A Disgraceful Miss (2 page)

So, why did she have the urge to tell him to look to Vinedale, who had just stolen a piece of her heart?

Julian was furious. With himself.

He had given in and kissed her, something he should never have done. Ever. And not only because her father would kill him if he ever found out.

But because now he also couldn’t get the taste of her off his tongue. He’d even resorted to scalding coffee, but it hadn’t done a whit of good. Like the jasmine scent of her hair, it lingered in his memory to taunt him during the long, lonely night.

To make matters worse, he’d made the monumental mistake of touching her. Standing there in the alley, her dress damp and clinging to the curve of her breasts… Lord, he’d wanted to touch them, to roll the distended tips between his thumb and forefinger until he’d wrung a moan from her lips. He desperately wanted to know the sort of sounds she would make when loving a man. Still did.

Julian might have tried even more if he hadn’t been blinded by the pain at his temple and the ill-timed arrival of the constable and reinforcements.

There was no excuse for it, other than he’d been tormented with thoughts of her fawning over Lord Bradley Carston. The duo getting engaged, married. Having children.

As he’d stood there aching without and within, Angelica tending his wound and shivering in her thin gown, he’d been consumed by the need to taste her—just the once, so he’d have the memory of it.

Stupid, stupid man.

Now here he was trying desperately to pretend that none of it had happened and knowing it for the impossibility it was.

Angelica was not a woman to dally with, if he’d had only that in mind. She was raised to be a wife, and not one he was at liberty to choose. She was his closest friend’s daughter.

But how he wanted to. Angelica had become the one thing he desired more than the desperate peace he’d regained when he returned from India.

For so many years Julian had been alone. An orphan at seven, his distant cousin had sent him off to school rather than succor him. Eventually, Julian had turned to the military for camaraderie and purpose, and had found it for a time. Perhaps that’s why he and Daniel had become so close, despite the difference in age; they were each alone.

When Julian learned he’d inherited a peerage from that same uncaring cousin, he had got the notion to return to England and take up the responsibilities. Daniel sold his commission and trade office and together they had set out to build new lives.

Daniel had rediscovered his, with Charlotte and their daughter, Angelica. And, for a time, Julian had their joy as a new family as his own. It helped combat the loneliness, just a little. But it also illuminated the gap in his life. Julian wanted a family of his own—half a dozen children and a doting spouse.

Eventually, he’d select a wife, but he didn’t want a girl consumed with trivialities. The eligible ladies he’d met so far gave him a headache just from the time it took to complete a turn around the dance floor. He’d likely settle on a nice widow, but hadn’t found one yet to suit. Not that he’d been looking, either.

First, he needed to expunge this preoccupation with Angelica. She was more than a temptation; she was his ideal partner. Every woman he met was compared to Angelica…and found wanting.

Now it was worse, for he’d tasted her, and he was no longer certain that another woman would suffice. Angelica tasted so…right.

And what must she think of this—of him—now? She hadn’t appeared appalled by his actions—a small blessing—but neither could she have understood the impulse driving him. Should he offer her an apology or pretend the glorious kiss hadn’t happened?

He couldn’t imagine
discussing
matters calmly with her, when he’d be hard-pressed not to taste her all over again. It would be best, if not easiest, to keep his distance.

Julian sipped a brandy while the clock ticked, marking the time till he met Daniel on his rounds as escort to Angelica for the evening. He’d be able to keep up the pretense of indifference it would require. He hoped.

And that scared the hell out of him.

“There you are!” Marie-Rose Delacourt said as she slid the last couple of steps to join Angelica. “I need to speak with you.
Now
,” she said in a tone pitched low so it wouldn’t carry in the large assembly room. With several hundred people chattering and the musicians tuning their instruments, there wasn’t much to be overheard, but Marie-Rose tended toward the melodramatic.

Angelica leaned in close. “What is it, then?”

“Yes, well—” Marie-Rose took a deep breath and then the words erupted like a geyser “—Lord Bradley’s back. He’s here. Tonight.”

