Unveiled (Undone by Love Book 3) (13 page)

He’d been going through the motions, meeting the debutantes and assessing their wifely potential
. His efforts had been met with success. He’d been deemed ‘mysterious’ and ‘aloof,’ both desirable qualities to the silly girls of the
ton
. Yet only one had captured his reluctant attention.

Miss Dorothea Upshaw
. She was brighter than most and attractive enough, suitably accomplished and impeccably bred. She’d made it perfectly clear that her attentions were driven by the desire to secure an advantageous match, and he admired her sensibility. Not a half hour ago, he’d thought her well suited.

And then Jane had to go and dispel the illusion
. He’d felt nothing more than bland satisfaction as he’d held the child-like Miss Upshaw in his arms, nothing like the fierce fire that raced through his veins as he held Jane. He peered curiously at her face, her eyes downcast, her lashes casting shadows across her cheekbones. Her brow remained furrowed, her lips pursed. No doubt she was angry with him, and he hadn’t any idea why.

“Perhaps you’ll sate my curiosity and tell me why you’re so angry with me?”  

“I’m not angry,” she said with a shrug. “I’m just surprised to find you here.”

“Indeed?”  He’d been equally surprised to see her
. He could only wonder why Tolland hadn’t seen fit to inform him of their arrival. “Might I remind you that I’m only here, forced to endure the dreaded ‘marriage mart’, because you refused my suit?” 

“And how relieved you must be
. You certainly looked as if you were enjoying yourself.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.”  He hadn’t been enjoying himself, not in the least
.

“With Miss Upshaw
. The Season’s
Incomparable
, I’m told. What good fortune I
did
turn you down.” 

He froze, his blood beginning to boil as he stepped back from her
. She was confusing the hell out of him and he didn’t like it one bit. He’d given her a fair chance, after all, and she’d thoroughly rejected him. Yet here she was, acting like a spurned lover. She knew he sought a match, after all. He’d made that quite clear. “What is it you want from me, Jane?”

“Miss Rosemoor,” she ground out
.

“Pardon me?”

“Please do not address me so informally, my lord. It’s ‘Miss Rosemoor.’  And people are staring.”

Indeed they were, but he didn’t give a damn
. “Very well,
Miss Rosemoor
.”  He reached for her arm and led her off while the orchestra played on. He bowed stiffly before turning on his heel and stalking away from her, leaving her standing alone on the edge of the dance floor.

Jane stood frozen in utter and complete shock as she watched Hayden disappear through the gaping crowd.

“Miss Rosemoor,” Lord Mandeville said, stepping in at once
. He took her arm and led her back amidst the dancers where they picked up the waltz without missing a beat. “Dare I ask what just transpired?” 

“I’m not quite certain myself,” she muttered
.

“I’ll have a word with Westfield
. There’s no excuse for treating a lady so grievously, and in such a public forum.”

Her gaze snapped up to meet his at once
. “No. I’d prefer if you said nothing. In his defense, I spoke rather sharply to him, something I seem to do frequently in his company. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, insufferable man,” she added with a scowl.

“He’d best have a care; Lucy’s fit to be tied
. I sincerely hope he doesn’t manage to cross her path again tonight. I don’t presume to know much about the ways of women, but I would suggest that perhaps you smile, as everyone is looking your way right now. No use in fueling the tabbies.”

He was right
. Jane responded by smiling brightly, tipping her head back and laughing as if Mandeville had just told her something most amusing.

“Good girl,” he murmured as the music ended at last
.

Jane continued smiling gaily as she laid her hand in the crook of his arm and followed him back to Lucy amidst a hum of whispered speculation
. Hadn’t they anything better to do, the gossips?

Back at Lucy’s side, Jane’s confidence was instantly bolstered
. “I’ll explain it all later,” she murmured to her friend in response to Lucy’s questioning gaze.

“I certainly hope so,” Lucy replied
. “It’s all I can do not to throttle the man myself. Whatever was he thinking?” 

