61
" Do you love him?”
“I wish people would stop asking me that,” Celia muttered under her breath.
“What people?”
“Gran.” She swallowed. “Mr. Pinter.”
“Mr. Pinter?” Minerva echoed with decided interest.
“It’s not what you think,” Celia protested. “I hired him to find out the truth about my suitors, so he wanted to know if I was in love with any of them.”
Minerva arched one eyebrow. “And why should he care?”
“That’s what I said. And ever since, he’s been baiting me in front of them and telling me awful things about them to blacken them in my mind.”
“Even Lyons?” Minerva said.
“Well, no. I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard about the madness in the duke’s family, but beyond that, Jackson hasn’t found a single thing-“
“Jackson?”
Celia colored. “Mr. Pinter.” When Minerva kept staring, she added sullenly, “We’ve been in each other’s pockets because of the investigation. That’s all. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
62
" Oh, blast, this is all so confusing!” she complained. “How is a woman supposed to figure out what a man really wants?”
“If you learn the answer to that question, do be a dear and tell the rest of us,” Minerva quipped. “Though as far as I can tell, men are simple creatures, for all their posturing. They want food, drink, and a wench to bed, not necessarily in that order.”
“And love?” Celia asked.
Minerva smiled. “That, too. Some men do, anyway. You’ll just have to spend some time with Mr. Pinter and find out if that’s what he wants from you.”
“And how on earth am I supposed to spend time with him when he’s been avoiding me ever since the last time we kissed?”
“Perhaps he’s worried about the difference in your stations.”
“That didn’t keep him from kissing me.” She scowled. “Besides, you’ve heard what he says about our sort. If anything, he thinks himself above us, not below us. He didn’t even ask me to dance tonight! He could have. No one would have thought anything of that. Instead, he spent the entire ball standing about, looking disappointed, and talking to servants.”
“Perhaps because you spent the entire ball in the company of your suitors.”
Celia released an exasperated breath. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m not allowed to ask a man to dance. And at least I know what my suitors want. Lord Devonmont wants to seduce me, the viscount wants peace in his old age, and the duke wants to marry me. I don’t have any idea what Jackson wants, other than to drive me mad.”
And to make her want him. She’d spent half the evening remembering his sweet kisses that afternoon and his fierce words about desiring her.
Had any of it been feigned? It was hard to know. Still, even tonight she’d caught him gazing at her with such hunger…
A rush of heat through her body made her bite back an oath.
“There’s still a couple of days left until the house party is over” Minerva pointed out. “Why don’t you just see how matters progress? Tell the duke you need time to consider his offer, and use that time to try to figure out what’s going on with Mr. Pinter.”
“In other words, ‘let his behavior be the guide of your sensations.’”
Minerva scowled. “Have you been reading Jane Austen?”
Oops. She’d forgotten that she’d read the line in Emma.
“Don’t get me wrong-she’s a good choice,” Minerva said tartly. “And I suppose that is good advice. Though I’d also advise you to decide what it is you want from him. Marriage?”
“I don’t know. That’s the trouble.”
But an hour later, after Minerva had left and Celia was lying alone in her bed, she realized that she did know one thing she wanted from him. More time alone together. More chances to see how she felt, and if it was real or just borne of some madness of the moment.
Only now did she realize how much she’d been protecting herself from feeling anything for a man. But whenever she was with him, she didn’t want to protect herself. He made her want to feel.
She fell asleep, dreaming of Jackson’s mouth on hers, his hands on her body. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
63
" But when he crested the hill, the sight that greeted him made him pause. At the bottom of the hill stood Celia in a riding habit, her gun pointed in his direction. He halted just as she spotted him.
After emptying the gun by firing it in the opposite direction, she set it on the ground facing away from them, picked up her skirts, and came up the hill with fire in her eyes. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she cried.
Only then did he notice the target that was set into the hill below him. So this was where she did her shooting practice. He should have known she’d have a secret spot for it.
“Pardon me for interrupting,” he said dryly as she approached. “When I heard shots, I thought it was poachers.”
“And you were going to confront them alone?” She planted her hands on her hips. “What if there were several, armed and ready to shoot?”
The very idea made him roll his eyes. “In my experience, poachers run when they see someone coming. They don’t brandish guns.” He couldn’t resist taunting her. “You’re the only person who does that, my lady.”
At his use of her title, she stiffened. “Well, you could have been hurt all the same. You really mustn’t sneak up on people like that. And what are you doing up so early, anyway?” Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t be going to London-you’re heading in the wrong direction.”
