Only Marriage Will Do. Jenna JaxonЧитать онлайн книгу.
affect him thusly. The argument did not persuade him in the least. Something about Lady Juliet called to both his noble nature and his baser needs. A dangerous combination for a man in need of a wife.
After he stripped off the rest of his clothes, he continued his vigorous washing then toweled himself dry. Not much effort needed there, with the night so uncomfortably warm. He pulled the covers all the way down and lay naked on top of the sheets, willing his mind and his aroused body to desist. It took a devilishly long time to do so.
In the flickering light of the room’s one candle, Amiable stared at the ceiling, hoping that coming to the aid of this damsel in distress hadn’t been the worst mistake of his life.
Chapter 6
Next morning, after passing a long, restless night, Amiable stood in the middle of the small bedchamber and finished tying a serviceable knot in his cravat. A tap at his door and he opened it to find Glynis sinking into a curtsey.
“My Lady Juliet—” She grimaced. “Beg pardon, Captain. Mrs. Dawson asks will you join her for breakfast this morning?”
He grinned at the invitation. However, the maid’s unintentional lapse gave him concern. “Of course. Please tell Mrs. Dawson I would be delighted to join her in a few moments.”
Glynis paled, then nodded and scurried down the hall.
His emphasis might have hit its mark. Even such small inconsistencies could spell disaster for Lady Juliet. He moved back to the small mirror hanging on the wall. He wanted to be turned out as well as could be expected without a manservant’s care. A pity Parker had elected to remain in the colonies, and his father’s man, Edwards, who had come to London with him, had been too old to attempt this journey. He must engage a new valet as soon as he completed the adventure.
The image in the glass just passed muster—after he adjusted the cravat once more—and he twisted his neck, studied his hair, neatly tied back with a simple black ribbon. He reached for the ribbon, bent on pulling it free and retying it, then caught himself.
“Fool!” Dropping his arm back to his side, he turned from the mirror. “You are preening like the worst peacock imaginable.” He hastily donned a coat of dark gray uncut velvet over his silver waistcoat and black leather breeches. They were taking a meal together, nothing more. Still, he took time to settle the garment over his shoulders so it hung correctly and resisted the urge for one last look. He shut the door and strode down the hall to Juliet’s room.
At his knock, Glynis opened the door and he entered.
Juliet already sat at the small table, platters of meat, eggs, and bread cozily arranged between two place settings. She smiled and her eyes seemed to sparkle, although it might have been the sunlight reflecting off the china. “Good morning, Captain Dawson.”
“Good morning, my dear.” He seated himself and smiled with caution. The sight of her fresh face, beaming over the breakfast dishes, sent a pang of longing through him. If he could make a wish for his future, this scene would be it.
He tore his gaze away from her and grasped his teacup. These fancies were ridiculous. This time yesterday, he hadn’t even met the woman who sat across from him, daintily moving a fork laden with a bite of ham and egg into her mouth.
Her mouth. Dear God, a luscious, red, perfect bow that begged to be kissed. She chewed slowly, the small circular movements a sensual treat beyond belief. If they were married, he would look like a scarecrow before long from watching her eat while his own food lay rejected on the plate.
Amiable clenched his left hand and laid it on his lap. He would gain control of himself. This obsession was becoming embarrassing. He must make an end of it.
“Did you sleep well, Captain?” The lilt of her voice blew through him like a hot wind.
“Tolerable, my lady. I trust you slept well after your—” His mouth dried like dust. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, haunted by thoughts of her and that damned bath.
“Tolerable also, Captain,” she broke in, blushing. “Will we press on immediately after breakfast, do you think?”
The abrupt change in topic might indicate her awareness of his thoughts. God, why had he brought up that almost lewd exchange from last night?
“I think it best we do not tarry. We are still close enough to London that St. Cyr might pick up the trail.”
Her face paled and she clutched the silverware in her fist.
He’d not meant to alarm her, but she sat trembling, her food quite forgotten. What had the man done so the merest mention of his name would cause such a reaction? Why would she be so terrified of him when she had been willing to marry him a year ago? He peered into her woebegone face. He’d have to let it go—for the moment.
“I will make sure he doesn’t come near you, Lady Juliet. Trust me.” He patted her hand. An electric shock streaked through him—like one of Mr. Franklin’s lightning rods—striking him dumb.
Her eyes flew open wide and she jumped.
He snatched his hand away, his skin tingling as though burned. Hair stood on end all over his body. He breathed heavily, struggled for control. When he could meet her eyes he asked, “I beg your pardon, Lady Juliet. Did I hurt you just then?”
Her gaze slid away from his. “No, Captain. I felt no hurt from your touch.” Her voice had an odd, high pitch.
He watched her take a deep breath then manage a crooked smile. “You had better eat, Captain, if we are to be on the road ere noon.” She sipped her tea, composure returning.
Best take her advice. With an effort, he concentrated on forkfuls of eggs, although remembrance of that touch crept into his thoughts once more. First her mouth, now her hand. Would he ever eat heartily again? He downed the rest of his tea and rose.
“I’ll make sure Roberts has the carriage ready, and see to the bill.”
“Captain Dawson, I insist on paying for our lodging.” She stood as well, her mouth firming into a delightful pout. Such a determined little thing.
“It will look odd, Lady Juliet, if my wife takes care of the bill.” He stifled a grin at her sulky look. Did she always get her way? “We can discuss the financial arrangements later. If we are to make an early start, I must go now.”
She nodded.
Not totally unreasonable then. He caught her gaze, warm eyes the color of dark honey. A man could willingly drown there. A short bow and he left before he got into even more trouble.
* * * *
As soon as the door shut, Juliet laid her head on the table, too weak to sit upright. What had this man done to her? Turned her world upside down in less than a day. Lord, what he will have done by the evening?
She rose, doused her handkerchief in the washbasin and mopped her face. If Glynis saw her hot cheeks, she’d think something amiss. Something called Amiable Dawson. The burning in her face could be the result of the memory of their final bit of conversation last night. She would never take a bath again that she didn’t think of it.
Or it stemmed from the brutally intense shock that had shot through her when he’d touched her hand. Thank heavens she’d been too stunned to cry out. Even now, his hand seemed to linger on hers, like a phantom’s touch. She shivered and went to supervise the packing, determined to hang on to her wits. Not an easy task since any proximity to Amiable seemed to addle her brain.
She gave instructions to Glynis then set about repairing her appearance. She removed her shawl, donned a wide-brimmed straw hat over her pinner and assessed herself in the mirror. They would be riding together for hours, so she wanted to look her best. No reason not to offer him something pleasing to the eye.
Her ribbed silk gown, a gold and floral meander print, was cut stylishly low at the bosom, although Glynis had just handed her a fichu to fill the breech. Well, such things could