Читать книгу Regency Collection 2013 Part 1 - Хелен Диксон, Louise Allen, Хелен Диксон - Страница 40

How much longer could he keep her here in his arms like this? Not long, not safely. Jack rested his cheek on Lily’s head and closed his eyes. Against his body hers was warm and soft. He could feel her heart beating and her breath tickled his neck. He thought the scent of her skin would never leave his memory.

‘Lily.’

‘Mmm?’ Jack felt her lips move against the front of his shirt and fought down the need to seek them out again with his own.

‘Time you were in bed.’

‘Mmm?’ This time there was a decidedly mischievous note in her voice.

‘Your own bed, by yourself,’ he added firmly, wondering which of them was most in need of the reproof.

‘Jack?’ Her voice was muffled. ‘Jack, don’t you want to … to …?’

‘No.’ Yes, oh, God, so much. Yes.

‘I don’t think I understand. You did not—I mean, I know what happens when a man lies with a woman, and that was not it.’ Ah, that’s my Lily. Questions and more questions until you get to the bottom of things!

‘It is one of the things that can happen. One of many things.’

‘Oh.’ There was a hint of worry behind the monosyllable. Jack pushed the weight of her hair back from her face in an attempt to see her face, but Lily burrowed against him. ‘Am I still—’

‘A virgin? Yes.’

‘Oh.’ He could almost feel her thinking. ‘Good. I think.’

‘Definitely good.’ He had to tell himself that. And assuredly he would be thankful for it in the morning, if his body ever stopped screaming at him for release. He reached down and smoothed her skirts back over her legs, trying not to look at the naked whiteness of her thighs, the elegant curve of her calves.

There was a sigh so deep he thought it stirred the hairs on his chest, despite his buttoned shirt. Lily uncurled herself and sat up, hairpins falling to the floor as she did so. In the firelight her eyes glinted, but he could not read the emotions in them. ‘We had better find all of these before the housemaid does,’ she remarked prosaically, sweeping her hand across the carpet.

Jack sat back on his heels and began to search too. ‘What about your maid? Will you have to wake her to unlace your gown?’

‘Yes.’ Lily frowned at the handful of pins. ‘I wonder if there are any more of these. Janet will just think I have let down my own hair, especially if I take off my jewels as well.’ She swept her hand across the woollen pile again and their fingers touched. Lily moved her hand until they intertwined. ‘Jack, I am sorry.’

Hell. Guilt hit him in the belly. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel ashamed of what had just happened.

‘I should not have behaved like that when you are too much the gentleman to take advantage of me.’ She bit her lip and looked him in the face. ‘I know perfectly well what would have happened if you had been Adrian.’

He closed his fingers hard around hers. ‘You did nothing wrong, other than to trust me. The blame is mine. It will not happen again.’

‘I will always trust you.’ She got to her feet, her hand still clasped in his, and he stood too. ‘Give me those pins. We had better see how the back door is secured.’

Lily hopped down off the stool, gave the garden door a last shake and went back to the salon for one final check. All seemed orderly and innocuous. The fire was smouldering safely behind the fire screen, the brandy glass was back on the tray, and one pearl pin glinted on the carpet. She stooped and picked it up.

What a strange, wonderful, evening. Lily picked up the branch of candles and shut the door. She had behaved with complete impropriety, she knew that. Inside she felt warm with the knowledge that she had been right to trust Jack, and guilty to think she had taken more, far more, than she had given. And yet, he had seemed content. Perhaps he was simply so much more secure in himself than Adrian was that he did not have to take in order to be happy. Perhaps, this time at least, simply making her happy was enough. And she was happy, happy with a bone-deep physical contentment that overwhelmed all her mental anxieties.

How many women fell in love and found out too late that they could not rely on the man, as she knew she could upon Jack? Then, as she reached her chamber, reality rolled back out of the rosy mist she inhabited. What had just passed between her and Jack was all that there could be. He would go back to his mine, far away. She would continue with her social whirl until she found a titled husband whom she could tolerate, and thus fulfil her duty.

Lily sat down in front of her dressing-table mirror and began to unhook her earrings and unfasten her necklace. The pearls slid over her skin in a sensual whisper as the double rope uncoiled. Could she ever be touched by a man again without remembering Jack’s caress, the way his hard hands were so gentle on her body?

