Читать книгу Every Time We Kiss - Christie Kelley - Страница 11

Jennette shoved her pins into her reticule, thrust some money inside, too, and then strode from her bedroom. She had to do something with this anger eating her from inside and there was only one thing that would soothe her frustration: shopping.

The image of Matthew’s face as he entered the dining room with a smiling Amelia Sheldon on his arm had kept Jennette up all night. She should be ecstatic that they both seemed so pleased with each other. Happy, even. The last thing she should be was overwhelmed with tension and frustration.

“Are you ready, miss?” Molly asked as Jennette entered the salon.

“Yes,” she answered back harshly.

Hopefully, her maid would understand that she had no desire for conversation today. Jennette climbed into the carriage, then sat back and waited for the usual calm that settled over her when she shopped. Picking at the fingertips of her gloves, she wondered just how long it would take peace to come to her.

This annoyance was illogical. He had done exactly what she’d wanted him to last night. Amelia’s reaction to Matthew, however, had surprised Jennette. She thought of Miss Sheldon as shy and retiring, not alluring with that secret smile of hers. And she was the epitome of what Matthew had said he desired in a woman.

Curiosity picked at Jennette’s inquiring mind. Did Matthew call on Amelia today? For all Jennette knew he could be at the Sheldons’ home right now having tea and biscuits, making polite conversation while he courted her.

Therefore, Jennette should be pleased with herself, not about to rip off the tips of her gloves. She did not love the man. She never had.

But there was something about him.

Something tempting that made her think wicked thoughts she shouldn’t about him. Lurid thoughts about what he looked like without his shirt. Was he as muscular as he appeared? Or had he taken to padding the shoulders of his jacket, as did so many men? She highly doubted he had.

Closing her eyes, she pictured his chestnut hair and thought about what it would feel like to her fingers. Soft and silky? Thick and coarse? And his lips…would they feel as wicked against hers as they had that morning? How could the memory of that ever-so-brief kiss have stayed with her all these years?

Thankfully, the carriage slowed to a stop on Bond Street before her mind went further down that disquieting road. She and her maid walked down to the draper’s with a footman following closely behind them. She put Matthew out of her mind and concentrated on what she’d come for today.

A little bell rang as she entered the shop. Bolts of cloth lined the small room.

“Lady Jennette, how wonderful to see you again,” Mrs. Greenwood announced.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Greenwood. Did you get the fabric I wanted?” She had no time for polite conversation with the amount of items she needed today.

“Of course, wait here.” Mrs. Greenwood went to the back of the store and returned carrying a bolt of forest green velvet.

Jennette removed her gloves and caressed the soft fabric. “This is beautiful.”

“It will make a lovely gown for you.”

“I will take it all.”

Mrs. Greenwood’s mouth dropped. “All of it, my lady?”

“Yes.” She would need all that fabric for what she had in mind.

While Mrs. Greenwood wrapped the cloth in paper to keep it clean, Jennette wandered the room looking at all the fabrics. She would miss Mrs. Greenwood’s shop. The woman could find any fabric Jennette ever wanted. Mrs. Greenwood handed the bolt to the footman, who hefted the cloth over his shoulder.

“Good day, Mrs. Greenwood,” Jennette called as they departed for the next shop.

After a trip to the cobbler’s and then a stop for gloves, hats, and stockings, Jennette had finished. With the footman and Molly weighed down, she carried four of the boxes herself. Just able to peer over the top of the teetering boxes, she walked down the street toward the carriage. Several people smiled or laughed as the group ambled forward.

Approaching the carriage, she noticed a man standing nearby. As she tried to get a better look, her hat blew in the wind, half-covering her eyes.

“Allow me,” the deep voice said.

One by one, the man lifted the boxes out of her arms until she could finally move the offending hat out of her eyes. And then she saw him.

“Busy day, Lady Jennette?” Matthew inquired with one brown eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

He watched with disdain in his gray eyes as the footman placed all the boxes into the carriage. “I’d always heard the rumors of your shopping but thought they were largely overstated. I can see I was wrong.”

