luck with.”
Jack caught her wrist. “If I can believe you have changed, why can’t you believe it of me? All society knows
you
are the one with a lover, Carys. Not me.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “That is none of your business.”
He stared back at her, visibly biting back whatever he had intended to say. “You are, of course, right. Please forgive me. We were discussing our plans to meet in Wales. Shall I come to your dwelling?”
Carys picked up her reticule and walked across to the door. “I would rather we met on neutral territory.” She didn’t want him anywhere near her home until they decided their future. “How would it be if I accompanied you to Swansea? You could conclude your business, and I could be available to discuss our future when you were not otherwise occupied.”
Jack raked a hand through his hair, his gaze considering. “That will be acceptable. May I contact you tomorrow as to my plans?”
He opened the door for her. Carys dropped him a stiff curtsey and walked out into the shadowed tavern. The sudden darkness disorientated her and she didn’t have time to protest when Jack pushed her against the wall. She stared defiantly into his eyes as his mouth moved downward and his hand closed around the back of her neck.
He kissed her with such slow, deliberate thoroughness that she had to fist her hands against the wall to stop her response. When he finally lifted his head, he rubbed his finger against her lips.
“Aye,” he whispered, “I thought so. You taste the same as well.”
Carys pushed at his chest and he stepped away, hands held up in apparent surrender, but it meant nothing. If he kissed her again, she would let him. To her relief, he strolled out into the yard, giving her a few seconds to compose herself. She straightened her bonnet, patted her hot cheeks and scowled at the heavy oak door. Trust Jack to take advantage of her momentary weakness. Had her attempt to appear as a sophisticated society lady made him believe that she enjoyed being kissed in dark corners?
She brought her fingers to her lips and guiltily considered her desire to kiss him back. It was all Oliver Rice’s fault. If he would only kiss her properly, she would never dream of enjoying or responding to Jack’s attentions. As she had told Jack, she wasn’t some sixteen-year-old virgin. She was a married woman who was familiar with the pleasures to be found in the marital bed.
She pushed open the door and stepped out into the winter sunshine. Jack stood with his back to her, talking to one of the stable boys. With her troubled thoughts still on the joys of marriage, Carys found herself mentally undressing him. Although his face was thinner and harder, his body had filled out in the past five years. How would he feel now against her naked skin?
She choked down a small sound at her own audacity and blushed to the roots of her hair as Jack swung around. He gave her a slow, satisfied smirk as if he had read her mind. She clutched her reticule to her chest and smiled brightly.
“Shall we go, my lord? I am engaged to meet with the Duchess of Diable Delamere this afternoon and I would hate to be late.”
Jack strolled over and held out his arm. “Don’t worry, my lady. I’ll get you home in good time.”
He winked at the stable boy and turned out onto the busy street. The blaring sound of a coach horn reverberated over their heads and the quiet yard behind them became a hive of activity as one of the first passenger coaches swept in.
Jack deftly protected Carys from the press of bodies as the path narrowed to allow the coach through. “Give the duchess my regards, will you? She has been very good to me.”
His eyebrows rose as he studied her skeptical expression. “The duchess employed me when I was down to my last farthing.” He tossed a coin she doubted he could afford to a beggar. “I was contemplating crawling back to my father and begging for a loan.” His mouth quirked up at the corner.
Jack caught her wrist. “If I can believe you have changed, why can’t you believe it of me? All society knows
you
are the one with a lover, Carys. Not me.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “That is none of your business.”
He stared back at her, visibly biting back whatever he had intended to say. “You are, of course, right. Please forgive me. We were discussing our plans to meet in Wales. Shall I come to your dwelling?”
Carys picked up her reticule and walked across to the door. “I would rather we met on neutral territory.” She didn’t want him anywhere near her home until they decided their future. “How would it be if I accompanied you to Swansea? You could conclude your business, and I could be available to discuss our future when you were not otherwise occupied.”
Jack raked a hand through his hair, his gaze considering. “That will be acceptable. May I contact you tomorrow as to my plans?”
He opened the door for her. Carys dropped him a stiff curtsey and walked out into the shadowed tavern. The sudden darkness disorientated her and she didn’t have time to protest when Jack pushed her against the wall. She stared defiantly into his eyes as his mouth moved downward and his hand closed around the back of her neck.
He kissed her with such slow, deliberate thoroughness that she had to fist her hands against the wall to stop her response. When he finally lifted his head, he rubbed his finger against her lips.
“Aye,” he whispered, “I thought so. You taste the same as well.”
Carys pushed at his chest and he stepped away, hands held up in apparent surrender, but it meant nothing. If he kissed her again, she would let him. To her relief, he strolled out into the yard, giving her a few seconds to compose herself. She straightened her bonnet, patted her hot cheeks and scowled at the heavy oak door. Trust Jack to take advantage of her momentary weakness. Had her attempt to appear as a sophisticated society lady made him believe that she enjoyed being kissed in dark corners?
She brought her fingers to her lips and guiltily considered her desire to kiss him back. It was all Oliver Rice’s fault. If he would only kiss her properly, she would never dream of enjoying or responding to Jack’s attentions. As she had told Jack, she wasn’t some sixteen-year-old virgin. She was a married woman who was familiar with the pleasures to be found in the marital bed.
She pushed open the door and stepped out into the winter sunshine. Jack stood with his back to her, talking to one of the stable boys. With her troubled thoughts still on the joys of marriage, Carys found herself mentally undressing him. Although his face was thinner and harder, his body had filled out in the past five years. How would he feel now against her naked skin?
She choked down a small sound at her own audacity and blushed to the roots of her hair as Jack swung around. He gave her a slow, satisfied smirk as if he had read her mind. She clutched her reticule to her chest and smiled brightly.
“Shall we go, my lord? I am engaged to meet with the Duchess of Diable Delamere this afternoon and I would hate to be late.”
Jack strolled over and held out his arm. “Don’t worry, my lady. I’ll get you home in good time.”
He winked at the stable boy and turned out onto the busy street. The blaring sound of a coach horn reverberated over their heads and the quiet yard behind them became a hive of activity as one of the first passenger coaches swept in.
Jack deftly protected Carys from the press of bodies as the path narrowed to allow the coach through. “Give the duchess my regards, will you? She has been very good to me.”
His eyebrows rose as he studied her skeptical expression. “The duchess employed me when I was down to my last farthing.” He tossed a coin she doubted he could afford to a beggar. “I was contemplating crawling back to my father and begging for a loan.” His mouth quirked up at the corner.
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