Page 29 of Jaxon (Gentlemen of War #4)

Jaxon

Amelia appeared in a bright yellow dress with a scooped neckline and simple chignon at the base of her neck. A few strands of her blond hair framed her lovely face in perfect symmetry, and she appeared as sunshine herself beneath these dark clouds. Though her dress was in a much better state than anything else she had worn, and easily emphasized her beauty, I admitted silently that I missed seeing her borrowed maid’s dress and floppy stockings from the first couple of days. The very memory generated a wide smile.

I reprimanded myself for not changing into proper attire for such a meeting. She should see who I truly am as I revealed the truth to her, but would she be pleased or would she feel affronted by my lies?

There was an unusual spark of excitement about her that I had not seen since the night we spoke by the fire about her interest in history, books, and travel. I treasured her easy smile and the light in her eyes, wishing to not be the one to make it dissipate. Surely, after I reveal the truth, she would have no reason to trust me, and I hated myself for that.

I could not help feeling resentful for the man who won her heart. It seemed her affianced was the most fortunate of men. The thought almost made me laugh, for after that second day confrontation with Amelia, my earlier feelings of pity for the man had progressed into outright disdain for him.

She scanned the surroundings as if she expected the others to be near, then her gaze flicked toward the river, and instead of the disappointment I expected when she saw that no one was working on the bridge, there was something else in her expression… a hint of contentment. This baffled me. She had seemed so eager to leave.

“You certainly look out of place in a hunting lodge,” I said, chuckling.

She laughed and slipped her arm through mine, which I had instinctively offered. For a fleeting moment, I indulged in the imagination of us as a couple. The joy of having this remarkable woman beside me, leading her outside toward the woods for a walk or a picnic, or to the stable for a ride…

I needed to cease these thoughts. They had no place in my mind or my heart.

“Are your accommodations comfortable? Have you been sleeping well?” I asked, striving to keep the conversation light.

Her smile was a wonder, and I cherished anything that brought it to the surface. Her hand tightened around my arm. “You have been the most gracious of hosts to a muddled group of travelers that had no business invading your privacy.”

I chuckled. It seems we have come so far since that first night. I even hoped to consider her a friend.

Friend.

I staggered through that thought. “And has the food been to your liking?”

Amelia laughed. “You, sir, will need to finish the bridge or your benevolence might persuade us to remain all summer.”

My lips pulled tight. The bridge . How was I going to address that matter? Though the thought of Amelia in residence for months turned my grimace to a smile. “Have you seen Mr. Duncan today?” I inquired.

“Yes, he is doing much better. He is sitting up, and today is the first day that he has eaten something more than just broth. He might be able to leave with us after all.” She paused. “And now that we have double the labor… the task should be completed in no time at all.”

Though she said this, her words did not match the tone of her voice which was most assuredly laced with a trace of regret.

I led her around the side of the lodge, past the Gentry’s cottage, and toward the stable. “We won’t be long,” I said. “I promise.” I intended to keep this as quick as possible, knowing the longer I tarried in her presence, the weaker I would be.

Pushing the double doors open, I led her inside. The horses greeted us with anxious neighs. They had not been ridden adequately enough in this terrible weather, and I felt awful about that. I escorted Amelia back to where her horses occupied a couple of stalls. I had not believed Blaze would recover so nicely and Luna was getting stronger each day.

She ran a hand over her mare’s back and then kissed the side of her nose. “I have missed you girl,” she said to Luna, reaching for a brush and skimming her mane.

I leaned against the entry post and watched how gentle and sweet she was with her horse, grateful we had managed to rescue at least two of them.

“I cannot tell you how obliged I am for the lengths you went to save my horses, Jack.”

“They were not my primary mark,” I countered. “I intended to reach you first, but they would have continued pulling the coach down into the river. What were the names of your other two horses?”

She smiled faintly but did not stop brushing Luna. “Ares and Poseidon.”

“Greek gods,” I said with a light laugh. Though their demise was nothing to jest over, the names were. “Now why does that not surprise me?” I reached for another brush to use on Blaze. “Is it wrong for me to presume you have read as much about Greece as you have on Italy?”

