them.
Leave. It couldn’t be more straightforward. Saddle his horse and ride off for London with the dawn. Find some comely little courtesan with chestnut hair and gold-green eyes to paw and pummel until his lust was slaked.
It wouldn’t work, Jeremy knew. He couldn’t even muster the desire to try. He’d been saddling his horse at dawn every morning, and he couldn’t reach the border of Henry’s lands without feeling a visceral tug pulling him back to the Manor. And then there had been that terrifying moment in the orchard. Not the yawning black minute when he’d been convinced she was dead. The true panic had started when he found her alive, and this need had roared to life as well. The need to snare her, trap her, pin her to a tree, anchor her with his body, and above all keep her still . Keep her from bolting off breakneck and dragging him along by that blasted satin ribbon now cinched around his gut.
This wasn’t a blind, mindless craving for anything woman and willing. This was needing with a name. It was a force beyond lust. It was Lucy.
He wanted Lucy.
Lucy wanted Toby.
And Jeremy didn’t want to talk about it.
“Don’t mistake me,” Toby continued with grating nonchalance.
“You’ve done an admirable job keeping Lucy distracted, and I do
“You’ve done an admirable job keeping Lucy distracted, and I do appreciate your sacrifice. But there’s no call to get carried away. A little kiss—it’s nothing to one of our usual set of ladies in Town.
Harmless. But Lucy’s different. She’s not been out in society. You don’t want to risk her feelings.”
Jeremy couldn’t believe his ears. Surely Toby—the ton’s most ruthless flirt—did not mean to lecture him on the delicate sensibilities of young ladies. Surely Toby was not attempting to enlighten him on the distinctions between Lucy and every other lady in England. Lucy is different . If there was one truth in Creation on which Jeremy needed no further convincing, it was that one. “Since when,” he asked in measured tones, “do you care about Lucy’s feelings?”
“Of course I care about Lucy’s feelings. No one wants to see Lucy hurt. That’s what this was about, remember?”
Jeremy swore and let his cue clatter to the table. “This was about you,” he seethed, “and your vain, infantile, self-absorbed determination to finish your holiday before getting engaged.” He tugged on the front of his waistcoat and attempted to compose his expression.
Toby crossed to a side table and uncorked a decanter of brandy.
“Calm down, Jem,” he said, pouring two generous glasses. “I expect I’m just jealous.”
“Jealous.” Jeremy choked on the word. “You can’t possibly mean you—”
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? I haven’t even kissed her yet. Me . I’ve kissed a hundred girls if I’ve kissed one, and I’ve yet to share a tender moment with the lady I mean to marry.”
Sophia . The blood rushed back to Jeremy’s knees. He meant Sophia . “I thought you said a little kiss was nothing to a lady of the ton . Harmless.”
“A kiss is harmless. But if I start with one kiss, I’m not certain I’ll stop
—and I can’t vouch for her safety then.”
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow at his friend and accepted the drink offered him. “Running a bit low on self-control, are you?” Thank God he wasn’t the only one. He eyed his glass suspiciously.
Perhaps there was something in Henry’s brandy. He had gotten his wife with child three times in five years.
“I’m in torment,” Toby said, pulling a grimace. “Seeing her every day, living under the same roof … You couldn’t possibly understand.”
You’d be surprised .
“She was uniformly enchanting in Town, of course. But there, she was one of a dozen beautiful ladies in any given salon or ballroom.
Here … here, she sparkles like a jewel among coals.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. If only Lucy could hear herself compared to a lump of coal.
“Thank heavens for
Leave. It couldn’t be more straightforward. Saddle his horse and ride off for London with the dawn. Find some comely little courtesan with chestnut hair and gold-green eyes to paw and pummel until his lust was slaked.
It wouldn’t work, Jeremy knew. He couldn’t even muster the desire to try. He’d been saddling his horse at dawn every morning, and he couldn’t reach the border of Henry’s lands without feeling a visceral tug pulling him back to the Manor. And then there had been that terrifying moment in the orchard. Not the yawning black minute when he’d been convinced she was dead. The true panic had started when he found her alive, and this need had roared to life as well. The need to snare her, trap her, pin her to a tree, anchor her with his body, and above all keep her still . Keep her from bolting off breakneck and dragging him along by that blasted satin ribbon now cinched around his gut.
This wasn’t a blind, mindless craving for anything woman and willing. This was needing with a name. It was a force beyond lust. It was Lucy.
He wanted Lucy.
Lucy wanted Toby.
And Jeremy didn’t want to talk about it.
“Don’t mistake me,” Toby continued with grating nonchalance.
“You’ve done an admirable job keeping Lucy distracted, and I do
“You’ve done an admirable job keeping Lucy distracted, and I do appreciate your sacrifice. But there’s no call to get carried away. A little kiss—it’s nothing to one of our usual set of ladies in Town.
Harmless. But Lucy’s different. She’s not been out in society. You don’t want to risk her feelings.”
Jeremy couldn’t believe his ears. Surely Toby—the ton’s most ruthless flirt—did not mean to lecture him on the delicate sensibilities of young ladies. Surely Toby was not attempting to enlighten him on the distinctions between Lucy and every other lady in England. Lucy is different . If there was one truth in Creation on which Jeremy needed no further convincing, it was that one. “Since when,” he asked in measured tones, “do you care about Lucy’s feelings?”
“Of course I care about Lucy’s feelings. No one wants to see Lucy hurt. That’s what this was about, remember?”
Jeremy swore and let his cue clatter to the table. “This was about you,” he seethed, “and your vain, infantile, self-absorbed determination to finish your holiday before getting engaged.” He tugged on the front of his waistcoat and attempted to compose his expression.
Toby crossed to a side table and uncorked a decanter of brandy.
“Calm down, Jem,” he said, pouring two generous glasses. “I expect I’m just jealous.”
“Jealous.” Jeremy choked on the word. “You can’t possibly mean you—”
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? I haven’t even kissed her yet. Me . I’ve kissed a hundred girls if I’ve kissed one, and I’ve yet to share a tender moment with the lady I mean to marry.”
Sophia . The blood rushed back to Jeremy’s knees. He meant Sophia . “I thought you said a little kiss was nothing to a lady of the ton . Harmless.”
“A kiss is harmless. But if I start with one kiss, I’m not certain I’ll stop
—and I can’t vouch for her safety then.”
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow at his friend and accepted the drink offered him. “Running a bit low on self-control, are you?” Thank God he wasn’t the only one. He eyed his glass suspiciously.
Perhaps there was something in Henry’s brandy. He had gotten his wife with child three times in five years.
“I’m in torment,” Toby said, pulling a grimace. “Seeing her every day, living under the same roof … You couldn’t possibly understand.”
You’d be surprised .
“She was uniformly enchanting in Town, of course. But there, she was one of a dozen beautiful ladies in any given salon or ballroom.
Here … here, she sparkles like a jewel among coals.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. If only Lucy could hear herself compared to a lump of coal.
“Thank heavens for
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