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‘About my business?’ The lights in his eyes deepened. ‘And what exactly is my business?’
She moved to the next stage. ‘Unhand me, sir.’
‘My hand is off you.’ His fingers hovered above her waist, and somehow it was worse because her body ached to have the small caress. ‘You are free to go.’ He leant forwards so his forehead touched hers. ‘But before you do, Louisa, do you think about what we experienced together? How your lips felt against mine? At night when you lie in bed?’
‘Never,’ Louisa breathed. Her heart thudded so loudly in her ears that she thought surely Jonathon must hear. It bothered her that she remained attracted to him, but that had always been her problem. Even the first time she had seen him, her pulse had beat faster. This was simply an echo from the past. Everything to do with being this close to a man for the first time since … since the last time she had been with Jonathon.
She swallowed hard and grasped her reticule to her bosom. It was not the same. She had changed. She knew the pain men were capable of inflicting on her soul. She knew why the rules existed. She had learnt her lesson well. ‘You have vanished from my mind.’
‘You were always a poor liar, Louisa.’
Before she had a chance to move away, he lowered his mouth and captured hers. The kiss was designed to evoke a response—small nibbles at her mouth, swiftly followed by a more lingering meeting as her lips gave way to temptation.
Louisa’s backbone melted as small tongues of fire leapt from his hand to her skin. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders and she remembered how Jonathon had once run his hands through it, proclaiming it softer than silk and infinitely more precious. She knew she should stop, but her body luxuriated in his touch.
Abruptly he released her and she stumbled away from him.
‘Is that the best you can do? Seek to dominate me with the physical?’ Louisa automatically began to straighten her gown, but she knew her chest rose and fell far too fast. ‘I never think about such things. They have vanished from my mind.’
A smug look appeared in his eyes. ‘We are far from finished, Louisa. We have only just begun, and this time, it will end when I say it does.’
Louisa paused with her hand on the door. She gave him a quelling look. ‘I decline your offer of marriage. We would not suit.’
‘You should wait until you are asked, Louisa.’ His face became all planes and shadows.
‘Then I decline whatever you are offering.’
Louisa pulled the door open and slammed it behind her. Never again would she return to being that woman who melted at the slightest touch from Jonathon. That woman no longer existed. She had died when they had prised her baby daughter’s lifeless body from her. Born too soon, the baby had failed to draw even a single breath. It had been a judgement from God and she would do well to remember that.
* * *
‘I want this letter in the first post,’ Jonathon said, handing the sealed note to his valet.
‘Very good, my lord.’ Thompson gave a bow and left Jonathon alone in the library of his Newcastle town house on Charlotte Square.
Jonathon swirled the untouched ruby port in his glass. His stepmother would come to Chesterholm and she would bring his half-sister Margaret. Before he confronted Venetia over Louisa, Jonathon wanted to make sure that Margaret could not be held as a hostage. If Venetia was prepared to lie about Louisa’s death when he lay injured in order to further his relationship with Clarissa, Jonathon knew that she would not hesitate to arrange a marriage that Margaret might not desire. He had a duty towards his sister. Margaret deserved her chance to find love.
What to do about Louisa Sibson and her reappearance in his life? She denied the passion that had existed between them, but it was there, and this time she would stay until the passion burnt out.
Even the last few remaining coals in the fire mocked him, echoing the colour of Louisa’s hair. She was here and alive, utterly unrepentant and utterly desirable. How many times had he longed for Louisa’s return, if only for a few minutes, if only so he could whisper that he was sorry. He gave a wry smile. His nurse used to say it was never good to get what you wish for.
His mind returned to the early days after the accident when he had asked for Louisa to see if Clarissa’s overly pat tale of woe had any substance. Clarissa had been there, competent and efficient, the perfect nurse, alongside Venetia. And each time he had asked, her frown had increased. He clearly remembered the exchange—why is he asking for that governess?—and his correcting shout—my fiancée. And his stepmother had patted Clarissa’s arm and told her not to worry about the baggage before forcing more of the damned laudanum down his throat.
He reached forwards and gave the fire a stir, making the coals glow bright orange.
Louisa should have trusted him. What more could she have desired from him? What further proof had she wanted? He had asked her to marry him, to run away with him.