“You are not wrong.” When she smiled, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, those same cheeks that often turned varying shades of pink in my presence. Even now, they flushed a rosy red.

“I’m sorry I was unable to save them,” I said.

She stopped brushing and watched me. There was something in her stare that held my attention. A pressure returned to my chest. How was I going to confess my subterfuge and not anger her?

She placed her brush down and reached for my hand, surprising me. Her touch, so sweet and tender that I didn’t wish to let go. Facing me, her thumb caressed my hand as if she sensed that I needed additional encouragement to continue. “Tell me what’s troubling you, Jack.” She tilted her head lightly to the side. “Please?”

I stole a deep breath, not surprised in the least at her ability to sense my emotion. “I must convey something to you. Something about me.” I met her eyes and found empathy within.

She waited patiently, though I struggled to form the words. “I—I, um—”

“You’re a member of the peerage,” she whispered. “You’re a lord.”

My eyes narrowed and lips parted with a small gasp. “H—how did you know?”

She squeezed my hand and let go, leaning against the slats of the stall, clasping her hands in front of her. “There were a few hints in the beginning. I tried to make sense of the contradictions. The rough appearance and rustic residence spoke of being uncultured…” She smiled softly. “But your propriety continued to surface from the way in which you spoke, your mannerisms, even your conduct with others.”

I remained silent as she continued,

“You are well read, and I don’t know many tradesmen who are that intelligent.”

“And exactly how many tradesmen do you know?” One of my eyebrows arched teasingly.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I confess, not many, but there was always something different about you.”

“I tried to keep it hidden,” I replied. “But when it’s hammered into you from birth, it is nearly impossible to disregard.”

“Well, you certainly had me confused.”

“It was my years at war that contributed.” I exhaled slowly, relieved that she had accepted this news so well.

“Is Jack your real name?”

My jaw tightened. Time to tell her the whole truth. I took the few steps to bring me closer to her and in a perfect bow, lifted her hand and brought it to my lips. “Lord Jaxon Gray at your command, Miss Amelia.”

“Gray!” she cried, the flush in her cheeks now paled. “As in the Duke of Camberley?”

My silence seemed to confirm the answer. I cringed. Of course, she would be aware of my father as one of the most powerful men in England. Her hands began shaking simultaneously to her shortened breath.

“I’m still the same man I was this morning.” I reached for her hand and pleaded.

“Why?” she asked. “Why was such secrecy necessary?” She pulled away. “Why go to such great lengths to keep your identity hidden?” She paced nervously in a tight circle then whipped around with wide eyes. “Did you believe me to be a huntress? A desperate unmarried miss in search of a husband?” Her voice fractured. “I—is that why you didn’t tell me who you were?” One of her palms flew to her mouth. “I—I would never attempt to trap a gentleman.”

“No,” I countered. “I never believed such a notion, not in the least.” Though I had heard of similar schemes befalling men of the ton , such a thought had not even entered my mind about Amelia.

“I can assure you I did not plan to become stranded, Jack… I mean, Lord Jaxon.” She blinked several times. “And I certainly did not wish for Mr. Duncan to be injured.”

I reached out and my hands wound around her, pulling her closer. This was a dangerous place to be, but I wanted her to know it had nothing to do with her. “I never once believed that, Amelia, and please call me Jack, I’ve grown rather used to the name.”

She peered up at me, not moving from my embrace. Her intoxicating proximity weakened me, quite like when I’d had too much wine. Affianced be damned. My lips nearly met hers when the tip of her finger touched my mouth to gently stop me.

“Why?” she whispered. “Why did you leave London and your family?”

I tilted my head slightly at her words, letting them sink in slowly. “How did you know I was in London?” I asked.

Her eyes turned downward, but she did not move. Mere inches hovered between us, and I felt so tempted to close the distance. I released one hand and slid my fingers lightly below her chin, lifting it up, urging her to face me.

She closed her eyes and seemed to bask in my touch as my hand now cradled her cheek, caressing her skin.

“Tell me Amelia,” I whispered. “How did you know I left London.”

I waited for her to open her eyes again… willing to wait however long it might take.