“I’m off to High Wycombe. Apparently your old nurse lives there, so I’m going to question her about the events on the morning of your parents’ deaths. That way I can confirm if your dream is just a dream or something more.”
Her face lit up. “Let me go with you.”
Hell and blazes. This is what he got for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
65
" Secondly," he went on, "a Chief Magistrate is about as far beneath a marquess's daughter as a tree is beneath the moon."
A mutinous look crossed his aunt's face. "Sir Richard started out as a saddler's apprentice. He got himself a knighthood partly because he married a wife with good connections."
"A wealthy baker's daughter. That's a far cry from a lady of rank."
"That doesn't mean it can't happen. You're a fine man, a handsome man, if I do say so myself. You're young and strong, with a good education and gentlemanly manners-better manners than Sir Richard, anyway. And now that you own this house-"
"She lives in a mansion!" Snatching his arm free, he rose. "Do you really think she'd be happy here in Cheapside, with the butchers and merchants and tradesmen?"
Her aunt looked wounded. "I thought you liked this neighborhood."
Damn. "I do, but..." There was nothing for it but to tell her the truth. "She can't stand me, all right? I'd be the last person on earth she'd want to marry." Snatching up the report, he headed for the door. "I have to go."
"Jackson?"
"What?" he barked.
"If that's true, she's a fool."
Lady Celia was no fool. She simply knew better than to take up with a man who didn't know the identity of his own father. He managed a curt nod. "I'll see you tonight, Aunt."
As he left the house, an age-old anger weighed him down. He wouldn't hurt Aunt Ada for the world, but she didn't understand. Ever since he'd started working for the Sharpes, she'd hoped that his association with them would raise him up in the world, and nothing he said dampened that hope.
No doubt she believed that his father's supposedly noble blood made him somehow superior to every other bastard. But one day she would learn. An unclaimed bastard was an unclaimed bastard, no matter who his father was. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
66
" If it were any of the other Sharpes, he wouldn’t balk. But the idea of spending serveral hours in her company was both intoxicating and terrifying.
“If you don’t let me go along,” she continued, “I’ll just follow you.
He scowled at her. She probably would; the woman was as stubborn as she was beautiful.
“And don’t think you can outride me, either,” she added. “Halstead Hall has a very good stable, and lady Bell is one of our swiftest mounts.”
“Lady Bell?” he said sarcastically. “Not Crack Shot or Pistol?”
She glared over at him. “Lady Bell was my favorite doll when I was a girl, the last one Mama gave me before she died. I used to play with it whenever I wanted to remember her. The doll got so ragged that I threw her away when I outgrew her.” Her voice lowered. “I regretted that later, but by then it was too late.”
The idea of her playing with a doll to remember her late mother made his throat tighten and his heart falter. “Fine,” he bit out. “You can go with me to High Wycombe.”
Surprise turned her cheeks rosy. “Oh, thank you, Jackson! You won’t regret it, I promise you!”
“I already regret it,” he grumbled. “And you must do as I say. None of your going off half-cocked, do you hear?”
“I never go off half-cocked!”
“No, you just walk around with a pistol packed full of powder, thinking you can hold men at bay with it.”
She tossed her head. “You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”
“Not as long as we both shall live.”
The minute the words left his lips, he could have kicked himself. They sounded too much like a vow, one he’d give anything for the right to make.
Fortunately, she didn’t seem to have noticed. Instead, she was squirming and shimmying about on her saddle.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’ve got a burr caught in my stocking that keeps rubbing against my leg. I’m just trying to work it out. Don’t mind me.”
His mouth went dry at her mention of stockings. It brought yesterday’s encounter vividly into his mind, how he’d lifted her skirts to reach the smooth expanse of calf encased in silk. How he’d run his hands up her thighs as his mouth had tasted-
God save him. He couldn’t be thinking about such things while riding. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as they reached the road and settled into a comfortable pace.
The road was busy at this early hour. The local farmers were driving their carts to market or town, and laborers were headed for the fields. To Jackson’s relief, that made it easy not to talk. Conversaing with her was bound to be difficult, especially if she started consulting him about her suitors. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
67
" I suppose she’s very proud of you.”
“Do you find that surprising?” he drawled.
“No!” She cast him a considering glance. “Why shouldn’t she? You’re a very skilled investigator, I’m told.”
“But not skilled enough to suit your ladyship,” he said, feeling a perverse urge to bait her.
“I didn’t say that. From what I’ve seen, you’re very thorough.” She turned her gaze to the road ahead. “It’s no wonder that you’re being considered for the position of Chief Magistrate.”
His stomach knotted. He should have known that every conversation with Celia had the potential to be a bog-ridden moor. “I suppose your grandmother told you about that.”
