Historical Romance May 2017 Books 1 - 4. Bronwyn Scott
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‘It’ll be difficult to do both at the same time, but I’m certainly willing to try.’ He took her arm and pulled her against his chest, the merriment of the theatre enveloping them again. The strange man from before dawn was gone and her old friend was with her once more. He was warm against her bare arms, his skin moist from the spring air filling the room. It contrasted with the coolness of the sheets in the part of the bed where he hadn’t been lying. She slid closer to him, allowing his kiss to make her forget all the worries and concerns of this morning and the letter.
He laid her down against the sheets, covering her body with the delicious weight of his. She hooked one leg around his, her dress sliding up to reveal her thigh, and he clasped it with one hot hand, meeting her urgency. He slid his hand beneath the muslin of her skirt and traced the line of the ribbon holding up the top of her silk stockings.
The letter in her hand crinkled, reminding her why she’d come up here. She flung it away and surrendered to his need and hers. He was her Jasper again, tender and attentive, his body as familiar to her as her own. He belonged to her, despite his past and hers, and the distance between them from before dawn was forgotten as they melded together.
* * *
Jasper lay against the sweat-dampened sheets, the anxiety of last night and this morning driven off by Jane’s sweet caresses. He smoothed her hair and she turned to look up at him, her chin on his chest and her firm breasts pressed against his stomach. A wariness their lovemaking had banished returned to draw her lips tight. It was the same look she’d greeted him with when she’d first marched in here. It unsettled him and he reached for her to drive away her censure or uncertainty with his caresses.
He tucked one slender lock behind her ear, then cupped her cheek with his hand. He shouldn’t have pushed her away this morning. He should have confided in her, told her about Lord Fenton’s threat and allowed her sweet voice and curving arms to soothe him. But there was no reason to undermine her peace of mind by suggesting the hell and the money he made from it might be in danger. Without his income, her dream of the club and a fine life beside him, the one she’d envisioned when she’d first proposed they marry, would end. Let her be a happy wife for as long as possible, the two of them enjoying each other and the pleasures of life, not mired in all its troubles and confusions. Jasper had tasted enough bitterness in Savannah. He didn’t need it here. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘A letter arrived while you were sleeping.’
‘Not bad news, I hope?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t open it. It’s for you.’ She leaned over and snatched it off the floor, curving her back and tempting him with the roundness of her bare buttocks. Before he could do more than caress the firm flesh, she sat up, her hair falling down her shoulders to cover her breasts, the delight in her eyes dimming as she held out the paper. ‘It’s from Savannah.’
All his passion crashed to the floor.
He took the envelope. The weeks it had taken for the letter to cross the Atlantic in the musty hold of a ship had left it watermarked and wrinkled along the corners, but it hadn’t obscured the handwriting. He recognised it at once.
‘Who’s it from?’ she asked.
The distance he’d kept from her this morning returned to slap him again. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Moments ago, they’d been open and vulnerable with one another—now he intended to close off a part of himself again. ‘Maybe a land developer or merchant needs me to sign a paper. In the rush to settle my affairs, I probably forgot something.’
‘It’s in a woman’s hand.’
‘With so many dead, often widows are the only ones left to do business with.’ It was a partial truth and the best he could offer her.
‘I see.’ Her shoulders eased, but not the anxiety making her bite her bottom lip.
He slipped his hand behind her neck and drew her to him. ‘Don’t worry, there’s no woman in my life except you, not in London or anywhere else.’
‘You promise?’
‘I do.’ He swept her lips with an honest and tender kiss, then rose, despising himself and all his lies. ‘Now, I must dress. There’s a solicitor I plan to visit, one recommended by Mr Steed, who might be interested in our offer of retaining his services for our clients.’
‘Good.’ There was no enthusiasm in her word, just suspicion and wariness and it faded the glow from their lovemaking.
He tugged one finely pressed and folded shirt out of the wardrobe and pulled it on. ‘I thought we might visit the Royal Theatre tomorrow night since we’ve already seen Drury Lane. I’ve never been there. Would you like that?’
‘Yes, it would be grand.’ She didn’t sound elated.
He turned to his mirror to tie his cravat, aware of her watching him, the room shrinking and tightening under her scrutiny and his own unease. He couldn’t open the letter in front of her. There would be too many questions and answers he refused to give. He wished he had a private space of his own. With the exception of his office at the hell there wasn’t one so he endured the present tension. He had no choice.
He shrugged on his coat, eager to be free of her questioning glances and the hesitation marring her natural spontaneity. It was too much like the way his parents used to regard him whenever he left the house after dinner while tossing lies at them about where he was going. He hadn’t expected or wanted it to be like this with Jane and it hadn’t been, until today. He sat down to pull on his boots, struggling to remain cheerful and light under the weight of her presence. ‘I saw a necklace at the jeweller’s yesterday. It would go well with your earrings. Would you like it?’
‘If you want to buy it for me.’ She shrugged, her breasts rising and falling to tempt him to stay, to take her in his arms and touch the connection they’d enjoyed when they’d come together, but he didn’t. The letter and everything it meant was a wall between them and at this moment he could not overcome it. ‘Lily already thinks you’re being too extravagant and your inheritance must be larger than you’ve told everyone. I said it was. I misled them about a number of things this morning.’
‘I told you it wouldn’t be easy.’ Jasper brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, leaving his hand to linger by her face, wanting to drive away the strife clouding her eyes, but he couldn’t.
He was causing her distress, but he refused to discuss his concerns about Captain Christiansen or the reason for the letter from Savannah. It pained him to keep so many things from her, but she’d already been forced to lie to her brother and sister-in-law at the wedding breakfast, and to his sisters, and he’d noticed the anxiety it caused her. He couldn’t ask her to carry any more of his secrets than he already had.
‘And I accepted it so I have no one to blame but myself,’ she replied with a bravery her sad eyes betrayed. She did blame him because she’d guessed he wasn’t telling her everything, especially about the letter.
He tucked the missive in his coat pocket, hiding it away like he hid the story behind it. Every day they were together, he danced closer and closer to telling her the truth. He was deceiving her like he was everyone else and it hurt more than any of the other times he’d done it. He’d vowed to make her the most important person in his life and he could keep the promise. However, he hadn’t vowed to reveal his whole self to her, both the