One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(19)

Jane tensed, meeting his dark gaze, hoping she appeared more composed than she felt. She had hoped to see him, but to look at him now, standing so rigidly, that cold veil over his eyes, a deep ache filled her chest.

She wanted him to look on her with something in his eyes, anything. Wanted some flicker of emotion to show itself in the hard angles of his face. Emotion that proved a shred of the boy she had known still existed, that the same passion that had sent him crashing into her parents' dining room, fed by his love for a woman who would never have him, still dwelled beneath his hard veneer.

She ached to think that no remnant of that young man existed. That her family had destroyed him.

But nothing showed on his face.

The boy she had found so easy to love was nowhere in evidence. The years had stolen him. He looked on her with eyes flat and cold as he lightly took her fingertips to bow over her hand. Foolish, she supposed, to hope she would see anything when he looked at her.





Chapter 10


Seth could not tear his gaze from Jane. She was dressed in another dull gray gown, this one possibly even more depressing than the last. And yet he felt just as overcome by the sight of her as he had been in the park.

He could not say what kept him standing before her when he knew he should excuse himself to his study and avoid her as he had vowed to do on any occasion that his sister might entertain her company, unwilling to permit her to rouse his desires anymore than she already had. Seth needed a wife. An uncomplicated female that did not inspire his passions. Such he would not find in Lady Jane Guthrie.

"Jane came for tea," Julianne volunteered.

Bowed over her hand, he schooled his features into a mask of apathy lest she think he felt anything at all when he looked at her. "Yes. I see that."

Certainly he felt nothing for her. No tender feelings, at any rate. Any softer emotion he had felt during their childhood died long ago, the very day her family tossed him from their home as if he were nothing more than a mangy dog.

"Lord St. Claire," Jane inclined her head, her manner tight and overly dignified, her voice rigid and clipped as she tugged her hand free of his. The consummate ton matron now. She bore no resemblance to the exuberant girl who had once pounced on his shoulders in his family's lake with an ear-splitting squeal. He stared intently at her face, searching for a glimpse of that girl—

strangely disappointed when he did not find her. Tempting morsel she may have grown, but no fire lurked beneath.

"Lady Guthrie. How nice to see you again," he returned politely. "I trust you've had a pleasant afternoon?"

The question was innocent enough, but even he heard the edge to his voice, the suspicion, the compulsion to make certain that her time with Julianne had passed smoothly. That Jane had not treated Julianne like some sublevel human as so many Society ladies did.

"I for one have had a splendid time," Julianne volunteered. "Jane is such a darling. We must never let her slip away again."

He cocked an eyebrow and dragged his gaze over her in slow perusal, lingering on the generous swell of her breasts rising and falling enticingly with her even breaths. He looked away when he began to swell against his breeches. Staring over her head, he sucked in a steadying breath and renewed his vow to avoid her company. To feel nothing at the sight of her.

"Indeed, we must not," he intoned, the flatness in his voice deliberate as he eyed the length of corridor and contemplated escape.

Jane's smile wobbled in the face of his seeming apathy.

His sister continued, her voice light and airy, a direct contrast to the thick tension swirling in the air. "I must say, Seth, Jane was quite vexed to hear you are not permitting me to join you at Vauxhall this evening."

Jane gasped, color flooding her face.

"Oh?" He leveled Jane a look that had sent many a sailor scurrying to the riggings. Impudent chit.

Her chin jerked higher under his glower. Indeed, she had turned into quite the tonnish lady. Nose in the air and quick to judge, quick to concern herself with matters out of her sphere and voice unsolicited opinions.

"I do hope he's not scowling at you right now, Jane," Julianne interrupted in aggravatingly cheerful tones. "Don't let him intimidate you."

"I fail to see how our social schedule is any concern of Lady Guthrie's," he cut in, the softness of his voice deceptive, considering the streak of irritation that burned through him. Jane glared at him, her hazel eyes bright as a moss-laden pond. If not for the trembling of her mouth, he would think her undaunted.

He stared back, trying not to focus too long on that mouth, on that full bottom lip that quivered enticingly. Her family may have tossed him out like a cur come to beg, but no whipped dog stood before her now. He would have her see that, have her know that nothing affected him, nothing would ever touch him again. He would give nothing, or no one, that power.

"Seth, be nice." Julianne swatted a hand in his general direction.

"It grows late," Jane murmured, her gaze darting over his shoulder as if she sought escape.

"Allow me to show you out," he heard himself suggest before he could consider why he would want to. To his sister, he added, "Why don't you freshen up and I'll take you and Rebecca for ices."

"Oh!" Her face brightened with delight. Turning to Jane, she hastily said farewell while eliciting another promise to return from her. He watched as Julianne and Rebecca hurried off, tension forming along his shoulders in knowing that he had suggested taking his sister for an ice in order to steal a moment alone with Jane.