Her
Bradley?

It wasn’t shock precisely, nor yet the fierce patter of excitement that she had once felt at just the thought of Bradley Carston. Her fingertips went cold and her heart accelerated, yes. She had waited as he first went to university, then on the Grand Tour, and the moment now ripened with significance.

And, perhaps, a tiny twinge of guilt.

After all, she had pined for Bradley as long as she could remember, but recently she had dreamt about Julian Kenneway, the Earl of Vinedale. After the day before, how could she not?

After informing the constable of the circumstances, a thorough search of the area had yielded her empty reticule, but nothing further. With unseemly haste, Julian had deposited her into a carriage with vague assurances he’d see a physician. And then he was gone.

But one thing was incontrovertible. Julian had kissed her.

Not some civilized little peck, either, but a deep, blood-boiling exploration from which she still hadn’t cooled down. Angelica shivered, recalling the decadent feel of Julian’s lips on hers, his strong hands gripping her, the warmth of his body in that chilly alley. The fear and worry that had congealed with desire and left her weak, senseless.

She was worried about his injury, and she anxiously scanned the room again looking for him. Since Daniel had departed this morning to call upon Julian, she’d only received a brief note of reassurance. Angelica couldn’t stifle the urge to see him for herself.

“Are you all right, Angelica?” Marie-Rose chafed her hands. “Don’t faint. Don’t you dare. Oh, I knew you still had affections for Bradley.”

Angelica looked at Marie-Rose blankly. What in the world was she talking about?

“Well, fend off the swoons as long as you can,” said Marie-Rose with uncharacteristic solemnity. “There he is.”

Excitement bubbled in Angelica’s chest as she peered toward the threshold where Bradley had entered with his brothers, a veritable pride of masculinity. Bradley stood to the side, scanning the room. His brown hair curled at his collar and, with skin tinted from a foreign sun, he stood out from his brothers like some burnished, pagan god. Angelica wasn’t the only female gazing in rapt attention.

Would he remember her? Would he find her appealing now that she was grown?

“Do you think he’ll seek you out?”

Just as Angelica started to respond, something palpable shifted in the atmosphere and her pulse accelerated. Without turning, Angelica knew what it was.

Julian.

She found him across the room with her father, looking a little bored but putting a good face on things. Her heart squeezed in painful excitement at the sight of him. Since he didn’t keep his hair long, the fresh, jagged wound stood out like an angry, garnet-hued banner.

How utterly strange, to feel so very
aware
of both men. Torn between them.

When Daniel leaned over and whispered something, Julian’s entire demeanor changed and he went as rigid as a pointer, narrowed eyes affixed on Bradley.

Tension radiated across the room and Angelica felt the urge to soothe him. To walk right over and lay her hand upon his and offer Julian ease. The strength of the impulse startled her and she looked away.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Bradley Carston said, suddenly before her as if conjured by a genie. Despite the time he’d been abroad, she recognized that rich tone. It still made her a little giddy.

“Lord Bradley! A pleasure to see you again. Arrived safe from your journeys, I see,” Angelica said with as much cheer as she could muster in her confusion.

Bradley frowned slightly, his pale blue eyes glinting in the candlelight. “Lord Bradley? Why so formal, Angelica? I’ve known you since you were in swaddling clothes.”

He meant it in jest, but Angelica couldn’t suppress her ire. Did he still see her as an infant? Is that how Julian saw her?

“It’s a formal event and I suppose I’m practicing my civilities.” She extended her hand to further the illusion. “What do you think? Have I passed muster?”

Bradley smiled. “Let’s see. It’s been rather long since I’ve seen you.” Gripping her hand, he tugged it to the side as if to get a better look. His eyes skimmed her length.

Was he flirting? How very odd that felt. Angelica glanced toward Julian, but found the place he’d occupied now vacant.

“Lady Angelica, you have grown lovelier, though it seems impossible.” Bradley’s eyes twinkled, though from amusement or interest she could not discern.