“I think you are vastly mistaken, my lord.”

He turned toward her and bowed. “I can see that I am not. Good day, Lady Jennette.” And then he was gone, striding down the street as if she’d done something wrong.

“Mat—” Jennette quickly covered her mouth realizing how that might sound if she were overheard using his Christian name. “Lord Blackburn!”

But he never turned back. Bloody stupid man, she thought. She’d been known to shop in excess for herself but what harm did that cause? Banning had been more than generous with her allowance and now with her grandmother’s inheritance, she need not worry about money. She could never spend it all if she tried.

Besides, she only used shopping as a method of calming herself at times. Of course, her bad habit had started almost exactly five years ago. After what she’d done to John and then hearing the rumors about Matthew, she’d needed something to do. Painting and shopping were her only options.

As she sat in the carriage, she realized just how much she missed painting. When she and her mother moved into Avis’s former house after Banning’s wedding, Jennette had never unpacked her canvases and paint pots. She’d told her mother there wasn’t enough light in any of the rooms. When in truth, there seemed no point as she would be leaving for Florence in three months. And now her departure was only weeks away. Once she arrived and settled in, she would take up painting again.

This restless energy was driving her mad. The image of Matthew’s scornful face as he helped her with her packages just wouldn’t go away. She needed to talk to someone.

After getting the attention of her driver, she said, “Please take me to Miss Reynard’s home.”

Sophie would understand Jennette’s need to have a friend listen without solving her problems, as Avis and Elizabeth would attempt.

Sophie’s lips twitched but she quickly gained control over her desire to smile. Things were progressing nicely so far. Jennette’s reaction to Blackburn was exactly as Sophie had hoped when she’d seen the vision of him.

“He wouldn’t even let me explain,” Jennette complained for the second time. “He just stormed off.”

“Well, the man is having financial difficulties, Jennette. Surely you can understand that he might be envious watching you spend money without a care.”

Jennette slammed her teacup down. “It most certainly wasn’t without a care.”

“I realize that but he only knows what he hears about you from others. And you do have a reputation for fashion.”

“Of course I do. But I am not much different from most of the other ladies of the ton. And at least I am now spending my personal money, not that of my father, or brother or husband.”

Sophie desperately wanted to laugh. Poor Jennette looked so put out by all this. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Lady Cantwell is having a dinner party. I’ll deliver everything after Elizabeth’s literary salon tomorrow night.”

Lady Cantwell was due here for a tea reading in an hour. Sophie smiled. The tea leaf reading was bound to tell her that Lord Blackburn must be invited to dinner or something dreadful might happen.

“You are welcome to join us tomorrow night for the salon,” Jennette added with a smile. “You know we love your company.”

“Perhaps, but not all of Society agrees with that sentiment. I am quite the thing as long as I stay in my place and don’t venture into your world.”

“Regardless, come along,” Jennette pleaded. “I could use the support. I have a very strange feeling about introducing Susan Whitmore to him.”

“Why are you introducing him to Miss Whitmore if you believe he might be happy with Miss Sheldon?” Sophie watched Jennette’s reaction with a smile. Her friend’s face tightened, her hands fisted, and a deep frown brought her eyebrows downward.

“Because there is always the possibility that he and Miss Sheldon won’t suit. Or her father might decide not to let Blackburn court his daughter.”

“Very well, then. What has you so concerned about Miss Whitmore?” Sophie asked softly.

“She and her mother were too agreeable. They know all about him and were willing to put aside his reputation for an introduction.” Jennette frowned. “It makes no sense.”

“Hmm, I haven’t heard of any rumors regarding the girl. Perhaps after three Seasons, they feel Blackburn would be their best option before she’s on the shelf.”

“I just cannot believe that, Sophie.” Jennette reached for her teacup. “He is not received and therefore anyone he marries takes the chance that she will be scorned unless her reputation is sterling.”