Jane looked up as Emily hurried over to her side, a frown on her face
. Was the news of her slight traveling so quickly?

“Jane, dearest, I heard what happened
. I can barely believe he’d do something so abominable, and to my own cousin. Shall we take our leave?”

“No, there’s no need for that
. In fact, I plan to thoroughly enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“Good for you, Jane,” Lucy said, nodding in agreement
. “And what lovely timing, too. William Nickerson is headed your way.” 

“Is he, now?”  Jane couldn’t help but smile as the one man who’d almost tempted her into marriage strode to her side and bowed.

“Lady Mandeville, Miss Rosemoor. What a delightful surprise. I had no idea you were in Town, Miss Rosemoor.”

“I only arrived a few days ago, with my cousin, Mrs. Tolland.”  She gestured toward Emily
. “Emily, I present Mr. William Nickerson, a very old and dear friend of mine. Mr. Nickerson, my cousin, Mrs. Cecil Tolland.”

“A pleasure, Mrs. Tolland,” he replied, bowing his fair head in her direction
.

“It is, indeed,” Emily answered.

“Miss Rosemoor, will you favor me with a dance?”

“Of course,” she answered, taking his arm with a smile
. There was nothing unsettling, nothing disturbing or frightening whatsoever about agreeing to dance with Mr. Nickerson. She felt safe in his arms, secure. She was only glad they had remained on friendly terms since her refusal of his marriage proposal. She briefly wondered how he’d managed to remain unattached all these years. He was handsome, charming, a gentleman in every respect.

Once on the dance floor, she reached for his hand with a smile
–a smile that quickly vanished. Over Nickerson’s shoulder, she watched as Lord Westfield claimed his own partner.

Miss Upshaw, of course
. Inwardly, she groaned.

Averting her gaze, Jane smiled up at her own partner as she followed his lead
. She tried her best to avoid watching Lord Westfield from the corner of her eye, but it was no use. She could physically feel his presence each time he neared–a magnetic pull that made gooseflesh rise on her skin, made her cheeks burn. Even through the cacophony of music and voices, she could distinctly make out his deep voice and Miss Upshaw’s lilting laughter. Was he deliberately edging closer? She felt her temper rising.

Minutes later, Nickerson pulled her from her thoughts with an easy laugh
. “Tell me, Miss Rosemoor, are you still committed to the notion of remaining unmarried?”

“I’m afraid so,” she answered
. “If anyone could have swayed my firm resolve, it would have been you, Mr. Nickerson. Nothing has changed on that count.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”  Lord Westfield was definitely moving closer, she was sure of it. Just to irritate her, no doubt.

“Well, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, it seems you can’t take your eyes off Lord Westfield.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”  She shook her head, the heat rising in her cheeks. Had she been so obvious?

“Oh, I think you do,” he answered good-naturedly
. “Hayden Moreland, the Earl of Westfield. I heard what happened earlier tonight, and I can’t help but wonder.”

“Wonder what?” she bit out, more sharply than she intended
.

“Why, if he’s tempting your resolve
. If he’s succeeding where I could not.”

“I assure you, my resolve is as firmly in place as ever
. I’m not so easily trifled with.”

Nickerson grinned down at her
. “Perhaps someone should warn him, then. He’s positively simmering with jealousy at this very moment, even while he holds the lovely Miss Upshaw in his arms.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m feeling a bit reckless tonight. Perhaps I should hold you closer.”  He did just that, pulling her dangerously close.

Jane couldn’t help but smile
.

“Hmmm, maybe not.”  He slackened his hold on her
. “He’s a good deal larger than me, after all. I
do
value my limbs.”

“Come now, Nickerson, you’re teasing me
. Hasn’t anyone told you it’s cruel to tease a spinster?”

“I wouldn’t dare tease you, Miss Rosemoor.”  His eyes danced mischievously
. “Especially with such a powerful and, I might add,
enormous
man glowering at me. You’d best put your heart under lock and key. I fear you may lose it at last.”

Jane threw back her head and laughed
. “I assure you my heart is safe from the likes of Lord Westfield.”

