The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4) Page 8

  He squeezed her hand. “It’s too dangerous.” There was real sorrow in his eyes as he manoeuvred them past a knot of dancers. “I dare not let you take such a risk.”

  “May I have the pleasure? Katherine has been in such demand, but I’ve not had a look-in for two days.”

  It was George, putting his large and imposing bulk between them so that Jack had no choice but to step aside if he didn’t want to have his foot trodden on.

  Katherine pretended not to mind. She’d been unwise in her dealings with her cousin before, she realised. George had the power to make her life uncomfortable, and he’d do it if he found an opportunity.

  “I’m always happy to dance with a man who knows how to lead,” she said demurely, allowing him to spin her about the room, executing some very fancy footwork.

  “You’re looking especially lovely tonight, Katherine.”

  “What happened to cuz?” she teased, hoping to ameliorate his earlier displeasure with her. “You always used to call me cousin?”

  “As you know, I feel you’re more than that. Yes, I know you don’t want to hear it but it’s the truth. I can’t help what’s in my heart any more than you can. But we can be friends?”

  Katherine couldn’t believe it. This was the most mature remark she thought she’d ever heard George make. And she did want to be friends with him.

  “Of course we can, George. I’m very fond of you. We’ve known each other our whole lives so of course we must be friends.” She spoke the last word with emphasis. George needed things explained to him more forcefully than other people did, it seemed.

  “And we shall both miss Jack. Our time together in London has been like the days of our childhood, but now he’ll be gone for a long time.”

  Katherine glanced at him to see if there was an undercurrent to his words, but he looked surprisingly guileless. George usually had a furtive look if he were testing her or planning something.

  She’d have to be very careful, Katherine decided, but was determined that nothing was going to stop her from being with Jack for his last night on English soil. She’d treasure the memory forever. Nor should her mother be surprised if Katherine returned to London for a second season. She didn’t think she had the heart to continue her husband-hunting so soon after her closeness with Jack.

  George relinquished his cousin with the usual reluctance and churning in his belly. Lord Derry was lined up to dance with her next. No doubt Mr Marwick would follow. He was in line for a viscountcy, so George would eclipse him with an earldom when Quamby fell off his perch.

  He just wasn’t sure that the title alone would do it. For the whole of George’s life, his uncle, George Bramley, had spoken so slightingly of Katherine’s mother, Lady Fenton. Common dandelion, climbing and grasping for position, were phrases that came to mind. George used to think he was so much better than Cousin Katherine, but even when they were children, he’d grow fiendishly jealous when she showed a preference for the company of Jack, the foundling. Now Jack was Mr Jack Patmore, adopted son of friends of his parents, and so, in some people’s eyes, on a more equal footing in society.

  George was glad his old friend was off to the West Indies. If he hadn’t been about to make the journey that would take him out of Katherine’s orbit permanently, he might not have found it so easy to be polite and accepting of Katherine’s predilection for his company.

  Of course, Marwick was another kettle of fish, and here he was, bearing down on George now, casting a furtive look over his shoulder at Katherine who was dancing with Lord Derry. When Marwick intercepted George’s own gaze he laughed. “She doesn’t care for you, George. Not as husband material, if you don’t mind my speaking plain, old chap.”

  George was proud of the way he retained his dignity. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because she’s going to wed me.”

  “She said so?” He glanced at Katherine, who looked as enamoured of Lord Derry as any man he’d seen her with. Bile stung the back of his throat but he managed with commendable calm, “She’s said nothing. You’re lying.”

  “I won’t be if you help me.”

  “Help you? Good God, why would I do that?”

  Marwick grinned, and in that moment George actively hated his moustache. “Because you haven’t a chance,” Marwick replied.

  “Sorry, old chap, but I have a much better chance than you. I caught some of your exchange the other evening. You’re her cousin; she’s fond of you. There’s an end to it. Whereas I…” He nodded. “It’s in the betting book at White’s.”

  “That you’ll marry Katherine?” Of course, George knew wagers were written up all the time, but this seemed somehow shocking. Katherine was the woman he loved.

  Marwick nodded. “Two hundred pounds if we’re married before the end of the season, a thousand if we elope.” He tucked his thumbs into his waistcoat. “Which means that, naturally, we must elope.”

  “Elope? Good God, you’re out of your mind! Why would Katherine elope with you when she could wed you with all the due pomp and circumstance that would accompany such a union? It’s not as if your suit would be frowned upon.” George hated to admit this last part, but it was true.

  Marwick shrugged again. “No other reason than that there’s a great deal more money in it if we elope. A title in the offing doesn’t mean a fellow couldn’t do with a bit of blunt if he can get it.”

  Rigid with moral indignation, George asked, “Do you even love her?”

  Marwick’s features softened, and he actually sounded sincere. “I adore her. The feeling is mutual. Well, it certainly was a few days ago when we enjoyed a little tryst beyond the ballroom.”

  George clenched his fists as the blood roared to his head. “She’s only just been launched. Katherine is discerning, don’t you know?”

  “Oh, I know it very well. Very unlike her mama, hence the bet which was proposed by someone who obviously felt he had an old score to settle on those grounds.”

