Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) (46 page)

He felt lost. Disoriented almost. Cursing to himself, he ran a hand over his eyes and sighed. Tossing back one drink, he refilled his glass. This time however, he stared at the liquid.

He did not know what to do or where to turn. How could he not have seen how much she had meant to him? Jo brought laughter, sunshine, and joy into his life. She always had but he had used stupid reasons to keep her at a distance. Now she gave him the distance and he did not like it. Correction, he hated it.

Time passed as he drank. He played cards and drank some more. It was dark when he finally left. His pockets heavier with the coin he had won. None of it mattered. Looking up and down the street, he tried to figure out what to do next when a carriage pulled up in front of him. Even with the blurry eyes he had, he could identify the coat of arms on the door.

“What do you want, Jack?” he snapped when the rider poked his head out.

“Get in.”

He did not wish to but he also had no desire to walk, so he lurched up in. Sprawling on the seat across from the man he used to work for, he waited for him to talk.

“Come back.”

“No.”

Hmm, look at that, he said that no as fast as Jo had turned down his marriage proposal. Jo. Just thinking about her made him want to hold her close.

“You are needed.”

“No.” He closed his eyes. It was dark in there anyway, no need to keep them open when you could not see the man.

“Still set on having a family?”

“If the woman I want as my wife and mother to my children would stop telling me no.”

Jack remained silent for a while. Just when he almost dozed off the quiet ended.

“So let her go.”

That brought his eyes open and sat him upright. Let her go? Was the man insane?

“Go to hell.”

“I am already there. She obviously is not going to marry you. Come back to work.”

“How do you know? Have you said something to her? If you have interfered, Jack, I will kill you.”

A strike and flash of light filled the interior as Jack lit a cigar. He could faintly make out his features each time he drew on it. There existed no sympathy in the cold gaze and Trystan had not expected any.

“I have no need to interfere. Your mood tells me all I need to know.”

“She is busy planning a wedding with her friend.”

“And banns cannot be posted during such a time, right, I forgot that law.”

The sarcasm flowing from his tongue had Trystan longing to cut it out and fry it. Could he feel any lower? Well, yes, he probably could but right now, he was not entirely positive.

“Do you have something you want to say to me,
Your Grace
that is actually anything that has to do with you?”

“I have said my piece. I want you working for the Crown again.”

“No. Let me out.”

Another draw and he rapped on the ceiling. They rolled to a stop and Trystan jumped out without waiting for anyone to open the door for him.

“Trystan?”

“Do not ask again, Jack. The price is too high.”

“Perhaps.”

He slammed the door and turned his back on the carriage. He glanced up and down the street. At least he was on the right one. Rubbing his chest where he had been shot, he made his way back home.

Sitting in his room, he was about ready to crawl into bed when it hit him. He knew how to get her alone. After splashing cold water on his face, he changed his clothing and headed back down to the first floor.

There was almost no moon, which served to his advantage, and once outside, Trystan made his way to his target destination. It did not take much for him to slip inside and make his way silently up the servant’s stairs. Having stayed there, he knew what steps made noise and where everyone slept.

Pausing outside her door, he took a deep breath and cautiously turned the knob. With measured care, he made his way to her bedside. Luckily, he knew where on the bed she slept.

Moving swiftly, he clamped a hand over her mouth and used his upper body to ensure she could not go for whatever weapon he knew she had near.

“Jo, it is me, Trystan.”

She had gone stiff and at his announcement did not really seem to relax any.

“I am going to remove my hand. Do not scream. Nod if you understand.”

Ever so slowly, her head moved and he took his hand away and released her body. Not that he wished to, for he truly liked the feel of her beneath him.

“What are you doing in here and at this time of night?”

He had dreams, explicit sexual dreams about that sleep-rasped voice of hers. His cock stiffened and he swallowed hard, ignoring it. “You have been ignoring me.”

“You snuck into my room because you feel slighted?”

His heart raced faster at the hint of her old self. Passionate. Sassy.

“I told you, we needed to talk.”

“No, we do not.” Damn it, she had dragged herself back under control, for her tone was almost bored.

“Why not?”

“What is there to say, Trystan?”

“Marry me.”

Her chuckle not at all humorous. “I saw your mistress today. Perhaps your time would be better served if you were with her. Please leave. I have a very busy day tomorrow. Clara’s wedding is in two days.”

Damn if the chit did not roll over and present him with her back. He exhaled and remained by her bed. Arabella. He really believed he had taken care of that issue. Something to do now. If she was in bed with someone, not his problem.

But before he left to do that, he had something else to do here. Reaching out, he found Jo’s shoulder, turned her to him and covered her lips with his own. It was not a gentle or tender kiss. No, he took what he wanted. The moment she began to press into him more, he broke it off.

“Get out.”