A troubled expression crossed her face. “She says you must be careful not to be accused of any impropriety. That it would hurt your prospects for advancement. She says I should take care not to let you be caught in that position.”
“Oh, she does, does she?” Mrs. Plumtree was even more Machiavellian than he’d given her credit for. “And I see you listen to her very well, for here we are, alone together again. At your instigation.”
A blush suffused her cheeks that so enhanced her beauty, he had to look away. “Don’t worry,” she said, “no one will ever know about this. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Like no one knew about our being alone together yesterday?”
“No one did!” she protested.
“Right. And your grandmother didn’t guess that we’d been together, either. The last time anyone saw us, we were walking off arm in arm, remember?”
“Oh, but I told her some nonsense about how we parted before I came into the north wing.”
“And she believed you,” he said skeptically.
“Yes.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Well, I think she did.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
68
" She asked about my intentions toward you.” He steadied his nerve to speak words that might hurt her. “I told her there was nothing between us.”
“Did you?” Her expression was impenetrable as she shifted her gaze to the road ahead. “Fortunately, I told her the same thing.”
He gripped the reins. So much for hurting her.
“But you know Gran,” Celia went on lightly. “She’ll think what she wants, no matter what either of us say.”
“Well,” he managed, “her mind will surely be put to rest about you and me when you announce that you’re marrying the duke.”
“When I announce?” she echoed, then fell silent for a long moment. “There’s something I…ought to have mentioned before.”
He gritted his teeth. Damn, damn, damn. She must have already announced it, last night after he’d left the ball. It was set in stone now. She was planning to let that bloody duke into her bed and her life, even though she didn’t-
“I never had any intention of marrying the duke.”
Stunned, he turned to gape at her, a jolt of relief shooting straight to his soul. Then he caught himself. He could be reading her words entirely wrong. “Oh? Have you fixed on one of the others instead?”
She took a deep breath. “Actually I’d planned for another outcome entirely.”
His blood clamored in his chest. “What do you mean?”
“I was hoping that if I gained an offer from a man of high rank, I could throw it in Gran’s face to prove I am just as marriageable as any woman. Then she would realize that her ultimatum was foolish, and she would rescind it.”
Sweet God. That, he hadn’t expected. “I see,” he muttered, rendered practically speechless by her revelation. All this time he’d assumed that she wanted to marry one of those arses. If she hadn’t really…
No, he couldn’t allow himself to hope. Nothing had really changed.
“I know, I know,” she went on, “you don’t have to say it-it was a stupid plan. I didn’t think it through.”
He weighed his words. “If it was a stupid plan-and I’m not saying it was-it’s only because you misconstrue your grandmother’s feelings about your eligibility to marry.”
She snorted. “She thinks no one would ever marry ‘a reckless society miss’ and a ‘troublemaker. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
69
" She thinks no one would ever marry ‘a reckless society miss’ and a ‘troublemaker.’”
He winced to hear his own words thrown back at him. Celia was all that…and so much more. Not that he dared tell her. Bad enough that he’d revealed too much of how he felt yesterday. For now, she could chalk it up to mere desire. If he started paying her compliments, she might guess how far his feelings went, and that wouldn’t do.
So he tempered his remarks. “Your grandmother is merely worried that you will waste yourself on some man who doesn’t deserve you.” Like a bastard Bow Street Runner. “I suspect that if you tell her you’re going to marry the duke, she won’t be a bit surprised. And she certainly won’t agree to rescind the ultimatum, now that she’s finally achieved what she wanted.”
“Yes, I’ve come to that conclusion myself. And besides…well…it wouldn’t be fair to involve him in such a plot behind his back when he’s a genuinely nice man offering marriage. If word got out that he had offered and I’d accepted, only to turn him down, people would assume I’d done it because of the madness in his family. That would just be cruel.”
Now that Jackson knew she wasn’t actually going to marry the duke, he could be open-minded. “It certainly wouldn’t be kind,” he agreed. “But I’d be more worried that if word got out, you’d be painted as the worst sort of jilt.”
She shrugged that off. “I wouldn’t care, as long as it freed me from Gran’s ultimatum.”
It took him a moment to digest that. “So you lied when you said at our first discussion of your suitors that you had an interest in marriage?”
“Of course I didn’t lie.” Her cheeks pinkened again. “But I want to marry for love, and not because Gran has decided I’m taking too long at it. I want my husband to genuinely care for me.” Her voice shook a little. “And not just my fortune.” She cut him a sidelong glance. “Or my connections.”
He stiffened in the saddle. “I understand.” Oh yes, he understood all right. Any overtures he made would be construed as mercenary. Her grandmother had made sure of that by telling her of his aspirations.