“Fie on you, sir. Clearly, you’ve been too busy to notice. Rumor has it you returned to our fair shores some few weeks ago, but you haven’t hung your knocker nor left a single calling card.”

“Well, I’ve had a few obligations to see to back at Finlay. I’ve only just returned to London.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“In due time, sweet,” he said then he actually chucked her under the chin as one would a child. “You’ll be the first to know. How about a dance, instead?” The musicians were cuing the next tune, a popular country dance, and couples were making their way toward the dance floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t, pup,” Julian commanded, and Angelica jumped guiltily. Where had he come from?

Julian insinuated himself into their circle and frowned, while Marie-Rose watched the proceedings with the avid eye of a hungry hawk.

“I’ve already claimed this set,” Julian continued. “Find another young lady to partner.”

Bradley looked between Julian and Angelica as if searching for some connection. “Have you a dance open later, Angelica?”

“Well…” She fumbled for her dance card as the tension grew.

“Not on my time, you don’t. Move along,” Julian growled, the ragged gash at his temple lending him a menacing air, and then he swept her along with him toward the dance floor.

“You behaved abominably. On purpose,” Angelica said as the music began. She curtsied and passed Julian, following the intricate steps of the dance.

“Of course,” he said without a sign of remorse.

“Why would you do that?”

“He’s the one you want, isn’t he? The reason you’ve put off one suitor after another?”

Angelica nearly stumbled. How had he known?

“
Is
he the one you want, Angelica?” Julian’s eyes flashed an icy warning, and his voice dropped, carrying only to her ears. His arm brushed her as they passed, and she shivered. Julian looked unperturbed, and she wondered how that was possible when it was all she could do to maintain propriety.

“What if he is?” she said, watching Julian closely and unsure how to answer. “Do you care?”

He led her into a spin, squeezing her hand a little too tightly, but he didn’t utter another word as the music ended and she carefully curtsied. Uncertainty filled her.

For a long moment she stood self-consciously at the edge of the dance floor as other couples swept by in search of their next partners, Julian studying her as if she were a curious scientific specimen. Then, still silent, he offered her his arm.

When she placed her hand on his sleeve, he capped it with his own, then he leaned to the side and whispered, “I cannot afford to.”

As Angelica tried to sort out precisely what that meant, Julian tensed and glared over her shoulder. A quick glance revealed Bradley headed toward them, his jaw set in determination.

“But I’ll be damned if I’ll leave you to the likes of him,” Julian muttered just before he pivoted and led her in the opposite direction by the simple expedient of retaining her trapped hand.

The assembly room gardens offered quiet, darkened spots for Julian to sequester Angelica while he knuckled down on his rampant emotions.

God, it was bad enough that his libido launched into full speed whenever he was near Angelica, but add to that—dare he admit it even to himself?—the jealousy of seeing that young buck posturing for her, and Julian was ready to explode. In violence or violent lust, he wasn’t entirely certain.

As he’d hustled Angelica toward the patio, Daniel had caught his eye with a curious look but didn’t intervene. He didn’t know what that look meant and he’d just as soon not have to think about it until later.

The scrape of a shoe caught his attention, and he jerked from his musing to focus on the object of his mindless desire.

Angelica. Here. Alone with him. In the dark. His heart thundered and his cock twitched at the thought.

God help him.

“Is this truly necessary, Julian?”

Necessary, no. Inevitable? It seemed so, at least with Angelica. He shifted the evidence as unobtrusively as possible, thankful for the darkness.

“It is if I’m to keep from crushing young Carston’s nose in front of the gabbiest members of the
ton
tonight.”

“Why would you, Julian? I thought you couldn’t afford to care? Or is it that you won’t…that you
don’t
care.” He could just make out her movement as she turned away. “I vow I’m tired of feeling an outsider. With Daniel and Charlotte, I’m an unwelcome reminder of a sad past. With the duchess, I’m the dirty family secret that must be tolerated. And with you, I’m not even to be a consideration, am I?” When her voice broke on the last, Julian felt as if he’d been knifed in the gut.