Yes, he could use his skills and be back in her bed but he wanted her to say yes and not have to change her mind. He did as she ordered and left to deal with Arabella, even while his thoughts were on the vibrant woman he had just kissed.

Chapter Nineteen

Papa and I talked about how he and Mama met. Later, I asked Papa if he truly believed in love. He laughed and came to sit beside me as we overlooked Africa’s beauty watching the sun lower in the sky. He told me he did and never to forget love was the most important thing in the world. It was the most powerful and while it may seem as though it was lost, love had a way of reappearing at the right moment.

~From the private journal of Josephine Adrys

Jo breathed deeply from her spot along a wall. The ballroom well lit with hundreds of beeswax candles, which thankfully did not drip like most tallow. The floors shone and the tables heavily laden with refreshments. She watched Clara Bottomley whirl around the room in the arms of her husband.

The service had been beautiful and the couple had been gone for a week. This was a party given to them. Duchess Haversham put it on and many people were in attendance. One she recognized as Sara, Duchess of Wimpleton. She had managed to snag a rich man, but the rumors were it was not a happy union.

Moving her gaze along, Jo tugged the edge of her glove and clasped her fingers together. She cursed herself the instant she realized what she was doing. Searching for Tryst. He had been foremost in her mind since the night he snuck into her room. She had almost caved and given herself to him but wanted things to be on her terms. Not his.

“She is lovely, is she not?”

Jo turned and dipped into a curtsey. “Indeed, Your Grace.”

Duchess Haversham ran a critical eye over her attire and gave her a smile. “You are lovely as well. That color is stunning on you.”

She looked down at her dress. This was the colored fabric she had picked up when she was out with Clara. The seamstress had done a wonderful job on it, in her opinion. The rich ruby port hue matched some of the red in her hair. She wore beads the same color woven throughout her coiffure. Around her neck, a simple gold cross and she had rubies instead of pearls in her ear.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

They remained silent for a while and she hugged her friend close when they came to say farewell. The party would still be going on, but the new couple had chosen to leave. So she remained there and watched the dancing and twirling couples on the floor. Part of her wanted to dance. Part wanted to leave and find her pillow to cry into.

It was not that she was not happy for her friend, for she was. Truly. She merely felt as if she were being left behind. Najja and now Clara. She shook her head, it was nonsense. All would be fine once she started travelling.

“Your Grace. Miss Adrys.” A deep voice intruded on their moment.

Jo looked up and a smile immediately crossed her face. Callum Blackwood stood there.

“Mr. Blackwood,” Jo said with obvious pleasure. “It is wonderful to see you.” She had known he was here but had yet to converse with him.

He took her hand and bent over it, his lips brushing along the white of her glove even as his eyes held hers. A thick lock of his hair fell forward over one eye, and yet she could still see the wink he sent her. He wore black with dark brown. The same shade as his eyes and hair. A ring on each hand, gold, sparkled in the light.

“You, Miss Adrys, are a vision of loveliness.”

Still a flirt. She merely shook her head and tried very discreetly to reclaim her hand. It took her a bit before he released her.

“Such a rogue still, Mr. Blackwood.” Duchess Haversham gave a decided sniff.

“I know not how to be anything else, Your Grace.”

She shook her head and Jo watched their interaction with amusement. Then he returned his attention to her.

“May I have this next dance?”

Jo dropped into a curtsey and nodded. He took her hand again and led her out on the floor when the first strands of a waltz filled the air.

“I did not think to see you here.”

“Clara is like family to me. I regret I was unable to attend her wedding but this party I could not miss.”

His affection for Clara was undeniable in his tone. Another reason she liked him so much.

“I know she is glad you attended.”

She had been. Clara had promptly burst into tears when he had walked in. Royce had not been too pleased but he had been a gentleman, welcoming Callum with a smile and handshake.

Many of those in attendance wanted to turn their nose up at him. If it bothered him, Callum never showed it. She watched him as he turned women into blushing fools with nothing more than a single look. Not that she blamed them, he surely was a handsome man who made one’s mind drift more toward things couples did in the privacy of their own home. Or at brothels.

She glanced up at him as they whirled around the room. He had so much grace it was as if her feet hardly touched the floor.

“Tell me, Jo, how have you been?”

They chatted as they danced, she felt at ease in his arms, and it was a shock when the song ended. It had not seemed as if they had been out there so long. Slipping her hand onto his arm, he led her from the floor, both of them still laughing at a comment he had made.

He took her hand and bowed low over it, his lips hovering right above the fabric of her glove. The stark whiteness of her glove standing out against the tan of his skin.

“As always my dear, you are a complete treasure. Thank you for—”

“Take your hands off her!”

Jo jumped at the thunderous claim coming from behind her. Callum merely arched a brow—informing her he was not surprised—brushed a kiss on her hand, and stood, her hand still firmly in his.