Not that it mattered. If he married her, he risked watching her lose everything. A Chief Magistrate made quite a lofty sum for someone of Jackson’s station, but for someone of hers?
It was nothing. Less than nothing.
“So what do you plan to do?” he asked. “About your grandmother’s ultimatum, I mean.”
She shook her head. “If presenting her with an offer and begging her forbearance didn’t work, my original plan was just to marry whichever of the three gentlemen had offered.”
“And now?”
“I can’t bring myself to do it.”
He stopped clenching the reins. “Well, that’s something then.”
“So I find myself back where I started. I suppose I shall have to drum up some more suitors.” She slanted a glance at him. “Any ideas? "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
70
" I can’t imagine how I could help you in that regard, my lady.”
The “my lady” particularly hurt. She’d thought that they’d moved past his acting like Proud Pinter, and her hurt made her peevish. “Well, you kept insisting when I hired you that there must be some suitable gentlemen out there who would marry me. So go find some, blast you. So far, all you’ve done is criticize the ones I found for myself.”
He flashed her a small smile. “Excellent point.”
“I know,” she shot back.
Though now it occurred to her that his vehement protests over her choice of suitors were odd. Given his heated caresses yesterday, his behavior smacked of jealousy. So if he cared enough to be jealous of the other men, why didn’t he care enough to court her himself?
I told her that there was nothing between us.
Was that just his way of soothing Grans fears and protecting his pride? Or had their encounter yesterday truly been only a dalliance?
“For a man whose task is to solve problems,” she grumbled, “you create more than you solve.”
“In my defense , I’m not used to matchmaking work,” he pointed out.
“Clearly. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
71
" But if they didn’t return to Halstead Hall before their absence was discovered, she’d be ruined. A young unmarried female couldn’t just go off on a trip, no matter how short, with an unmarried gentleman. They’d have to marry.
Yes-they would, wouldn’t they?
A powerful longing swept him as he watched her hug Mrs. Duffet. For one fleeting moment, he indulged the fantasy of being Celia’s husband.
He would return to Cheapside every day after work at Bow Street to find her, his wife, waiting in his home to greet him with a kiss. They’d have a pleasant dinner, then walk down to Blackfriars Bridge and stroll across the Thames to watch the sun set in summer or the moon rise on a chilly night in winter.
Once they returned home, he’d write up his reports as she darned his socks-
A harsh laugh clogged his throat. As if a lady like her would ever darn socks. Or be satisfied with a simple walk across a bridge in the moonlight instead of a night at the theater.
You could afford a night at the theater from time to time, and new socks anytime your old ones get holes.
But only if he became Chief Magistrate. And once the children came along…
Children? That was quite the leap forward, considering that a marriage between them was impossible. Damn Mrs. Plumtree to hell. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
74
" Then call me Pierce because we're friends." He bent in close in the turn, eyes gleaming as they dropped to her lips. "Intimate friends, if I get my wish."
This time there was no mistaking his meaning. But he was so practiced and smooth that she couldn't help herself-she laughed. When that made him frown, she tried to suppress her amusement, but that only made her laugh harder.
"What's so funny?" he muttered.
"I'm sorry," she said, swallowing her amusement. "It's just that I've heard my brothers make such insinuations to women in that tone of voice for years, but I've never been on the receiving end."
Pierce's smile would rival that of Casanova. "I don't know why not," he said in a lazy drawl. His gaze raked her appreciatively as they swirled about the room. "Tonight, in that purple gown, you look particularly fetching. The color suits you."
"Thank you." Minerva had been trying to get her to stop wearing browns and oranges for years, but Celia had always pooh-poohed her sister's opinions. It was only after Virginia had said exactly the same thing last month that she'd begun to think she should listen. And to order new gowns accordingly.
"You're a lovely woman with the figure of a Venus and a mouth that could make a man-"
"You can stop now." Her amusement vanished. She'd be flattered if he meant a single word, but clearly this was just a game to him. "I don't need the full rogue treatment, I assure you."
Interest sparked in his eyes. "Hasn't it occurred to you that I might be sincere?"
"Only if you're sincerely trying to seduce me."
He cast her a blatantly carnal glance as he held her tighter. "Well, of course I'm trying to seduce you. What else would I be doing?"
She pitched her voice over the music. "I'm a respectable woman, you know."
"What has that got to do with anything?"
She arched an eyebrow at him as they moved in consort.
"Even a respectable woman might be tempted into, say, slipping out with a gentleman for a walk in the moonlit courtyard. And if said gentleman should happen to steal a kiss or two-"
"Lord Devonmont!"
