladies he has wronged. Tomorrow you strike a blow not only for yourself but all of them as well. If only I knew their names, I’d issue personal invitations.”

Eloise couldn’t help but giggle at that. “We might even sell tickets and donate the money to Comfort House.”

Cleo clapped her hands. “No, I have one better: we could enter a wager in the betting books at White’s on his ability to complete your tests. The men will be sure to take his side, and we will win a fortune!”

At the mention of the betting books, Eloise sobered. “I would give much to see those books right now. I believe he may be trying to win a wager at my expense.”

Cleo scowled. “We shall shortly see about that. I’ll ask Leslie to check when next he visits. Just be certain you show Mr. Darby no mercy tomorrow. After what he did to you, he should be thankful you were no more vindictive. Hercules had twelve labors, if I remember correctly.”

Eloise shook her head. “I will have a difficult enough time coming up with three, I assure you. And if I cannot keep myself from remembering his more tender moments, I might not even manage three.”

“Tender moments?” Cleo’s dark eyes widened. “He had tender moments?”

Eloise giggled again. “What, did you think I would be attracted to a monster? I assure you, he has earned his reputation for wit and charm. I doubt few ladies can resist him when he is intent on his game.”

“Is that why you---“ Cleo stopped herself, reddening so that her skin clashed with the apricot gown she wore. “Forgive me, Eloise. I have no right to ask you that.”

Eloise suspected she knew what Cleo wanted to ask. “You are my truest friend, Cleo. If you cannot ask me, who can?”

Cleo hesitated a moment longer, then blurted out, “How could you have given yourself to him? I mean, you were only fifteen, nearly a child. It just isn’t done!”

“Oh, I suspect it is done far more often then our teachers would lead us to believe,” Eloise told her, though the mild censure stung. “But, the simple fact was that I fancied myself so deeply in love that nothing else mattered. I would have flown to the moon and back had he asked it of me. Anything else seemed trivial.”