The music ended, and Jane stepped back from her partner, right into something solid
. “Oh, pardon me,” she said, spinning around. She sucked in her breath as she raised her gaze to Lord Westfield’s brooding glare.

Refusing to be cowed, she turned back to her partner with a practiced smile
. “Perhaps I could use a breath of fresh air, Mr. Nickerson. It’s decidedly stuffy in here.”

“Of course,” he replied with a slight bow, offering her his arm
.

Without a backward glance, she followed him out, feeling Lord Westfield’s gaze boring through her as they made their way across the ballroom
.

Only once they’d reached the doors did she dare turn, searching the crowd for him
.

He stood just where she left him, his dark head bent toward Miss Upshaw’s fair one
. She almost stomped a slippered foot in frustration as she watched him whisper something into the girl’s ear and then pull her into his arms for the next waltz. He’d already engaged her for two dances–as many as propriety allowed. Wherever was the girl’s chaperone?

“Shocking, isn’t it?” Nickerson murmured, his gaze following hers
.

“Indeed,” she answered, feeling decidedly old and irritable
. She was no longer a young debutante, no more the darling of the
ton
. She reached one hand up to her temple, surprised to find that the realization bothered her so.

“Some air?” Nickerson asked.

Jane could only nod in reply.

Chapter 11

“Hurry now, Jane
. You’ll be late.”  Emily waved her hands toward the door.

“Are you certain you won’t go
? Lucy will be sorely disappointed.”  Jane was loath to leave her there alone, fearing another bout of despondency threatened her cousin’s fragile state.

Emily smiled
. “I’m certain, dear Jane. It’s nothing more than the headache. I could use a quiet evening at home. Please go, and enjoy yourself. The gardens are said to be lovely this time of year.” 

Indeed they were
. Jane longed for the entertainments at Vauxhall. Still, she worried over leaving Emily. But then a disturbing vision of Cecil prowling about Vauxhall’s secluded lanes flitted through her mind. She shook her head resolutely, her mind made up. She would go.

An hour later, their party settled themselves into their supper box
. The meal was lively and festive, the accompanying music delightful.

As soon as the remaining bits of ham, tiny capons, assorted biscuits and cheese cakes were cleared away, Cecil stood and reached for his walking stick
. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll take a brief turn. It’s a lovely evening.”

“Isn’t it?” Jane added, quickly rising to her feet
. “If you haven’t any objection, perhaps I might join you.”  

She saw his eyes darken as he offered his arm
. “Of course.” 

“Make certain you return in time for the fireworks, Jane.”  Lucy waved a hand at the sky
. “You get a much better vista here than out on the walks.”

“Of course.”  Jane placed her hand in the crook of Cecil’s arm as she followed him out
. They strolled aimlessly for more than a half hour, their conversation held to a bare minimum. They traversed the length of the elm-lined Grand Walk, then over the Cross Walk and finally to the South Walk. At last Jane began to feel a bit winded, and she looked around for a place to rest.

Spotting an alcove ahead, she tilted her head toward it
. “Perhaps I might sit and rest a moment.”

“Of course,” Cecil replied, leading her to an ornamental bench where she sank gratefully
.

He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his brow
. “I say, Miss Rosemoor, you do look a bit peaked.”  He scowled as he stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. “In fact, you look frightfully pale, if I might say so. You must remain here and let me fetch you a lemonade.”

“No, there’s no need.”  She shook her head
. “I’m perfectly well.”

“Oh, but I insist
. I fear I’ve allowed you to overexert yourself. However will I face Emily if you fall ill because of my carelessness?”

“I assure you I am well
. You cannot leave me here–”

“It will only be for a brief moment,” he interrupted
. “I promise to return at once with a lemonade. You look as if you sorely need one.”

Jane lost her desire to argue with the irritating man
. Whatever his true intention, the idea of a moment of quiet solitude suddenly pleased her. She did not object again as he strode off, back in the direction from which they had come. Surely he would do as he said and return promptly.
Wouldn’t he
? A shadow of doubt flitted across her consciousness.

