reconsider. When he recalled his relationship with Jess in light of his meeting with her grandfather-the attempted seduction in the Barries' library, the very nearly consummated seduction at the inn, the unchaste embrace and renewed offer of
Chalmers' ball-he shuddered with embarrassment. He had never before dreamed of doing more than kiss the fingertips of an unmarried lady of her rank. He had had Jessica Moore in bed, his hands roaming and exploring every inch of her body! He had been within moments of violating that body.
She would have to marry him. Surely even a lady of her stubborn independence must see that. She had been hopelessly dishonored, her reputation compromised beyond repair. The only way out for her was to wed her would-be seducer. Once her grandfather arrived at Hendon, once he had talked to her, once everyone knew her real identity, she would realize for herself that she had absolutely no choice in the matter. Even if she hated him, even if she was repulsed by him, she must marry him.
But it was not as bad as that. She did not hate him, Rutherford convinced himself. She was certainly not repulsed by him. It was just that their relationship had made a very poor start, a purely physical start, and she was convinced that he saw her as a sexual object only. Her pride was hurt. But she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She just needed to be persuaded that marriage to him was the answer.
He just wished that there were someone more tactful than he to do the persuading. Somehow he did not seem to have the gift of talking to Jess. He was always so conscious of her, of his great need for her, that he could not possibly act naturally with her. Always he seemed like two persons, the one taking the most disastrous approaches to communicating with her, the other standing back and watching in dismay.
Unfortunately, he did not believe there was any more tactful advocate of his cause. Obviously her grandfather was not the man. The marquess himself admitted that he and Jess had never been able to agree on anything for any length of time. And she had rebelled in no uncertain manner the last time he had tried to order her life. And Rutherford was not convinced that even his grandmother would be able to change Jess's mind once it was made up. The dowager might have a will of iron, but he suspected that perhaps she had met her match in Jess.
Lord Rutherford sighed as he gazed about him with some satisfaction at the buildings of London. Jess. How would he ever get her out of his blood if she refused him this time? He might have agreed with her a few weeks before that his need for her was a purely physical thing, that if he could once bed her a few times, the obsession would disappear and she would become merely a woman to be used until all pleasure gave way to boredom. But it was not so. How absurd ever to have thought it.
Jess was part of his very being. He did not know her very well. She had never allowed him close enough to the person that she was. But he knew one thing. The one goal of his life, the one activity that could make it worth living, was to reach beyond the self-imposed barriers and learn to know her as well as he knew himself. He wanted her in his bed, yes. Nothing had changed that desire. But that would not be enough. Not nearly enough. He wanted Jess in his home, in his life. In his heart.
If he had discovered one thing during his long and tedious travels of the previous few weeks, he had discovered that. He loved Jessica Moore.
'We will be home in ten minutes, sir,' he said, turning to his silent traveling companion with a smile, 'and I do believe we will have time for a rest before dinner. I am sure you could use one.'
'Damn the rest,' the marquess said. 'A hot bath and a good stiff drink will go a much farther way to restoring me, Rutherford. I shall spend long enough in my bed, doubtless, in the coming years unless I have the good fortune to pop off suddenly.'
11
Lady Hope was looking almost pretty, Jessica decided. And it was strange really, because that lady was not dressed up in any of the finery that she usually wore when Jessica saw her. She was wearing a warm woolen dress, which had obviously seen better days. And even that was not wholly visible behind a large paint-streaked bibbed apron. Her dark hair, usually schooled into a tidy and smooth chignon, was less than immaculate, stray wisps having escaped from their bonds all over her head. Her cheeks were glowing with color.
The two ladies were relaxing on the window bench of the nursery at Hendon Park, favorite country seat of the Duke of Middleburgh. Lady Hope had been on all fours on the floor, one shrieking nephew on her back, a cousin's infant yelling to be allowed up as well, when Jessica had come to visit. The game of horsy had come to an abrupt end despite Jessica's laughter and protests. Lady Hope had scrambled to her feet, apologizing for her loss of dignity, her less than immaculate appearance, and the paint that her young niece had daubed her with earlier as they had tried to reproduce the scene from the window.
And now she was trying to appear dignified as she perched beside Jessica, ignoring the pleas of niece and nephews and other young relatives to come and play.
'I daresay I would quickly tire of playing with the little dears if I had some of my own,' she said. 'Foolish, is it not, my dear Miss Moore, to enjoy romping with the youngsters at my age?'
'Not at all,' Jessica assured her. 'I am sure they all look forward vastly to seeing you, Lady Hope. I believe too many times children see all too little of their parents or other adult members of their family until they are old enough to join them at adult entertainments.'
'Just look at that child!' Lady Hope said with an indulgent smile. 'No, no, Robbie, my love, it is not gentlemanly to pull your sister's hair. You see? Now you have made her angry. Don't slap, dear. Yes, I know he pulled your hair, but it is not ladylike to retaliate. There. Robbie will apologize, will you not, my love?'
'Mm.' Jessica drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. 'I do believe a person can smell those mince pies all over the house. Christmas does have a special smell all its own.'
'I do wonder where Charles is,' Lady Hope said. 'Only two days to Christmas and not a word from him. Mama will be very upset if he does not come, not to mention the rest of us. We have never had Christmas without our all being present. I remember how empty it seemed the first year without Grandpapa, though I was a mere girl at the time.'
'Perhaps he will come yet,' Jessica said, schooling her voice to casualness. 'Surely he would have let her grace know if he were not coming at all.'
Lady Hope sighed. 'I do wish Charles would marry soon,' she said. 'My youngest niece is four years old already, and I am quite sure that Faith does not intend to have any more. It is high time Charles set up his nursery. He will be thirty on his next birthday. He just does not seem to be interested in any of the young ladies of the
Jessica said nothing. The thought of Lord Rutherford paying court to a lovely girl fresh from the schoolroom made her feel slightly ill.
'I suppose I could have had children of my own if I had not been so fussy,' Lady Hope said rather wistfully.
Jessica looked her inquiry.
'I have loved, you see,' Lady Hope said, flashing her rather nervous smile. 'And love is not always good for a person, Miss Moore. It leaves one dissatisfied with lesser feelings. You would not dream to look at me now, would you, that I had numerous offers even up to my thirtieth year? Of course, I daresay most if not all of them came because of who I am. Anyone can see that I was never a beauty. Not like Faith. But some very eligible gentlemen offered, for all that. And I refused them all. I loved my Bevin even when it was useless to do so-he had been long dead. Sometimes one regrets the lost opportunities. I would have liked to have a child.'
'Yet you are still not old,' Jessica said gently.
Lady Hope seemed to come out of a reverie and laughed heartily. 'Oh, my dear,' she said, 'I am very firmly on the shelf and gathering dust. Two and thirty years old, you know, and no beauty to begin with. No matter.' She patted Jessica on the knee. 'I take pleasure these days in watching other people make good matches and produce children for Aunt Hope to play with. I was so glad to see Sir Godfrey arrive yesterday. I was afraid that with Charles away, he would not come. Not that he had anywhere else to go, of course, with his father away in