“What do you think is the reason, then?”

Jennette looked away. “I fear she might be with child and trying to trap any man she can.”

“Very well, then. I will attend and I’ll try to perform a reading on her.”

Sophie picked up her teacup and sipped as she thought. Getting Jennette and Blackburn together might be more difficult than she’d imagined. She needed an accomplice in this mission. Someone who knew them both. And as much as he would hate her for asking again, there was only one perfect man for this mission.

“I can usually sense a pregnancy. May I bring a guest with me tomorrow?”

Jennette’s black eyebrows rose in question. “Of course. Anyone I might know?”

Sophie smiled. “Yes, but just a dear friend of mine.”

Matthew couldn’t help the frown from forming on his face as he picked up a glass of sherry from the refreshment table. Lady Cantwell’s invitation to dinner shocked and pleased him. He had no idea how Jennette managed to wrangle an invitation out of the oldest and most eccentric matron in the ton. But he supposed he would have to thank Jennette for it.

After seeing the truth of her shopping habits thrown in his face this morning, he had no desire even to speak with her. John had told him that her father and brother spoiled her. Her actions today only confirmed his assumption that she was frivolous and spoiled.

He watched her as she spoke with Lady Cantwell. Jennette’s blue eyes flashed with what looked like anger but she smiled at the older lady. Lady Cantwell glanced over at him and then back at Jennette. Finally, Jennette nodded.

Lady Cantwell moved away from Jennette and ambled toward him. The older woman pressed heavily on her cane as she walked. He had no idea how old she was, but he would guess somewhere in her mid-eighties.

“There you are, my boy,” she said as she reached his position. “I wanted to welcome you to my little party.”

Little party? There had to be at least fifty people here tonight. His own dining room wouldn’t seat half these people.

“Thank you, my lady,” he replied and then bowed over her ancient hand.

She tilted her head and sized him up. “Perhaps the gossips have been wrong about you.”

“Oh?”

“I see nothing that would make you unwelcome amongst us. In fact, I believe somewhere beneath that scoundrel mask is a gentleman.” Lady Cantwell made her declaration and moved on toward another guest, her cane tapping a slow rhythm as she left.

“She is a widow. Perhaps you can charm her in the next two weeks.”

Matthew slowly fisted his hands. “Good evening, Lady Jennette.”

“Lord Blackburn,” she replied with a nod. “However did you get invited here?”

He whipped around to face her directly. “What do you mean? You arranged this, not me.”

Her eyebrows rose. “No, I had nothing to do with your being here.”

“Then…how?”

She shrugged and smiled as if trying not to laugh. “Maybe Lady Cantwell is after another husband.”

“Do be quiet,” he whispered. He glanced at her burgundy-velvet gown and wondered if it was part of the collection she had bought today. “Fetching dress, by the way.”

“Thank you. I do hope no one notices that it is last year’s style.”

“I’m quite certain no one but you would notice such a thing.” Try as he did, he couldn’t keep the bitter tone out of his voice.

“Then you really do not understand women, my lord.”

“Of course I do.” He took a sip of his sherry before continuing, “God forbid you wear a gown more than once. Heavens, someone might remark about it!”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “You pompous, arrogant…man.”

“Spoiled, little b—”

“Well now,” Lady Selby came up to them both. “I do believe I need to speak with you, Jennette.”

Jennette’s eyes flashed at him. “Avis, I think we can talk later. You are interrupting my conversation with Lord Blackburn.”

Lady Selby smiled at both of them as she hooked her arm with Jennette. “Yes, I am, before you two cause a bigger scene than you already have.”

“Oh, please, Avis. How many times did I break you and Banning apart from your arguments?”

Lady Selby’s lips twitched in obvious humor. “Yes, you did, many times. And see how we ended.”

Lady Selby looked over at Matthew with a little smirk. Oh dear God, he thought. The woman probably thinks he and Jennette were arguing because of deep-seated desire for each other. Complete and utter nonsense, he thought. After seeing Jennette’s true colors today, he would squash down any ardent feeling he might have for her.