‘Miss Lily?’ She jumped. Janet emerged from the dressing room, pulling her wrapper tight and yawning. ‘You should have called me, Miss Lily.’

‘I thought I might be able to manage without disturbing you.’ Lily stood up and let the maid begin to unhook the fastenings of her gown. A hair pin fell out. ‘I made a complete mull of taking down my hair,’ she confessed. ‘I was fiddling with it in the salon just now and it all came tumbling down. I have probably shed pins over half the house.’

‘Never mind, Miss Lily,’ Janet said comfortably, lifting the heavy silk skirts over Lily’s head. She set the gown down and rapidly counted the pile of pins Lily had put on the dressing table. ‘Ten, and the one I’ve just picked up. That makes eleven. There ought to be twelve. I’ll warn the parlour maids. That’s a pretty set, we don’t want to lose one of them.’

Lily tossed aside her chemise and petticoats and dragged on her nightgown. She had never felt bashful about undressing with Janet in the room. Now she was so conscious of her own body that she felt sure she must be one rosy blush from head to toe. Should she still throb and tingle like that in places she had hardly been aware of before—and would certainly never have considered it modest to have thought about? And yet Jack had caressed her there, brought her the most delicious pleasure with a touch, and she had felt not the slightest glimmering of shame.

‘Will there be anything else, Miss Lily?’ The maid shook out the undergarments and draped the gown over her arm.

‘No, thank you Janet. Just snuff out the candles as you go, please.’

On the landing the clock struck a quarter-hour. Quarter past two? How long had she and Jack stayed together in the salon, locked into that private dream world? Lily snuggled down under the covers and thought about Jack. Was he too trying to sleep, or sitting up working on those complex plans and calculations that littered his work table? Or perhaps he had gone straight out again, to find an obliging Cyprian and take his pleasure with her. She stiffened at the thought of the betrayal, then forced herself to be fair. Why should he not? He was a grown man, and, unlike her, had no tie of affection to prevent him. For Jack, taking another woman would be no betrayal at all.

Lily was heavy-eyed at breakfast, toying with her toast and earning a sharp enquiry from her aunt about what she had been up to the night before to put dark circles under her eyes.

‘I danced too much, that is all. And then when I got home I was too restless to sleep, so I sat up in the salon for a while.’ She flicked open the pages of the Morning Post, pretending an interest she did not feel in a report of a debate on trade in the House of Commons.

‘And Mr Lovell escorted you?’ Now how did Aunt know that?

‘I invited him to, but he had to join me there, in the end.’

‘You are blushing, miss! Did he kiss you?’

‘Aunt! Lady Billington was with me.’

‘He’s not the man I think he is if he let that sharp-nosed creature stop him kissing a girl if he wanted to. Well?’

‘Yes,’ Lily admitted baldly.

‘Enjoy it?’

Lily stared at her relative, saw the twinkle in her eyes and smiled back. ‘Yes.’ What would Aunt say if she knew the truth about just how far those kisses had gone?

‘Stop blushing, child. You’d be unnatural if you didn’t like it, a handsome young man like that. Just take care it doesn’t go too far—it is one thing having a warm flirtation, quite another finding yourself leg-shackled to an unsuitable man.’

‘Is he so unsuitable?’ Lily flipped the paper to the back page without looking up.

‘Of course he is! Your duty, Lily, my dear, is to marry a gentleman. A titled gentleman. That’s what your papa was working for all those years, the notion that his grandsons would be titled gentlemen.’

Not for the first time the treacherous thought crept into Lily’s mind that perhaps Papa would have been content just for her to be happy, then she resolutely dismissed it. It was her duty to advance the family.

With the idea of distracting Mrs Herrick, she scanned the third page of the paper for some gossip, but as the majority of the sheet was taken up with the report of a crim.con case in Hereford, which she strongly suspected she was not supposed to read, and a depressing account of the starvation in the Scilly Isles, Lily turned to the back page.

‘Is the advertisement for Dr Jordan’s Cordial Balm of Rakasiri in today’s paper?’ Mrs Herrick enquired. ‘I meant to tear it out the other day, for it sounds just the thing for Cousin Alison’s rheumatic gout, and then I forgot and the girl had used it to light the fire with.’