The night was unseasonably warm and she reached for her fan, flicking it open with one sharp movement of the wrist
. She looked up to the sky then lowered her gaze to her immediate surroundings where the silvery moon cast a metallic glow across the greenery. Absently, she began to stir the air before her. The strains of the orchestra filled the warm night with its rich tunes, and she felt herself tapping her toes. Several couples strode by, no doubt headed for the darker and more secretive Lover’s or Druid Walks. Ah, to be young and in love. Jane couldn’t help but smile at their boldness. For a moment, she closed her eyes and breathed in the rich, earthy scents around her, the air redolent with the first blossoms of summer.
Whatever was taking Cecil so long
?

She heard approaching steps, far too brisk and purposeful to be those of a lady, and she looked up from her fan, thinking the errant Cecil had returned at last
. Her heart leapt in her breast as she took in the familiar figure headed her way instead, his looming shadow perfectly outlined in silver moonlight.

Lord Westfield
.

She twisted her torso away from the path, raising the fan to her face
. Even as she shrank into the alcove’s shadows, she couldn’t help but peer over the top of the pleated silk as the footsteps hurried by her at a brisk clip. Her heart beat wildly, mimicking the rhythmic tapping of his boots.

And then he paused
.

Jane held her breath as he stood motionless, not twelve feet away, his back to her
. Her breath let out in a rush as he slowly but deliberately spun around, as if he sensed her presence. Even in the dim shadows, she could see his gaze trained directly on her. She lowered her fan to her lap.

Several seconds passed before he spoke
. “Miss Rosemoor? Whatever are you doing there, cloaked in shadows?”

“I was out for a stroll with Cecil,” was all she could say in reply.

“And where is he now? Do not tell me he has left you alone?”  As he moved silently toward her, she could see the firm set of his jaw.

“I thought I was being so clever, forcing my company on him to keep him from mischief
. It seems he found a way around my watchfulness.”

“Indeed
? And what excuse did he find for depositing you here and disappearing?”

“A lemonade, my lord
. He went to fetch me a lemonade. Quite some time ago.”

“I’ll break his neck when I see him.”  He balled his hands into fists by his sides, and for a moment Jane feared he might do what he threatened
.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably
. “Yes, well, until that time, perhaps you’ll escort me back to our supper box? I’ve come with Lord and Lady Mandeville and they must wonder where I’ve disappeared to.” 

“Actually, I’ve just come from their box myself
. It seems Lady Mandeville has taken a notion to dislike me. I cannot for the life of me fathom why, as we’ve only just met.”

Jane arched a brow
. “Can’t you?”

Understanding lit his eyes, and he smiled ruefully
. “Hmmm. The Falmouth ball?” he offered. “My abominable behavior?”

Jane nodded.

“I suppose I further piqued her ire just now, talking politics on a night like this. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is
. So, Lord Westfield, Mandeville tells me you are a political ally. What are your feelings on the Combination Acts? Will you vote to repeal them?”

Now it was his turn to quirk a brow
. “A lady, interested in politics? Most unusual.” 

“I think you’ll find I’m unusual in many respects, my lord.”  She wasn’t a simpering miss like Miss Upshaw, for one, she thought acidly
.

“There’s no doubt of that, Miss Rosemoor
. Suffice it to say I’ve never before met your equal. Although,” he said, scratching his chin, “I wouldn’t be surprised to find that Lady Mandeville comes close, should I have the opportunity to know her better.”

Jane laughed
. “Wherever do you think I pick up my revolutionary tendencies? You’ll never meet a lady as keenly intelligent and accomplished as she.”

“Then I suppose I must apologize to you at once for my boorish behavior at the Falmouth ball
. And, of course, you must convey to Lady Mandeville that I’ve done so.”

“She won’t be satisfied by an apology made simply to gain her favor
. No, it won’t do at all, I’m afraid, Lord Westfield. You must try harder.”