He tapped his fingers together. His late great-uncle was fond of quoting Eros’s explanation of why he left Psyche—there can be no love without trust, but there can be desire—to say why he had chosen to be a bachelor. Jonathon had never understood the saying until now.
And what of her future plans? Her marriage plans? Did she love this baronet, Francis Walsham, whom she had dangled in front of his nose? Debrett’s only listed a solitary name, a man old enough to be Louisa’s grandfather, but wealthy. Had she ever kissed Walsham the way she kissed him? The very thought made him want to tear the man limb from limb.
Jonathon took another reflective sip of his port. And why had she returned to England if she intended on marrying? What was there for her here?
‘Forgive the late-night interruption, Chesterholm, but you are my only hope.’ Furniss burst into the library. ‘My need is a matter of life and death.’
‘How so?’
‘Did you know tonight was the first time that I have seen Miss Sibson flustered? She nearly forgot her reticule in her haste to inform Aunt Daphne of her decision to go. Her reticule goes everywhere with her. Her lifeline, she calls it. Something has unnerved her. She plans to return to Sorrento as soon as she can find passage on a steamship.’ Furniss put his hands to his head. ‘This is bad, bad, bad. Miss Sibson is notorious for her schedules.’
Leaving. Running. From him or from her desires? But she would fail to escape. This time, he knew she was alive.
‘And why should I be able to help you?’ He gave a light laugh that sounded hollow to his ears. Furniss fancied himself in love with her. Jonathon ground his teeth. How many bloody admirers did Louisa have? ‘I have no power over Miss Sibson’s movements.’
‘Aunt Daphne is here in the north-east to visit her childhood haunts.’ Furniss’s ruddy face became alight. ‘Then she is returning to Sorrento where Miss Sibson plans to marry Sir Francis Walsham. Previously Miss Sibson promised to stay until Aunt Daphne was ready to go back to Italy.’
‘You are making no sense, Furniss.’ Jonathon forced his tone to be light as a surge of jealousy cut through him.
‘I intend to marry Miss Sibson,’ Furniss continued blithely on. ‘I will have no chance if she returns to Sorrento and her baronet. Here, in England, I do.’
‘You want to marry Miss Sibson? Has she agreed?’ Jonathon stared at his friend, furious that Furniss had not bothered to confide in him. Tonight’s farce could have been avoided.
‘I am certain my late aunt would have approved. Why else would she have left Miss Sibson the money?’
‘Why indeed? Perhaps she liked her.’ Jonathon shook his head as a primitive urge filled him to proclaim that Louisa was his. Furniss was a far more dangerous rival than the far-off baronet. Furniss had youth and a genial manner on his side.
‘You are my last hope.’ Furniss settled down into the red armchair opposite and poured himself a glass of port. ‘I thought and thought about how I could make them stay.’
‘I knew Miss Sibson a long time ago.’ Jonathon gave an exaggerated yawn. As if he would provide information to a rival! Furniss was on his own. ‘I can provide no insight.’
‘Not Miss Sibson. I know all about Louisa. We met months ago in Sorrento.’ Furniss gave a little wave of his hand, missing the cut-glass decanter by a hair’s breadth. ‘I have devoted time to studying her, her ways and how her mind works. She keeps her cards close to her chest, but I think there must be some secret sorrow in her past. She always changes the subject.’
‘You did?’ Jonathon tightened his fingers about the glass as a white-hot rage shot through him. His friend had known Louisa was alive and had known for months. The time he had wasted. ‘Why are you not engaged? You are both free.’
‘There was my dear mama to think about.’
‘What does your mother have to do with it?’
‘Mama would put poison in Miss Sibson’s tea if she could. Mama only went to Sorrento because she was convinced Aunt Mattie was going to leave her fortune to her. In the event, she only received a few pieces of jewellery.’ Furniss lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder. ‘Mama feels Miss Sibson exerted an undue influence on my late aunt.’
‘Do you?’
‘There are reasons why my father prefers to live at his club. Mama should never have made disparaging remarks about Aunt Mattie’s cameos. It is her own fault she lost the inheritance. But, regardless, I will get no help from that quarter.’
‘What does this have to do with me?’
‘Your Uncle Arthur collected cameos. It came to me in the carriage and Aunt Daphne’s eyes sparkled when she mentioned him. Perhaps there was a connection.’