‘I’ll see.’ Lily ran a finger down the column. A furniture auction, a cellar of wines for sale, novelty piping bullfinches, several notes to creditors … ‘Yes, here it is. Do you really think it suitable? He also says it is an infallible cure for distressed bowels and for warming the chilled bodily fluids.’ Lily grinned, ‘Actually, that sounds as though it would be highly efficacious for Alison—I cannot think of anyone chillier.’ She was still smiling as she read the rest of the advertisement, and her eye moved down to the one below.

Gentlemen desirous of obtaining a favourable opportunity for investment in a productive coal mine producing the finest grade of coal for the London market are invited to make themselves known to Mr Lovell, at the sign of the Green Dragon …

‘Lily? Whatever is the matter?’

‘Nothing, nothing at all. I was so foolish as to read all the horrid symptoms in this advertisement, which I should not have done while I was eating. I will copy the address and details down for you, shall I?’

So, Jack was not waiting for her trustees to meet. Either he did not believe they would approve of her investing in the mine, or he had scruples about her doing so. And somehow, after last night, she felt certain those scruples would have hardened into resolve. Well, I can be quite as stubborn as you, Jack Lovell.

‘If you like, I will write to Dr Jordan and purchase some of this cordial balm.’ Lily stood up, the paper folded in her hand. ‘I have some correspondence to take care of this morning.’

The order for the cordial balm was soon written. Lily pulled forward another sheet of notepaper and began to write.

Dear Uncle Frederick, I know that the trustees are not due to meet for another week. However, knowing that you are still in London, I wonder if I might prevail on you to call this afternoon to discuss a new type of investment in which I am interested. I trust that Aunt and all the family continue well. I am, as ever, your affectionate niece, Lily.

The six trustees had remained in town after the last meeting in order to attend the funeral of a business acquaintance; with any luck they would all have decided to stay on.

The thought of taking a walk in the garden and just, quite casually, dropping in to see Jack was very tempting. Lily looked wistfully out of the window, then resolutely pulled a pile of papers and correspondence towards her. He would believe she was pursuing him, or reproaching him. Either was unthinkable.

She had her head in her hands, trying to make sense of an involved letter from France & France’s principal agent in India, when a tap on the door made her look up.

‘Jack! Please come in.’ Her mind was so full of the complexities of the combined effect of a unusually severe wet season coupled with an improvement in transport for the tea down from the hills, that for a moment she forgot to feel any awkwardness at seeing Jack again in broad daylight. Then she remembered the previous night and blushed to her toes.

Jack, however, seemed more than capable of keeping his countenance. Lily swallowed and tried to follow his example.

‘Am I interrupting? You seem very busy.’ Could she refer to last night? No, perhaps better not if he didn’t.

Lily pushed the agent’s letter across the desk. ‘There is good news from Bombay, and bad news, and Mr Cummings, who is otherwise an excellent agent, rambles so much it is difficult to tell whether the end result is going to be a scarcity of good tea, a glut of poor tea or neither.’

‘But surely you do not need to concern yourself with this?’ Jack picked up the letter and read it. ‘Do you not have people to take care of this for you?’ He re-read the middle section. ‘Monsoon? Rates for coolies? Do you understand these issues?’

‘About as clearly as you understand one of your diagrams of coal seams and faults. Do you think all I did with my fortune was to spend it?’

He hesitated for just a moment, then grinned. ‘Yes.’

‘So did Adrian. Papa raised me in the business as he would a son. He knew I would have to rely on agents and on my trustees to transact affairs, so he thought it was important that I would know when I was given good advice, or when someone was trying to cheat me. I was in India with him when he died—that is why I made such a late come-out.’

‘I am impressed.’

‘Thank you.’ She waved a hand at the ledgers on the shelves and the paperwork in front of her. ‘You see, I have to work at it. I research other investments as well, so I can discuss them with my trustees. It would be helpful if you could explain more about your mine and what it is you hope to achieve before the next trustees’ meeting.’

‘The paperwork is not yet ready.’

Lily lowered her eyes so Jack could not read the irritation in them. Why was he too proud to approach her trustees when he would happily advertise in a newspaper? Because she was a woman? Because he had made love to her? Well, if he was too proud, then she would simply have to trick him for his own good.

‘Are you on your way out?’ He was holding his hat and gloves in his hand.

‘Yes. I have learned of a manufactory to the east of the City that is employing a new design of steam pump and I was going to visit it.’

‘Oh. So you will be out all day?’