He looked at her with a mischievous grin, then dropped to one knee, clutching her hand to his breast
. “My dear Miss Rosemoor, you must accept my most earnest, most heartfelt apology for treating you as unspeakably as I did at the Falmouth ball.” 

Jane reached a hand up to stifle a giggle
.

“But you see,” he continued, “I confess that your very presence alone sends all rational thought and gentlemanly behavior out the window, as you might have already noted.” 

Jane found herself laughing aloud. “Do get up. What if someone were to see you?”

He dropped her hand and rose to his feet, towering over her once again
. “Does that mean you accept my apology?”

“Yes, of course
. Anyway, Lucy was angrier at you than I was. I’ll admit to my role in provoking you.”

His face was all seriousness now
. “Admit to nothing. My behavior was inexcusable, and no fault of yours. In all seriousness, I hope you will forgive me.”

Jane’s gaze dropped to her slippers
. She nodded silently, suddenly unable to speak.

“Thank you
. Now, to answer your question, yes, I’ll vote to repeal the Combination Acts, not that I have strong sentiments about the Trade Unions. Like Mandeville, my concern lies mainly with social reforms, namely education.”

Jane nodded
. “I confess I was a bit skeptical at first of Mandeville’s convictions toward educating the street urchins. After all, in what manner can we educate them? ‘The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things.’  How can you accomplish that in London’s roughest neighborhoods?”

Lord Westfield stared at her, his brow furrowed
. “Did you just quote Plato?”

“Of course.”  She shrugged
. “But after listening to Mandeville’s arguments, I’ve concluded that it’s worth trying. As to the street urchins, pickpockets and the like, ‘For if you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?’  Therefore it’s our responsibility, wouldn’t you agree, Lord Westfield?”

He blinked and shook his head, but said nothing in reply
.

“Lord Westfield?”  She peered up at him curiously
.

“Sir Thomas More.”

“Yes,
Utopia
. Have you read it?”

“I have
. What amazes me is that
you
have.”

“Why shouldn’t women have the equal education of men
? ‘If women are expected to do the same work as men–’”

“...’we must teach them the same things.’ Plato again.”

A smile spread across Jane’s face. “Yes. Oh, I realize that women aren’t truly expected to do the same work, but still...”  He was studying her face intently, his mouth slightly agape. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You are, without a doubt, the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met,” he replied, his tone almost reverent
. Jane felt a blush creep up her neck. She rose and stood before him, waiting for him to offer his arm.

Instead, he peered down at her curiously, his brow furrowed and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth
. Only when he reached for her shoulders did she realize her mistake. She’d held the handle of her fan to her lips, a blatant request for a kiss.

She backed away from him, shrugging off his hands as she shook her head
. “You must excuse me. I’m not myself tonight.”  She silently cursed her carelessness, her foolishness. Whatever made her do such a thing?

High above them, a spot of white light zigzagged across the sky, erupting into a starburst of twinkling light that drifted down toward the treetops
. When the last light faded into nothingness, his eyes sought hers, and she met them with equal determination.   

“Come with me,” he commanded, holding out a hand to her.

Without thought, she took it. Her heart soaring, Jane hurried beside him, her hand clasped in his.

Brilliant displays of color lit the sky, one after another, as they raced down Druid’s Walk
. Slowing his pace at last, he ducked behind a row of hedges, pulling her with him into the most shadowed, secret place. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms as a burst of fireworks fell from the sky above them. She could see the purple points of light reflected in his face, in his eyes, as his mouth descended on hers, taking it roughly, possessively.

The explosions of color and sound above only fueled her desire as she yielded, opening her mouth to meet his, kissing him with a hunger she didn’t recognize
. She felt her knees buckle as his tongue parted her lips, teasing her own with light flicks before plunging inside. She stumbled back, pulling him with her against the trunk of a sturdy, old oak.

Her heart accelerated, echoing the booms from above, as his hands coarsely moved down her bodice, across her breasts, her stomach, around to cup her bottom in his grasp
. It felt as if her skin was afire, burning with an unfamiliar, terrifying heat.