  “Who?”

  “Why, your uncle, in fact, old chap. Mr George Bramley. He never could get over the way your aunt Lady Fenton gave him the brush-off. Now, as I’ve told you, I intend to carry Katherine off as my bride and make her the happiest woman in all England. I have a great incentive to do it soon and do it unconventionally. But I’d be grateful for your help.”

  George contemplated the matter. He wanted Katherine. He didn’t need money. But he wanted respect and if he couldn’t have Katherine, he might earn Warwick’s respect—and consequently that of his cronies— if he threw his energies into helping secure Marwick’s desires.

  He bit his lip. He didn’t want to hurt Katherine but she’d made clear how little she cared about him. So, despite a certain warring of his conscience, George inclined his head. “A wager? Yes, a wager will get the ball rolling. And you need results, soon?” He sighed. It was wrong but if Katherine had kissed Marwick, she might as well marry him. She’d made it clear she was not going to marry George. “I’ll make sure it’s a wager the like of which Boodles Betting book has never seen before,” he muttered.

  Chapter 11

  Jack opened the door with a mixture of apprehension and the greatest pleasure. He’d wanted Katherine to come. Desperately. Yet he knew that if she were discovered, they’d both pay a high price. Katherine’s, though, would be higher. He’d be leaving in the morning and sailing on the high tide the following day to a strange land, the beginning of an adventure whose pull had been so strong. Until the past two days.

  Falling in love had been decidedly inconvenient. Hearts and feelings would have to be denied but Katherine was right. One last night of stolen moments would be a memory they’d carry forever. It would sustain Jack through all the loneliness and toil and discomforts he fully anticipated would be thrown at him as he made his way in the world.

  “Oh Jack, I’m going to miss you so!” Katherine cried, before he’d fully opened the opened the door but already she was hurling herself into his arms.

  Quickly,
he closed the door behind them and drew her towards the bed. They didn’t have long, and he wanted all the closeness they could get. It wasn’t only about making love—the wicked by-product of their need for each other—but about everything. Every last whisper, caress, wistful yearnings, and whisperings. He wanted to soak it all in so he would have it forever, to treasure.

  “Not as much as I’m going to miss you,” he murmured, scooping her up and placing her on the counterpane before joining her.

  Curled up in her fine linen nightgown, she looked like a dark-haired angel.

  “Blow out the candle and kiss me,” she begged, pulling at the ribbon beneath her chin.

  “I’d rather see you.” He touched her cheek, then slowly traced his finger along her jawline and down her neck.

  She contemplated this a moment then said, “Face the wall so I can wriggle under the covers. That way I can decide what you see.” She giggled, and when he turned back, she was sitting primly up in bed with the covers drawn up to her chin. “If you kiss me, I shall let you see just a little more.”

  Jack needed no prompting. He reached forward to take her in his arms and kissed her soundly, then drew back.

  “Oh Jack, why stop?” Despite the disappointment in her tone, the hint of a smile hovered around her mouth. She dropped the covers, revealing two beautifully formed white breasts, tipped with the tiniest pink rosebuds. Jack thought he’d never seen anything so exquisite.

  “You can touch, if you want to,” she encouraged, smiling to see his hesitation. “Oh yes, please do that.” For Jack had done more than just touch. That had only ignited the need to move forward and kiss first one, then the other. And then, when he sensed how much it seemed to inflame her enthusiasm, he concentrated on just the nipple, rolling it around on his tongue and suckling, just a little, loving the way it made her squirm as she gave little squeaks of pleasure. Naturally, this was having a huge effect on him, but he was more interested in what it was doing to Katherine. He’d been led to believe that women took a more restrained attitude to bedroom activities. Clearly, Katherine didn’t, and he understood that their previous, first time, had not been as wonderful for her, from a physical point of view, as it had been for him. Tonight, he was determined, would be different.

  When at last Katherine could take no more—and neither could he—she begged him to join her beneath the covers where they stroked and fondled each other between and during kisses.

  So this would be what he’d be missing for the rest of his life. It was torture to discover something truly wonderful only to lose it.

  “I could wait for you, Jack,” she suggested when they were sated, clasped in each other’s arms, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

  “For four years? I don’t think that’s practical, Katherine.”

  “So, you don’t want me to wait for you?” She sounded hurt.

  “I want you to live your life to the full and not go into a spinsterish decline on my account.” The words made him feel too old for his years, but they were true. He reached for the candle and raised it so he could see her better. Her eyes were luminous and her lips moist and swollen from kissing him. Pain washed over him as he whispered, putting down the candle and cuddling beside her again, “I don’t want to subject you to the fate of the wives of explorers who disappear to the other side of the world, perhaps never to return.”

  She gasped and put her head on his chest. “You will come back, won’t you, Jack?”

  “It’s my intention. But I don’t know when.” He felt sad. “You know I can’t take a wife, but if I could, I’d take you.”

  She nodded, staring at her fingernails. “I’d not burden you, Jack.”

  “Lord, it would be no burden. But for some of the time I’ll be in single quarters. I’d not be allowed a wife and nor would I have the means to keep one. And I’ll be travelling constantly, at least for the first year or two. Yes, I know of fellows who pledge marriage for their return, but you can do so much better than me. We’ve only had a week to rekindle our friendship”

  “More than just friendship!”