"Fine." He smiled ruefully. "Bu you can't blame me for trying. You do look ravishing this evening."
"There you go again," she said, exasperated. "Can you never talk to a woman as if she's a normal person?"
"How dull that would be." When she frowned, he shook his head. "Very well. What scintillating topics of conversation did you have in mind? "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
75
" Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said as he set down the pail to survey the room.
“You found water!”
“There was a stream close by.” His gaze fixed on what she held in her hand. “I see you found my brandy.”
Refusing to be embarrassed, she walked over to hand the flask to him. “I did indeed.” She shot him a mischievous glance as he drank some. “Who would guess that the estimable Mr. Pinter, so high in the instep, drinks strong spirits?”
He scowled at her. “A little brandy on a cold day never hurt anyone. And I’m not high in the instep.”
“Oh? Didn’t you tell Gabe only last week that most lords were only good for redistributing funds from their estates into all the gaming hells and brothels in London, and ignoring their duty to God and country?”
When he flushed, she felt a twinge of conscience, but only a twinge. He looked so charming when he was flustered.
“I wasn’t implying that your family…”
“It’s all right,” she said, taking pity on him. He had saved her life, after all. “You have good reason to be high in the instep. And you’re not far wrong, in any case-there are many lords who are a blight upon society.”
He was quiet a long moment. “I hope you realize that I don’t think that of your brothers. Or your brother-in-law. They’re fine men.”
“Thank you.”
Removing his surtout, he walked over to hang it on top of her cloak, then stood there warming his hands at the fire. “I wish I could say the same about your cousins. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
76
" I’ve imagined you like this…many times…naked, sharing my bed,” he rasped, the fervent words warming her, making her relax. “You have no idea.”
“I have some idea,” she managed. “I imagined you, too.”
He looked skeptical. “Like this?”
“Well, not exactly…I didn’t know…what to expect.” Or how shockingly intimate it would feel.
A lock of his dark hair fell over one eye, making him look more like a dangerous character and less like the formal Jackson she knew.
“And now that you do?” he asked.
“I like it.” The motion had started to warm her below, to spark the same tingling she’d felt when he rubbed her. “It’s like a very naughty waltz.”
He choked out a laugh. “Yes. I lead. You follow.”
You move between my legs.
Oh, so that’s why people thought the waltz so scandalous! “I’ll never be able to waltz again….without thinking of this,” she breathed.
He bent to whisper. “Then I’ll have to claim you for the next waltz.”
She liked that word, claim.
“And the next…and the next…” He thrust more quickly into her and her tingling heightened, twisting into something hot and exciting and infinitely more thrilling than any waltz.
“Jackson…ohhh, Jackson…”
“Every waltz…from now…until eternity.”
“Yes…” She felt as if she were spiraling upward, like sparks dancing up from the fire into the chimney and out, and now she was soaring, rising with him into the cloudless climes and starry skies where all the beauty walked…
“Yes!” she cried as she reached that pinnacle. “Oh, yes, Jackson, yes…I’m yours…I’m yours…yours…”
And with a fierce groan, he drove in deep and spent himself inside her. “As am I…” he whispered against her ear while he shuddered and shook over her. “Yours. Always. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
79
" She knew what she had to do.”
“Did she? How odd for a pampered lady. Though I’m sure she complained constantly about the lack of heat and food and furnishings.”
Hell and blazes, he could see where this was going. “She did not. But it was only one night, and we were hiding from killers.”
“Trust me, Jackson, killers or no, if you’d hauled me about the woods and put me through such deprivation, I would have been complaining. Loudly. Repeatedly. “
He pushed back from the table to eye her with abject skepticism. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d make the best of things.”
“And she didn’t?”
With a hard glare, he crossed his arms over his chest. “One night in a cottage is hardly a good test of how well she’d endure a lifetime in Cheapside?”
“So last night was a test, was it? And even so, she passed it. In response, you talked about duty and honor and such. Made her feel as if marrying her would be your concession to propriety. Have I judged the situation aright?”
It was getting harder to pretend that he’d behaved like anything but an arse this morning. “She has a bloody duke chomping at the bit to marry her, and you think she could be happy with me? Here?”
Aunt Ada planted her hands on her hips. “You know, I’m beginning to be insulted. I thought I’d made this quite a comfortable home, and now I find that you think it comparable to some hovel in the woods.”
“That’s not what I-“
“If you showed the same lack of feeling with her as you are with me right now, it’s a wonder she didn’t slap the tar out of you.” She shook her head. “You decided her future without even considering her feelings. Don’t you find that presumptuous? "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
