“Why now, when you’ve scarcely paid me any notice for years?” She fiddled with her reticule strap. “I know I acted… Well, I was awfully glad to see you last night, and I did enjoy the dance. And after too. Very much, in fact. But that was… is a fairytale. I’m not a simpleton. Women like me don’t have the Duke of Dandridge paying them court when there are far lovelier, more suitable, and wealthier prospects.”
“Then don’t think of me as the duke, but as your friend of many, many years. One who has never held another as dear, and one who with all of his heart, wants to be more.” He trailed his finger along her jaw. “Much more, if you’ll let me.”
Jules settled his lips onto hers, tasting once again the sweetness of her mouth. He poured all of his yearning, his love into the kiss, communicating what he so desperately needed to tell her.
Without prompting, Jemmah opened her mouth, and using the skills he’d taught her last night, proceeded to send any vestige of logical thought he retained, spiraling out of control.
Holding her face between his palms, he angled her head to kiss her deeper still, savoring her velvety tongue sparring with his.
A muffled woof, followed by snuffling near his ankles reined in his passion.
What was Jules thinking, kissing her in broad daylight?
Evidently, even a pragmatic somber fellow such as himself, once besotted, didn’t think at all clearly.
What a splendid realization.
Still, he’d already been seen kissing her once, and even if his intentions were honorable, he’d not bring censure upon Jemmah.
Theo stepped halfway out the door and pulled her bold-colored Norwich shawl more snugly around her shoulders.
“My footman said he heard voices out here. Whatever are the two of you doing?”
“I’m trying to persuade Miss Dament to permit me to court her.”
Jules didn’t care who knew, and he needed Theo as an ally.
“And I haven’t agreed, as yet.” The warmth radiating from Jemmah’s eyes encouraged him.
She would agree. She must.
A smile wreathed Theo’s face, so exuberant, her ruby earbobs trembled.
“Well, if that isn’t the most splendid news I’ve heard in a great while.” With a swift glimpse about the courtyard, she beckoned them. “Come inside and tell me all.”
Her focus alit on the portmanteau near Jemmah’s foot, and her questioning gaze vacillated between Jules and Jemmah.
“Are you eloping?”
Jemmah gave a small, water-logged laugh and shook her head. “Nothing so romantic, I’m afraid, Aunt Theo.” She summoned a brave smile. “I’m in need of a place to stay. Indefinitely.”
“Ah.” Theo looped her arm through Jemmah’s leaving Jules to collect the beaten-about-the-edges valise. “You are welcome for as long as you want, my dear. I’m quite thrilled, actually.”
“I’m ever so grateful, Auntie.” Jemmah hugged her aunt’s arm.
Theo tossed a saucy glance over her shoulder.
“Now, tell me, what’s this business about Dandridge courting you?”
Three glorious weeks later.
Jemmah angled first one way, and then the other before the floor length oval looking glass.
The black-edged cerulean-blue walking ensemble was quite the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. But then again, that was what she thought with each new gown dear Aunt Theo or the Dowager Lady Lockhart bestowed upon her.
And each time, she’d insisted they’d gifted her quite enough and forbade them to purchase her a single thing more.
They’d laughed and pooh-poohed her.
One would think it should be easy to become accustomed to the gorgeous gowns, fallalls, fripperies… scented soaps and lotions… enough sleep for the first time in years. But it wasn’t easy, and Jemmah still couldn’t as yet reconcile herself to this new way of life.
Each time she approached the dowager about beginning her companionship duties, the dame dismissed her concerns, insisting there was time enough to worry about that later. She wouldn’t even permit Jemmah to attend her on their evenings out, claiming Aunt Theo more than capable of the task.
Aunt Theo would then take Lady Lockhart’s arm, leaving Jules to offer Jemmah his elbow. She suspected the two of match-making. How could she fault the dears when she desired the same thing?
After supper tonight, they were off to the theater again.
Oh, that first time had been so magical.
In a hastily-altered, borrowed gown of Aunt Theo’s, Jemmah had entered on Jules’s arm, for once appearing in public confident and proud.
Tucked in Auntie’s gallery box, Jemmah had tried to watch the ballet performance, but his hand holding hers, his lips mere inches away as he whispered in her ear, the timbre of his melodic baritone causing delicious little tremors...
Why, she couldn’t even recall the name of the ballet they’d watched.
Dabbing a bit of lily of the valley perfume behind each ear and upon each wrist, she grinned at Caesar sprawled before her balcony doors, muzzle on his black forepaws, and his big soulful eyes watching her every move.
He’d taken to her, almost as if he sensed she needed unconditional love, and Aunt Theo didn’t seem to mind. Or if she did, she kept the knowledge to herself. But Jemmah’s aunt also loved her without restriction, and even that would take time to become accustomed to.
She would, though.
She had every reason to, and he’d be here shortly.
Jemmah’s stomach tumbled in that wonderful wobbly way it did whenever her thoughts gravitated toward Jules. A wonder she could hold her food down with all the cavorting taking place in her middle these days.
“Miss Jemmah, that color becomes you. You look like a real lady, you do.” Mary’s mouth tipped into a cheeky grin as she fluffed the bed’s pillows. “Forgive my impertinence, but your sister would gnash her teeth if she saw you now.”
Undoubtedly.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Mary.”
Within a week of Jemmah’s leaving, Frazer Pimble had approached Jemmah and revealed Mama had dismissed Mary without reference. And since Aunt Theo insisted Jemmah needed a lady’s maid—to do what, for pity’s sake?—quite naturally, Jemmah had been determined to see Mary have the position.
Having two Pimbles in the household caused a bit of a conundrum at first, but Aunt Theo, always one to throw convention into the gutters, advised everyone to simply call the maid by her given name.
After tying her bonnet’s ribbons, Jemmah gathered her reticule and parasol.
Everywhere one looked, signs of an early spring were evident. Including the bright vivid green fern fronds, sunny jonquils, cheery primroses, and the shining orb in the sky splaying its golden fingers across the heavens.
Her heart glowed with warmth every bit as permeating and pleasurable.
These had been the happiest weeks of her life, and sometimes when she awoke in the middle of the night and the familiar despondency cloaked her, she had to remind herself she’d left her oppressive life behind.
Goodness, so much had changed in such a short while.
Not the least of which was Jules’s actively courting her—
Without permission.
Mama had refused to receive him each time he’d approached her on the matter.
He vowed he wouldn’t give up, that she’d eventually come around.
He didn’t know Mama.
She held a grudge and was about as malleable as dried mortar.