‘I can’t help you, Furniss. I know of little connection between the Misses Elliots and Uncle Arthur. He did not hold women in very high standing.’ Jonathon stared at the fire. Furniss was right. There had to be a way of keeping Louisa here, rather than letting her run to ground in Sorrento. ‘But if I think of anything …’
‘I knew you would help, Chesterholm.’
‘I promise nothing.’ Jonathon tapped a finger against his mouth. ‘But Miss Sibson will not be going to Sorrento.’
Chapter Three
‘The concert was a splendid outing. I am so pleased Rupert suggested it. It was just the tonic. I do declare Rupert is far better away from his odious mother, don’t you agree?’ Miss Daphne said, while Louisa poured the late-night cups of hot chocolate. ‘You are going to reconsider going back to Sorrento. Given encouragement, Rupert might… It would do my heart good to see you settled.’
‘We have seen everything we came to England to see,’ Louisa replied carefully. Tomorrow, she’d go and book their passage back. Marriage to anyone was not in her plans. Tomorrow, she would keep to the strict letter of her rules. Tomorrow she would remember what was important in her life—her future rather than her past. ‘We have already spent longer in England than we planned.’
‘But why the immense hurry? Only this morning, you appeared content to reside here a bit longer.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about, Miss Daphne.’
‘Suddenly you are frightened of staying in England, Louisa. Why the change? There might be things I still wish to see. And my nephew’s fascination with you grows. He is not up in Newcastle simply to pass the time of day with his old auntie. I predicted as much in Sorrento last spring.’
‘You read too much into his attention.’
‘And you read too little, my girl.’
Louisa regarded the chocolate pot for a long moment. One of her favourite Italian rituals was drinking hot chocolate just before bed. Miss Daphne preferred to have heaping spoonfuls of sugar, but Louisa liked it with the barest hint of sweetness. There was a certain something about the way the chocolate tasted—smooth and rich, reminding her to take joy in the small pleasures rather than looking for castles in the air.
Tonight all the hot chocolate did was serve to remind her how easily her present life could be destroyed if she was not very careful. She should never have kissed Jonathon back. She had grown beyond the naïve girl who thought his kisses showed his devotion.
‘Nothing about England frightens me,’ Louisa said, placing the silver spoon down. ‘Sir Francis expects me to return and give him his answer.’
‘Poppycock. That man is a puffed-up popinjay. Mattie could not abide him and his airs.’
‘She respected his opinion.’
‘On cameos.’ Miss Daphne leant forwards. ‘Sir Francis is closer to my age than yours. You want a young man to warm your bed, Louisa. Trust me on this.’
Louisa took a delicate sip of the chocolate. Miss Daphne seemed to have an uncanny way of knowing if there was an attraction between a couple. This evening’s kiss had been about the past, an aberration, and had nothing to do with her present or, more importantly, her future. ‘Nevertheless he expects an answer.’
‘It was good to see young Jonathon looking so well.’ Miss Daphne reached for the sugar bowl. ‘Particularly after his accident a few years ago.’
Louisa froze. Until this evening she had not even realised that either of the Misses Elliots knew Jonathon.
‘You know about the accident,’ she said slowly.
‘Mattie liked to keep up with the doings of Arthur Fanshaw and his relations, or at least she used to.’ Miss Daphne gave her a sharp look. ‘After you arrived, she had a new enthusiasm and rarely spoke of them. I was pleased at the time that she had finally come to terms with her heartache, but now I wonder.’
Louisa swallowed hard. Miss Mattie knew the full story about her past, but had never mentioned it. ‘Curious. I … I had left the household before the accident. The first I heard of it was today. Miss Mattie never said anything to me.’
Miss Daphne set her cup down. ‘Did Mattie know of your connection to the Ponsby-Smythes?’
Louisa raised her head and met the elderly lady’s gaze full on. ‘Yes, she did. I explained about my past when the doctor introduced us.’
‘She will have had her reasons.’ Miss Daphne frowned. ‘Old scandals can return when you least expect it. People’s memories are long, but I think you are being overly cautious, my dear. There is no need to go back to Sorrento with your tail between your legs, and accept a proposal that you will regret for the rest of your life. We can keep to our new schedule.’
