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Chapter Fourteen
James’s life was divisible by moments of the before and the after—before and after being orphaned…adopted…leaving Dundee forever. Now, the new demarcation was Clara Chadbourne appearing at his home, ushering passion into his life.
He’d awakened during the night feeling raving mad, confident he dreamed of her appearance after weeks of doing so. Yet here she was, holding his elbow as they walked out into the mews behind his mansion.
She cared too much about the servants; she was nervous about returning home after their first night of illicit adventure. Whatever her nerves, she greeted her coachman with quiet grace as the man held a lantern up for them.
James settled into the carriage beside her, and she offered him a small but warm smile—and her elegant hand.
Damn his enthusiasm. He couldn’t hide his reaction to her gesture. After slipping his hand into hers, he watched her with gleaming eyes, raised their joined hands, and kissed her knuckles.
He should have been relieved when the carriage pulled out from the lantern-lit mews and their faces fell into shadow—surely he’d spent enough time gazing into her eyes like a befuddled boy. Instead, he missed her face already.
The journey from Belgravia to Mayfair was no more than a mile and a half. The first rays of dawn were but a distant suggestion somewhere in the sky. The gas street lamps cast butter-colored light.
As they passed Belgrave Square, James saw the surest sign of dawn, the silhouette of a lamplighter extending his hooked pole to extinguish a lamp.
She squeezed his hand. “James, what you said when I woke? That you thought you’d dreamt me…”
He closed his eyes, glad for the darkness in the carriage.What the bloody deuce do I say now?
Before he could reply, Clara asked tentatively, “Does that mean you woke gladdened to find me sharing your bed?”
James felt the fires of hell licking at him as he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. It couldn’t be said that he cared not; simply that he could not be deterred. Yes, he’d been the one to stipulate that they remain free of sentimentality.
But I’m a man, damn it, not a statue!He wrapped his arms tighter around her.
“Gladdened,” he said, as if testing her description. He spoke so quietly, she wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the sounds of the carriage wheels and horse hooves if his mouth hadn’t been near her ear. “Clara, you’ve brought spring to me after the longest winter.”
Her hands tightened on his coat lapels, but her body softened in his arms. He held her securely through every bump and sway, each time an iron-rimmed wooden wheel dipped into a rut, on every turn.
She pulled back from the embrace first, peering out the window to gauge their process. “Halfway already. There’s that positivelyungainlystatue!”
With that exclamation, James knew they were passing between Hyde Park and the grounds of Buckingham Palace. Except for Lord Wellington himself and the select few of some godawful committee, London was aghast at the oversized equestrian statue with the duke’s likeness, plonked atop the Green Park Arch. Despite the controversy a few years ago, the massive statue remained on top of the otherwise elegant and triumphal arch.
After passing the mismatched eyesore, Clara squeezed his hand. “I believed that by…taking matters into my own hands before last night, I wasn’t a maiden. That I could approach you as an equal. I was mistaken.”
He frowned.She,the aristocrat, was worried about not being an equal?“How so?”
She paused before answering. “I had but a single notion of virginity and how to dispense with it. Between the use of that apparatus I procured and my hours of studying the texts on intimate congress, I was quite certain that I was no longer chaste.” She laughed.
His lips responded to the sound by smiling. He couldn’t resist her—though he still wasn’t sure why she was laughing.
“James, all my studies were for naught! I wasn’t in control of my faculties anymore. When you spoke to me, touched me, I simply responded. I reacted without thought.”
She sounded almost distressed, as if discovering she’d received poor marks from her tutor. James crooned in the darkness, “Clara, Clara. Dinna fash. You honor me with your trust. `Tis all I could have hoped for—that when you’re with me, you know you’re safe. You have naught to do butfeel.”
“That’s it! I could only feel—pleasure. I felt…cherished.”
His heart pounded stronger at the words. She was right, and his body knew it. “You were. Are. Will be again.”
She laughed huskily. “Two days hence.”
James smarted at the reminder that he’d invited her to return sooner.
It’s for the best,he told himself unconvincingly.His eagerness could bear cooling, and besides, he had business to attend to.
The carriage pulled to a stop, as did his own team of horses behind them.