Once she did, her gray pupils now appeared almost ethereal in the shadows of the lantern flame. “I saw you,” she whispered. “But I didn’t know who you were.”

“When? Where?” My voice soothed. I didn’t want to move from this tremendously glorious position.

“You were on the veranda at the Byrne’s masquerade ball.”

She began unraveling my neckcloth, slowly releasing it knot by knot. Though I was certainly surprised, I did not stop her. When she slid it from my neck, her fingers tapped softly against my jaw. “I had ventured outside to escape the heat of the crush but somehow got trapped when you and your friend arrived. I didn’t mean to overhear you speaking, and though I did not understand your conversation, I heard the torment in your voice. You had removed your cravat.” And just like last night, she slid a finger down the length of my scar, sending shivers through my body. “And I saw this.”

It was when Hunter and I had gone outside after that pathetic performance inside and my father’s confrontation.

“What did you hear?”

Both of my hands now rested on her waist.

“You said you needed to leave to keep your family safe. I did not recognize you. Even after you went back inside and after I warmed up in the ladies retiring room, I could not seem to locate you.”

It only just dawned on me now, at this very moment, that it was she who stood at the base of the stairs at the ball. I happened to have stepped out of the ballroom to ask the footman to prepare my horse when her pelisse dropped before me. I remembered how taken I was by her presence but quickly pushed her from my mind. I had only one prioritized task and that was to leave London straightaway.

“You were dressed as an angel,” I said. “A beautiful angel in white.” I hesitated for only a moment. “From this capricious clime she soars, O! would some god but wings supply.”

Her mouth parted and she gasped. “To where each morn the Spring restores, Companion of her flight I’d try.”

I could not resist her any longer and leaned forward, kissing her sweetly. Her lips tasted of honey and lemons from this afternoon’s tea and as both my arms wrapped around her, drawing her inward, she responded in kind. My lips molded to hers as if they were forged from the same cast and were only now finding one another. Deepening the kiss, I fell recklessly into unbridled abandon.

Her hands wound around my neck and her fingers threaded through my hair, radiating a desire I had never before experienced within a kiss—the few times I’d had the pleasure of one.

Yet, nothing in the slightest compared to this.

The more I sampled the pleasure of her lips, the more my mind spun. I couldn’t get enough… yet she belonged to another.

She belongs to another!

I released her and took a swift step backward. “Forgive me, Amelia.” I shook my head as if that might clear the confusion that had resided there for the last several minutes. “I should not have done that.”

She took several timid steps backward herself, leaning flush against the wood panels of the stall. The subtle rise and fall of her chest and the soft wisps of air that escaped her lips were going to drive me mad, yet I could not turn and run. I could not desert her.

I rubbed my neck, feeling it bare and being reminded that she removed my neckcloth. I could still feel the phantom touch of her fingers as they caressed my wound. She held out the cloth. “I’m sorry, Lord Jaxon.”

“Jack,” I said as I received the cloth. “I’m still the same man.”

She appeared hurt.

But why?

I stepped forward and caressed her cheek as tears silently trailed down. Why was she crying? Blast! She felt guilty. “You don’t have to inform your betrothed,” I whispered. “It was entirely my fault. I overstepped.”

Her eyes shot up with momentary confusion. Were her tears from something else? She attempted to speak, but nothing came forth. She bit her bottom lip and I nearly unraveled again.

“No.” She shook her head. “There’s no—”

“—Mr. Jack!” Diggs came flying through the stable doors. “Mr. Jack are you in here?” I swiftly stepped into view. “Come, quickly.” He stopped long enough to press one hand against a wooden post and the other on his heart, catching his breath. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere. You’re needed at the house.”

“Has something happened to Mr. Duncan?” Amelia asked as she stepped out of the stall behind me.

He shook his head. “Your French friends. I don’t know what happened, I don’t speak French.”

I grabbed Amelia’s hand as we rushed back outside and down the path toward the house as rain now fell in large steady drops. I had been so consumed with her that I had not even heard the rain against the stable roof. I also had not even a moment to replace my neckcloth in its proper place. Thank goodness nobody seemed to care or notice when we reached Claude and the sight of a man lying lifeless on the ground.