Louisa reached for the sugar bowl and added another spoon of sugar to her chocolate, before she carefully stirred. The result was far too sweet, but it helped to steady her nerves. ‘Perhaps, but I do not want anyone to say that I was wicked.’
‘Who would say that?’
‘Your niece Honoria. She might say that I exerted undue influence on Miss Mattie before she died. I never knew Miss Mattie intended to leave me the money.’ Louisa had never asked for the inheritance. It had come as a complete surprise. Both Miss Mattie and Louisa had shared a common fascination for all things ancient. Under Miss Mattie’s tutelage, Louisa had become an expert on cameos and Miss Mattie had considered Louisa the best person to maintain her collection.
‘Mattie loved you like a daughter. She also gave Honoria and that solicitor of hers a piece of her mind. You need not fear. You will have no problems from my niece. Mattie made sure of it. Mattie liked to take care of all contingencies and I trusted her.’ Miss Daphne reached out her hand. ‘But I think I deserve to know what happened with young Jonathon and make my own judgement. You want to run away from me because of it.’
‘What happened to me, happened years ago. It is a depressingly old and familiar tale.’ Louisa attempted a smile. ‘I learnt my lesson. Believing a gentleman who promises the moon leads to disappointment. Miss Mattie agreed with me.’
‘I want the story and not the aftermath. The aftermath I know. What passed between you all those years ago?’
Louisa swallowed hard, considering how to tell her tale. She had been an impressionable twenty years old and had thought her fairy tale was coming true—a handsome prince who married for love instead of duty. She should have seen the warning signs—the bored rake home from London, the seduction, and then her giving in and believing him when he had promised to return with a licence to marry her. Mrs Ponsby-Smythe had dismissed her without a character reference when rumours had reached her ears. Then, three months later, she had discovered that she was pregnant and had gone to Mrs Ponsby-Smythe’s, searching for Jonathon, and had discovered about the impending marriage between Jonathon and Clarissa. When on the voyage to Naples, she had fallen ill with a high fever and the baby had been born too early—a beautiful little girl with translucent skin and jet-black hair, perfect in every way, except she never breathed. A large part of Louisa had died that day.
‘Miss Daphne, he is part of my painful past, not my future.’ Louisa put her hand over Miss Daphne’s withered one as she finished the story. ‘But you can see why I must return to Sorrento. I do not want any rumours to soil your skirts.’
‘No, no, that would be giving into the pompous society prigs without a fight. You must stay.’ Two pink spots appeared on Miss Daphne’s withered cheeks. ‘I can fight. I am unafraid and I stick by my true friends.’
‘I know.’ Louisa smiled back.
She valued Miss Daphne’s friendship. It was why she had agreed to this trip and why she knew she would stay until Miss Daphne wanted to leave, but it was unfair to ask Miss Daphne to fight those sorts of battles at her age.
Louisa knew she had made a mistake, and some day she would stop paying for it. She leant forwards and banished tonight’s kiss to the further reaches of her mind. Her reaction was an aberration brought on by suddenly seeing him again. Now that she was prepared, nothing like that would ever happen again.
‘I am no fool and will not make that mistake again.’
‘You are certain of that?’ Miss Daphne’s eyes took on a knowing gleam. ‘I have some knowledge of human nature, Louisa, despite being a spinster. Men seldom look at women like Lord Chesterholm looked at you if they are uninterested.’
Louisa concentrated on gathering up the cups and saucers, arranging them neatly on the tray, ready for Jenkins, the butler, to remove it, rather than meeting Miss Daphne’s knowing gaze. ‘Miss Daphne, you are beginning to speculate. Speculation overheats the blood as Miss Mattie was wont to say. A woman can learn from her mistakes. I learnt from mine.’
‘Hmm, but what are his intentions now? I have often found men with fascinating eyes can make a woman forget her lessons. And Lord Chesterholm has some of the most fascinating I have seen in many a long year.’
‘Your eyesight must be mistaken.’ Louisa focused on the cups and tried not to think about Jonathon’s preposterous suggestion that he had a claim over her. She was not an object. Miss Daphne’s eyes assessed her for a long moment but Louisa looked back unblinkingly. Finally Miss Daphne turned away.
‘I accept you want to believe that, Louisa.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Please ask Cook to make iced buns for my At Home tomorrow.’
