A headache formed at the base of her neck as Jenna threaded her way through the throng of people. Everything passed in a blur. She gulped back the knot in her throat as she neared Stuart. “Stuart, would you mind taking me home?”
“But Jenna, we’ve only just arrived.”
“We’ve been here four hours already,” she said behind clenched teeth. “If you’ve no wish to leave, I can hire a hack.”
“Indeed not,” he gasped. “I’ll be glad to convey you home. Have you taken ill?”
She ignored the question, anxious to flee the ballroom and the cloud of anxiety that threatened to smother her. When she finally climbed into the carriage, she leaned back, closing her eyes in relief.
“Jenna, I say, you look quite pale.”
She opened one eye and looked balefully at him. “And how did you ascertain my color in the dark?”
“Well, you must be pale,” he huffed. “You were pale when we left.”
“You are quite welcome to return to the ball, Stuart. Just do so without me. I think I must have eaten something that disagreed with me.”
“Poor dear,” he said with exaggerated sympathy. “You must go straight to bed.”
When the carriage pulled to a stop in front of Jenna’s home, she was out before the footman could open the door for her. She nearly ran up the stone path in her haste to be inside.
She burst into the foyer, pulling her gloves and tossing them aside. Thomas greeted her with surprise. “My lady, is something amiss?”
“My brothers, Thomas. Have they returned home yet?”
“No, my lady. I don’t expect them until much later.”
“Good. If they should ask after me when they do return, tell them I am not to be disturbed.” She paused at the foot of the stairs. “Can you summon a hack for me? I need it in fifteen minutes.”
Chapter Sixteen
Gray sat in the darkness of the library staring into the dying embers of the fire. He felt...alone. He looked down at the crumpled note in his hand. The one that Jenna had sent informing him she couldn’t come that evening. He’d been tempted to attend Lady Lockhart’s ball just so he could drink in the sight of her, but seeing her with her fiancé would have soured the experience.
He formed a triangle with his fingers and pressed his thumbs to his chin. They couldn’t continue as before. Though several days remained until Jenna’s parents’ return, he could ill afford to get more emotionally involved with her than he already had.
With each night she spent in his arms, the more he wanted her there on a permanent basis. If only he hadn’t agreed to this whole arrangement. But even as he was preparing himself for the inevitable loss, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the nights they’d spent together.
Closing his eyes, he remembered with great detail every inch of her body. How her warm cinnamon eyes sparked when she smiled, how she ran her tongue over her upper lip when she was nervous. The glorious mane of chestnut hair that tumbled down her back when she unpinned it. How she spoke to him like he was the only person in the world.
His body quickened in response, and he cursed his overactive imagination. Rising from his chair in order to ease the growing discomfort in his breeches, he went over to the fireplace and threw in the note from Jenna. He watched as it flared up then shriveled to ashes. Just like the hope of ever having her.
The library door burst open, and he turned in surprise. Jenna stood in the doorway, her eyes blazing. “Jenna! I hadn’t expected you. That is, I received your note saying you weren’t coming.”
“How could you?” she raged as she stomped over to him. She presented a truly glorious sight, her face flushed in anger, her eyes shooting flames at him.
“Whatever are you talking about?” he asked mildly. He worked to keep a smile from his lips, thinking it would only enrage her further.
The anger in her eyes turned to hurt, and his chest lurched. “How could you tell Lady Lockhart about us? She pulled me aside at her ball tothankme for making you smile again.”
He groaned. “She didn’t.”
“Oh yes, she did!” She drew abreast of him and pounded her fist on his chest. “You know how important it is that we practice extreme discretion. If this became common knowledge I would be ruined.”
“I—”
She cut him off. “No matter that she is a close acquaintance of yours, you of all people know how gossip circulates. She makes an innocent comment to a friend, who then makes another comment to her friend. Before you know it, our exploits are plastered all over the gossip rags and it is over!”
Her bosom heaved from exertion, her face was mottled and flushed. Her finger dug into his chest, punctuating each word she yelled out at him. She was glorious, absolutely magnificent. And she clearly planned to do him harm.