The only thing he needed Jennette to do was find him a bride. Any woman would be a better option than the frivolous, self-absorbed woman walking away from him.

Jennette stood next to the potted palm with her arms over her chest in what she knew was a very un-ladylike posture. And she did not care. She wasn’t spoiled.

“Lady Jennette, please at least try to look like you are enjoying my party.”

“I apologize, Lady Cantwell.”

The older woman leaned on her cane and then scanned the room until her gaze landed on Matthew. “He is a—”

“Pompous, overbearing, arrogant—”

Lady Cantwell’s cackle interrupted her tirade. “I was about to say a handsome devil. Handsome not in a pretty way, but with an air of danger about him. He reminds me a little of my third husband. Now he was a man….”

“Lord Blackburn? Hardly. His hair is highly un-fashionable. He could almost put it in a queue. His clothes are wrinkled and at least two years out of date.”

“Lady Jennette,” Lady Cantwell started, “I do believe Lord Blackburn should escort you into the dining room.”

Jennette’s mouth gaped open. “I—I—”

“I am the hostess of this little gathering.”

“But, Lady Cantwell, he is the man who killed my betrothed,” she argued.

“Accidentally, if my old memory serves.” Lady Cantwell’s brown eyes flashed with something akin to humor. “It is far past time for that incident to be buried.”

How could Lady Cantwell find anything about this situation amusing? “Yes, it was an accident. Still, most people don’t understand that and—”

“And you shall do exactly as this old lady tells you, miss.” Lady Cantwell smiled and patted Jennette’s hand. “Stop worrying about what other people think of you. Life is far more enjoyable that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jennette closed her eyes as Lady Cantwell slowly walked away.

“I was told in no uncertain terms that I am to escort you into dinner.”

She opened her eyes to see Matthew staring down at her with contempt in his eyes. “Yes. She informed me, too.”

“Shall we?” He held out his arm to her.

She nodded and linked her arm with his. Inhaling the tangy smell of sandalwood, she shivered.

“Are you cold?”

Unable to tell him that his nearness caused such tumultuous feelings in her belly, she nodded. “It is a chilly night.”

“Yes, it has been a dreadful year for weather.”

At least the weather was a safer topic of conversation than her shopping habits, or his overly long, chestnut hair. She had to get her traitorous desires under control. Why couldn’t she have felt this way about John? He at least had loved her. Matthew didn’t even like her. He thought she was nothing more than a spoiled brat. At least she hoped he’d been about to say brat and not the other “b” word.

“So I hear there is to be a literary salon at Lady Elizabeth’s home tomorrow night,” he said while they walked down the hall to the dining room.

“Yes.”

“Very good.”

“Is it?” Jennette asked with a strained tone to her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed quite pleased with Miss Sheldon last evening. Did you call on her today? Do you plan to court her?”

He glanced over at her with a strange little smile and her cheeks burned. She sounded like a jealous shrew.

“So many questions.”

“You could try to answer one of them,” she replied tightly.

“Then the answer is no.”

“No, you didn’t call on her? Or no, you don’t plan to court her?”

“No, to both questions.”

“You are the most frustrating man I have ever met,” she mumbled.

They reached the dining room and strolled around the table until they found their name cards. Right next to each other. Matthew pulled out her chair and waited for her to take her seat.

He moved to the chair on her right. She greeted the others near her, attempting to ignore his masculine scent. Several people glanced down the long table at them. Most of them had pity in their eyes at her plight.

She did her best to keep her conversation with Lady Caroline, who sat to Jennette’s left. But with every bite she took, her gaze slid to him. She couldn’t help but notice everything, from his long fingers gripping the fork to the smile he gave Miss Colbert.

A shiver raced down her arm when he accidentally brushed up against her shoulder. She hated these feelings she had for Matthew. Why couldn’t she control her reaction to him? No man before him had ever made her feel so off-centered.

Not even the man she was supposed to marry.