‘Yes. I have told Mrs Oakman—or perhaps you wished me to accompany you to an At Home this afternoon?’ He assumed an expression of spurious willingness.

‘Certainly not, Mr Lovell.’ Lily kept her lips pursed in an effort not to smile. ‘Your rates are far too expensive for me to hire your escort more than once a week.’

‘Ma’am.’ He bowed, making no attempt to hide his own amusement. ‘I hope your work prospers.’

Lily waited until the front door closed, then ran into the front room and twitched aside the curtain—Jack was striding down the road towards Oxford Street. She watched until she saw him hail a hackney carriage at the end of the road and then whirled round. How long had she got? Safely, probably two hours.

She snatched up pen and paper as she passed the study and hurried down the garden path to the door up to the studio. As she hoped, it was unlocked and the table was covered with neat piles of notes and diagrams. She stood for a minute fixing their positions in her mind before she risked touching them.

Her cousin Tobias had explained to her how, as a lawyer, he ‘got up’ a brief so as to be able to present a case powerfully in court. Now she had two hours to study Jack’s proposals so that she could argue them in front of her trustees. Lily found a clear area of table and lifted the first piece of paper from its pile with great care. Jack would never know she had been there—not until the trustees had made their decision.

Jack stayed out all day, giving Lily time to creep nervously into the studio twice more to check that she had left everything exactly as she had found it. He was still out when she kissed her Uncle Frederick goodbye after extracting his promise that there would be an extraordinary meeting of the trustees the next afternoon to consider her mysterious proposal.

‘You aren’t usually totty-headed, my girl. Coal mines, indeed!’ Her great-uncle peered at her suspiciously from under beetling grey eyebrows. He was past seventy, a canny old merchant who ruled his own silk importing company—and his three adult sons—with a rod of iron. He did not approve of women meddling in business, although he was prepared to admit that Lily was less foolish than most of her sex. Always provided she paid attention to what her male advisers told her, of course.

‘And I am not being so now,’ she assured him affectionately. ‘I believe you will be very interested in this opportunity. After all, you did say only the other month that we ought to think about diversifying into canals.’

‘Canals are a very different matter to coal mines, child.’

‘I know, dearest Uncle Frederick. One is horizontal, the other vertical.’ He snorted at her frivolity, but patted her cheek.

‘Modern girls! I do not know what the world is coming to.’

She was sure he was still grumbling away as his carriage bore him off back to Brown’s Hotel, which sombre establishment always enjoyed his austere patronage.

But grumble as he might, he would be sure to appreciate the merits of Jack’s mine and the prospect of rich seams of coal, just waiting to be exploited. If there was one thing her trustees understood, it was the importance of having a market for your goods, and London would never cease to devour thousands of tons of coal every year.

The lack of canals in the area was a problem, she could understand that now she had thought about the problems of hauling such a bulky and heavy product. But among Jack’s notes had been some ideas about steam locomotion. Lily was not at all sure she understood how that worked, it all sounded very dangerous, but Jack seemed excited about it. Once she had persuaded the trustees to let her invest in the mine, it would be an easy next step to venture into this new world of iron and steam.

And if Jack became rich and successful and covered northern England in these new steam tramways … Lily was still sitting in the blue salon, her chin cupped in her hand, dreaming of herself on the arm of the newly ennobled Lord Lovell of Somewhere, wealthy and influential industrialist, when one of the maids came in to draw the curtains.

‘Are you all right, Miss France?’

‘What? Oh, I am sorry, Katy. I did not hear you come in.’

‘Only you were sighing, Miss France, all gusty-like, and I wondered if you were feeling quite right.’

‘Just daydreaming, Katy. Just daydreaming.’ Lily stood up, realising it was time to go and change for dinner. But what a daydream! Papa would approve, and how much better to marry a man who had reached the heights through his own efforts than one of these frivolous aristocrats who had wasted their inheritance.

It was a long step from securing an investment in Jack’s mine to seeing him ennobled, of course. Lily bit her lip, a little daunted at the prospect. He would probably have to go into politics as well, to gain the influence needed. Would Jack want to do that? Papa always said that one should aim high, but then, he had never come across the stubborn Mr Lovell. For the first time in her life, Lily realised, she was coming up against a will that was a match for hers. And this time, it was not a matter of money being lost if she did not succeed, but her chance of love and happiness.