‘Iced buns?’ Louisa frowned. Miss Daphne never served teacakes at At Homes. The women had a cup of tea or coffee, but never iced buns. The whole procedure was shrouded in tradition, even on the hottest days in Sorrento.
‘I am expecting callers, gentlemen callers. You did make an impression, Louisa, even if you wish to deny it.’ Miss Daphne tapped the side of her nose. ‘And if I am right, tomorrow’s At Home will be highly productive. One must fight fire with fire. And then, Louisa, when it is all done, we can go home with our heads held high.’
Miss Daphne swept out of the room.
Louisa stared at the dregs of her hot chocolate, turning the conversation over in her mind. It made a sort of sickening sense. Miss Daphne expected Jonathon to appear alongside Lord Furniss. Louisa reached for the poker and gave the coal fire a final stir, sending an arch of flame into the air.
All she knew was that she could not remain in this drawing room like some scared rabbit, waiting for Jonathon to appear. She had stopped running years ago. Jonathon deserved to learn a lesson in civility and she looked forward to administering it. Miss Mattie would have approved.
‘Miss Daphne,’ Louisa called on her way to bed, ‘the At Home will go splendidly tomorrow. I can feel it in my bones.’
The clock on the mantelpiece was only a few minutes away from twelve. Last night in bed, Louisa had dreaded that Jonathon would arrive bright and early, but now she dreaded that Miss Daphne’s premonition was wrong. The sole callers were a Mrs Blandish and her two daughters.
Once the At Home was finished, she would confront Jonathon, corner him and force him to back down. He would cease to threaten her or her good name.
Louisa risked a breath and tried once again to concentrate on the conversation between Miss Daphne and the younger Miss Blandish, a conversation that appeared to have Miss Daphne enthralled beyond the bounds of propriety. The conversation appeared to revolve around Miss Nella Blandish’s exploits with a gang of murderous thieves earlier that summer in Gilsland.
‘And now my former governess, Miss Milton, is married to Viscount Ravensworth,’ Miss Nella Blandish finished with a triumphal clap of her hands. ‘I received the letter this very morning. And the entire marriage is thanks to me.’
‘That is quite enough, Nella.’ The elder Miss Blandish gave a prolonged sniff and toss of her blonde curls. She would be pretty if she did not look so bored with the proceedings. As it was, Miss Blandish reminded Louisa of Clarissa Newton—beautiful, but self-absorbed. ‘We all understand that we were not invited to the wedding.’
‘Lord Ravensworth procured a special licence, rather than having a society wedding,’ her mother said with a thoughtful expression. ‘It is how a governess can come to marry a viscount. Personally I never thought Daisy Milton had it in her, but it turns out she was an heiress all along.’
‘Daisy Milton?’ Louisa said, sitting bolt upright, all thoughts of ending the visit fled. ‘Daisy Milton, who has a sister Felicity and a young niece?’
‘That is correct. Do you have a connection?’ Mrs Blandish raised her lorgnette and proceeded to minutely examine Louisa.
‘Daisy Milton is an old friend of mine, but I had no idea that she was even engaged. Let alone entangled with jewel thieves.’ Louisa put her hands to her mouth. She dreaded to think how Daisy had coped. Daisy had based her entire existence on keeping her reputation spotless. ‘I look forward to receiving her latest letter.’
‘Indeed,’ Mrs Blandish said, settling herself against the sofa’s cushions. Her tone implied that Daisy might not have time for such an acquaintance now that she had been elevated to a peerage.
‘You do seem to be hearing news about your old acquaintances, Louisa dear,’ Miss Daphne said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘And here you thought you would not have any connection to Newcastle.’
‘Do you know someone else?’ Miss Blandish asked, suddenly becoming animated. ‘Is it someone we know? Someone in society?’
Louisa inwardly seethed. If only Miss Daphne had had the sense to remain quiet. People had long memories and there was no telling what Mrs Blandish might have heard and how the tale had been twisted. Daisy might even have inadvertently told Louisa’s tale. It bothered her that less than twenty-four hours after encountering Jonathon, she was tempted to return to that naïve girl who looked to others to solve her problems.
‘I … I …’ Louisa began. ‘That is to say …’
Miss Elliot rocked back and forth as if she were no older than Miss Nella Blandish. ‘The fourth Baron of Chesterholm did Louisa the honour of renewing his acquaintance last evening.’