Then you would never have met Jane.
He could not imagine not knowing her. Knowing that woman existed in the world who shared his loves and passions, enjoyed study, and spoke with fervor on every subject. Who kissed with as much fire as she pursued her dreams. Nathaniel wondered if she had been dropped from heaven.
If that is the case, then I have come from hell for her.
His mood much darker than it had been before, he left the room, not eager to return to the crowded ballroom, but eager to get away from the scolding words of his own conscience.
Chapter 24
Edward had always prided himself on his keen observation skills. His father had taught him that observing people gave one a power over them. One understood how they worked, what they liked and disliked, and it always came in handy if and when he needed to use them.
That is the way to do things when you do not have as much money as you deserve. But one day, Edward, it all be yours, and you will not need to stoop to such tactics,his father had told him many times over the years.Although this is a very useful skill.
And Edward needed to use all the skills his father had taught him as he embarked upon his entrance into society. He was glad that he had taken Jane's first dance, for after that, she had been claimed very soon by that Marquess of Balwood. Then there had been two more before she seemingly disappeared.
Frustrated, Edward did his best to remain on the side of the ballroom, drink in hand so that he could both look insouciant and see everyone. He had seen the way that the marquess had looked at Jane during the dance. He had seen the way he had looked at her when he'd come to take her for the opera. No, no, this would not do.
He had no worries about other suitors in general, for he was an earl as well as family. But the son of a duke was always more enticing than anyone else, and he would have to remove this rival as soon as possible. But it didn't make his mood any better when he realized that after Jane had disappeared, Lord Balwood had also.
If he thinks that he can take her somewhere and scandalize her in order to force them into marriage, he certainly has never met me.
Edward had just been considering going to search for them when Jane reappeared first, looking flushed but in the company of a lady's maid. Lord Balwood reentered a little bit later, also looking flushed as well as frustrated. That lightened his mood.
Perhaps she has rejected his advances. She does seem the moral type as well as a woman who might be waiting for love and marriage.
He felt even better when those two did not speak to one another and went separate ways in the ballroom. Edward, keen for another dance with Jane, drank the rest of his wine and put the glass down, noticing a pretty, brown-haired young woman leaning against the wall. She had a champagne glass in hand, and she was staring using that same determined look that he had.
Only this time, her gaze seemed mixed with desire. It intrigued him. He followed her gaze to find her staring at none other than Lord Balwood himself as he spoke to a different young woman. When he looked back at the woman, she still wore that same expression. It was yearning through and through. He could spy it anywhere. A plan began to grow in his mind.
Oh yes, I may have a solution for the marquess, after all.
***
The next afternoon, Jane was in her sitting room, holding her sketchbook up and trying to sketch. Margaret was reading, and her Aunt Sarah was writing a letter in the far corner.
She was grateful for the quiet after all the noise and commotion of the ball last evening, but the silence meant that her thoughts preyed upon her. Her charcoal pencil moved across the page, but she felt as though she drew nothing good. All morning she had attempted to focus, but it had come to no avail. She could think of nothing but of that kiss in the conservatory.
Even hours upon hours later, while her pencil moved, Jane's cheeks flushed red. She kept her eyes down on the page, bringing the book just a little bit higher, hoping that neither Margaret nor Aunt Sarah would see her. They had already asked her question upon question about the ball last evening, but she had eventuallyclaimed fatigue and asked that they sit in quiet pursuit for some time.
That kiss.
When Jane closed her eyes, she could still feel like it had happened only a few minutes before. His hot, wet lips sliding over her own, his tongue touching hers. The sweet taste of him as she opened her mouth to his prodding. Jane had no idea how she knew what to do in that moment, but her body had somehow understood.
She'd fallen into that freedom and wantonness with ease and eagerness. She blushed even more, realizing she would have done far more if Iris had not appeared.
In her dreams last evening, in fact, her mind had returned to the kiss. Iris had not interrupted. Nathaniel had hoisted her up onto the balustrade, his hand sliding her skirts up over her thighs, seeking out her wet, throbbing entrance. And then she had allowed him to do whatever he wished, her cries of pleasure filling the conservatory, no doubt letting everyone in the ballroom know just what was going on.
“What are you thinking of?” Margaret asked suddenly.
Fighting back a groan, Jane lowered her book and stared at her friend. Margaret continued.
“Surely you cannot draw like that with the book so straight and held up right in front of your face.”
“Margaret, is this going to be another example of when you pretend to read but aren't really reading?”
Margaret smirked. “As you can see, my book is still lifted for me to read. I just simply happened to notice you're drawing in such an odd way.”
“What's going on?” her Aunt Sarah asked them both as she stood from her desk, and Jane threw Margaret a frustrated glare.