  “Yes, of course, more than that.” Jack bit back the words that sprang to his lips. He’d not be complicit in encouraging declarations of love that would in turn burden Katherine. She was so full of vitality, and if she could love him with such enthusiasm, and so quickly, he felt that spirit should be channelled to worthier causes. Not that he didn’t consider himself deserving. It’s just that their time was not right. Katherine was seventeen years old, and about to be launched into the adult world to find a husband and establish her own household. They’d been childhood friends, and they’d found love—inconveniently, he acknowledged this reluctantly—but it was not a love that had a future.

  She was tearful as he walked with her towards the bedroom door. He held the candle aloft and bent to kiss the wetness from her cheeks.

  “If you change your mind and want me to come with you, I’d do it, Jack,” she declared.

  She was lovely. So impulsive and sincere. It would, he feared, get her into a great deal of trouble in her lifetime. Katherine had always been impulsive. But with her spirit, she’d find happiness with someone else. He hoped his greatest regret wouldn’t be losing her.

  But at least he’d leave with the sweetness of her loving on his skin and the knowledge she had the world at her feet.

  For what greater gift could he give her than her freedom?

  Chapter 12

  Katherine tried not to cry as she accompanied her mother and aunt to the lobby of Quamby’s London townhouse. Pausing on the landing, she saw Jack below, bent over his trunk, checking the leather straps that secured it were fastened firmly. With the back of his neck exposed, he seemed frighteningly vulnerable. Would he be safe when he was gone? What dangers would he encounter?

  Of course, her fears would not be shared by him. Katherine knew how much this adventure meant to Jack. Before their friendship had developed into unexpected love, he’d talked endlessly of his excitement at leaving the cold and familiar climes of their homeland to make his own way in the world. And to make his own fortune.

  When he looked up suddenly, she blinked rapidly to remove any trace of her fear or sadness. It was the least she could do: show how much she endorsed this wonderful next phase of his life.

  So, in heroic terms, she bounced down the last of the stairs, nearly colliding with Aunt Antoinette who was rounding the corner with Lord Quamby leaning heavily on his sticks.

  “Oh Jack, you’re going to have the time of your life!” she cried, hugging his back impulsively. Dressed up as cousinly enthusiasm, she could feel him close against her for these extra few seconds. When the time came for that final farewell, she must be careful not to cling.

  He straightened unexpectedly, gripping her shoulders to stop her stumbling backwards, a genuine smile of so many emotions crossing his face. Of course, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was itching for adventure. Katherine wouldn’t have expected him to. But she caught the fleeting concern, wariness, consciousness of what they were to each other.

  And told herself it was enough.

  “Be careful, won’t you?” she went on, turning to her mama. “Jack must write and tell us the exciting things he’s been up to. If I were a man, I’d go adventuring too! Not stay obediently at home doing what I’m told.”

  “You sound like you want to behave just like your mama did before she was snared by the worthy Fenton,” remarked Lord Quamby with a twinkle in his eye.

  Aunt Antoinette’s mouth quirked. “But you’re not a man, Katherine, so you have no choice but to remain obediently at home, though no doubt that’s why you can’t wait to spread your wings and have your own household. Like you so rightly said when you first came to London, marriage is the only way to be independent. And it’s the only way to behave as one wants without society’s disapproving eye coming down upon one’s shoulders. Am I not right, my darling Quamby?”

  “As always, my dear,” the earl responded as
the pair exchanged a look.

  Katherine again wondered at the foundations of their irregular marriage. Her mama had been evasive when she’d brought it up. She sighed inwardly. With so many things grown-ups didn’t tell their children, it seemed the only way to find out was to get married oneself.

  However, she was very glad she knew what to expect regarding physical relations between a man and a woman. Loving Jack had made her realise how magical it was to be united with the ‘right’ one. Tears welled up behind her eyes and she forced them back. She’d have to throw herself into revelry in the hope of cauterising the pain if she wasn’t to become a nun instead. Regardless, she didn’t think she’d find herself married in her first season.

  The carriage drew up in front of the house as George appeared in the hallway to offer his own farewell. “Safe travels, Jack,” he said, shaking his friend’s hand and clapping him on the back. “Write, won’t you? I want to hear what adventures you get up to.”

  Katherine was about to use her last bit of cheeriness to endorse this, but then Lord Fenton and Cousin George Bramley arrived and the men all clustered about, exchanging male talk, and Katherine felt excluded. And lost.

  Two footmen arrived to take Jack’s trunk, and then Jack was standing on the threshold of the wide-open double doors, and Katherine could see the carriage door open, ready to receive him.

  She didn’t think she could bear it. She was too aware of her mama beside her to rush forward and impulsively embrace Jack yet again, this time clinging as if her life depended on keeping him close. If it had been like the old days when they were simply good friends, she’d have done it, but she was too self-conscious of displaying any emotion that would give them away. So, she simply remained in line, awaiting her turn as Jack farewelled each of her relatives with either a handshake or an embrace.