Her anguish flooded him like a storm surge, more severe because he had been the cause of her pain by his foolish behavior. Julian didn’t want to hurt her, but it seemed unavoidable.

“Don’t. Please,” he said, ready to beg her not to cry, not to turn him inside-out. He felt like a wounded boar, and feared he might lash out as unpredictably. In an instinctive attempt to soothe her, he gathered her into an embrace and patted awkwardly at her back.

Angelica, however, seemed to have other plans. She fit into his embrace as if it were designed for her alone. “J-Julian?” Her voice was husky, uncertain.

Julian sighed. “I can’t care, Angelica. We can’t have…this. Not only would Daniel geld me, you deserve better than to be debauched by an old reprobate like me.” He couldn’t make out her features in the dim light, didn’t know if his crude words would be enough to awaken her sense of propriety or downright offend her.

“Is that all you’d do with me? Compromise me?”

If one could feel a smile in the dark, Julian was certain he did. He choked on a sardonic laugh. “I can barely think of much else.”

He didn’t think it possible, but she managed to snuggle closer and slip her hands about his waist.
Under
his jacket. Silent curses filled his head.

“All right, then,” Angelica said.

Julian gripped her shoulders and pushed her away.
“What?”

“I’m perfectly amenable to being compromised with another kiss. By you.”

Julian thought his heart stopped altogether. Excitement hummed in his veins like drones in a hive, and he moved, herding her until she was against the wall. Caught, trapped, subject to his whim. His cock rose appreciatively, nearly stealing his breath from the surge of raw lust. She wasn’t really his for the taking, but the illusion made his blood boil. His palms itched from the impulse to press her against the wall and claim her. Right here, right now.

Julian drew off a glove, his fingertips tingling in anticipation. Then he braced the other hand on the wall and leaned in. God, he could smell her, the musk of her skin. A thin sheen of perspiration made her glow in the pale moonlight. Was she staring at his lips?

“Do you understand what this is, Angelica? What’s between us?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were colorless in the moonlight.

“Then you know it’s wrong. We have to stop.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know any such thing. How can such feelings be wrong?”

Unable, or more honestly, unwilling to restrain himself any longer, Julian leaned in to claim her lips, and she watched with…anticipation? God, he hoped so. Just the thought that she might want this kiss as much as he enflamed him. What should have been a tender meeting of lips turned into a bold claim.

Angelica’s assertiveness surprised and delighted him, her tongue following his, a flicker of fire that fueled the inferno roaring in his veins. In his hardened erection.

The first sweep of his bare fingers to her neck tempted him to further boldness. He found the soft weight of her breast and cupped it, his thumb skimming the taut peak once, twice. The third stroke elicited a little moan and then she was arching, pushing into his hand as if to ask for more.

Julian felt hungry, urgent. Possessive.

Mine.

With the sentiment came the realization that he was done, finished deluding himself about what he wanted. It was right here in his arms. Julian couldn’t control himself around her, and he no longer wanted to.

He pulled back, lungs straining for air. Angelica blinked, her eyes heavy-lidded and lips glistening. Only then did he realize he’d been lifting her hems with his other hand. Here, in the gardens of the assembly hall with two hundred people milling about, likely to discover them at any moment. He stepped quickly away, seeking distance.

“I’m going to leave now.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “You need to return to the ballroom and your chaperon. Do you understand?”

Julian wanted to ease her crinkled brow, but he didn’t dare touch her again.

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

“You’ll go inside now, or you’ll ease my lust under a tree.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. Despite every instinct, hands on her shoulders, he turned her away.

“But—”

“Now. Go,” he said and gently pushed. “And stay away from Carston.”

Once, she glanced back with a frown then she disappeared inside.

Oh, yes, he’d see her tomorrow at Daniel’s birthday dinner. He needed to find the nerve to approach Daniel then. Surely, fortified with an after-dinner brandy and the quiet privacy of the study, Julian would be able to get the words out. He only hoped their friendship could withstand the revelation.

God help them both.