Every Time We Kiss

Book 2: Spinster Club

by Christie Kelley

Genres: Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Regency Romance

Synopsis

Guilt Kept Them Apart It's been five years since Lady Jennette Selby's fiancé died. Each courting season since has been filled with suitors eager to win her affection. But Jennette's guilt has prompted her to swear off marriage. For her secrets are as dark as she is beautiful, and the accidental death of her fiancé was tainted by a forbidden attraction. . . Passion Brought Them Together Matthew Harris, the new earl of Blackburn, has been scorned by the ton for unintentionally killing Lady Jennette's fiancé. Forced to sell his estates and abandon his tenants if he does not marry a wealthy, respectable woman, Matthew turns to Lady Jennette to help him find a suitable wife. But sharing such close quarters only re-ignites an all-consuming desire neither can resist--even as every shadow of the past threatens to tear them apart. . . Praise for Christie Kelley and Every Night I'm Yours. . . "Sometimes becoming a fallen woman isn't as easy as it sounds. Oh! My!" --Kasey Michaels, New York Times bestselling author "Her appealing characters, sexual tension and charming story will enchant readers." -- Romantic Times

Release date: March 3, 2009

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 349

Sample

London, 1816

“So this is really goodbye, then?” Vanessa stared up at him with watery blue eyes.

Matthew tried his best to be the coldhearted scoundrel his reputation demanded, but it never worked with her. Drawing her into his arms, he said with regret, “You know I can’t afford your retainer any longer.”

“I always thought…”

She didn’t need to say another word. He knew exactly what she thought and maybe at one time it might have worked. As a second son, he could afford to be frivolous with his reputation, but not now. Two accidents and his life had changed in so many ways.

“It’s not fair,” she mumbled into his chest. “I know a mistress isn’t supposed to fall in love with her protector, but…”

“Shh, Vanessa.”

“How could you not have known the debts he incurred?”

He stroked her long, blonde hair, savoring the silky texture. He would miss her but the time had come to end this with her. She had become far too serious about loving him and becoming more than just a mistress.

“I thought that was David’s responsibility. I had no idea that the two of them were so irresponsible with the estates and the money.” Pausing for a moment, he finally added, “And I was no better than either of them.”

“I could help you,” she whispered.

“I’m afraid you know that would never work.” Vanessa’s love had been constant for a year. While he didn’t return the feelings in the same manner, he never wanted to hurt her with the truth.

“I would be a good wife.”

Matthew blew out a long breath wanting to end this quickly, but he felt unable to hurt her. She had been there for him when he needed her.

“Darling, you will make some man a wonderful wife. And as soon as I get myself out of this mess my father and brother left me in, I’ll help you any way I can.”

“But a wife, Matthew? Must you marry to save yourself?” She drew her fingers along the lapel of his jacket.

“You know as well as I, there is no other way out of this disaster.” But he still wondered just what type of woman would want him and his reputation.

She pulled away and looked up at him. Her diminutive stature forced her neck back. “Do you honestly think you will be able to find a woman of your social rank?”

“Yes. I am the earl now. There are always fathers who want their daughters to be a countess.”

“Until her father discovers your name. Then he’ll make certain his little darling doesn’t marry a killer.”

His body tensed. “I will find a wife, Vanessa.”

“It’s all her fault, Matthew. You should make her pay for this. Go to her and let her family pay you for what you did for her.”

“I don’t believe they know what happened that day.” At least that had been the plan. No one would ever know except them.

“Well, they should.” She turned away and dropped to the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest. “She has spent the last five years doing as she pleased while you were the one in distress. You were the one scorned. Her reputation never suffered from her actions that day.”

“This has nothing to do with her, Vanessa. Everything that happened is my father’s fault. He should have known better than to gamble away his fortune. And David was no better. Besides, I need more than money. I need my reputation improved with the help of a woman of quality.”

He only hoped that some man out there would be so desirous of a title for his daughter that he would willingly ignore the baggage that came with it. After five long years, he craved the friendship of his peers. Respectable peers. Not the scoundrels who befriended him once he’d destroyed his reputation.

“I should be leaving.” He knelt down and clasped her hands in his. “You will be all right, Vanessa. You’re beautiful and will have another protector in days.”

Vanessa looked away from him. “I don’t want another protector, Matthew.”

“It will never work out between us.”

She stared wistfully down at their joined hands. “After you have married, if I’m available…” She paused, blinked hard and then continued, “Will you have me again?”

Matthew dropped his head to her lap. He’d always assumed someday in the far off future, he would fall in love and the woman wouldn’t care about his reputation. But now? There was every likelihood the woman he married would only do so in order to be the next Countess of Blackburn. And he doubted he’d ever fall in love with a woman whose only concern was herself. At the same time, he knew his time with Vanessa was done.

“If I don’t love her, then I might be tempted to take a mistress again,” he said only to appease her.

He looked up to see a catlike grin cross her face as she said, “Then I will pray you don’t fall in love.”

He smiled back at her. He knew there was little chance of falling for a woman who only wanted his title.

“Perhaps I might think of a few women you should court,” she said, absently twirling a lock of golden hair around her finger. “After all, I do know quite a few gentlemen with sisters.”

“Oh?”

She rolled her blue eyes and smiled coyly. “I didn’t mean I know them that way, Matthew. But I always have to keep my options open. There’s no telling when a girl might find herself on the street.”

“Like now, perhaps?”

“I’m hardly on the street. With the money you’ve generously given me over the past two years, I will be able to stay here for months.”

He rose and straightened his gray jacket. “Wish me well?”

Vanessa pouted but stood and wrapped her arms around him. Leaning in close, she kissed him fully on the mouth. For once, her overt passion had no impact on him. He was done with her. Slowly, she drew away.

“I won’t say good-bye, Matthew. You will return to me, begging me to take you back.”

“Good-bye, Vanessa,” he whispered.

 

“Come along,” Somerton said, half dragging Matthew into the candlelit ballroom with him.

“I wasn’t invited,” Matthew insisted.

“Neither was I. But it’s never stopped me.” Somerton paused and watched the crowd on the dance floor. He glanced over at Matthew and shook his head. “You have a leaf in your hair.”

“Well, if you hadn’t insisted we jump the fence, I wouldn’t have been snagged on that branch.” Matthew quickly drew his hands through his hair. The last time he’d sneaked into a ball he’d been seventeen. Now, thirteen years later, he was still acting like an immature adolescent.

“I really don’t think we should be here,” he tried again.

Somerton shot him a quelling look. “Men with reputations like ours don’t get invited. If you wish to go through with this mad idea of marriage, you must be in the company of women. Preferably women of your rank.”

“Very well.”

Matthew had spent the past week and a half attempting to secure invitations to parties, balls, even musicales. Anything that would bring him back into the ton. Unfortunately, nothing had worked well so far. With the Season not in full swing for months, he had to make do with the few parties held in London in the fall.

His first musicale ended in disaster as no one would even sit near him. He hadn’t needed to hear the women to know they were discussing his attendance behind their brightly colored fans.

“I’m off to the gaming room. Enjoy yourself, if that is possible,” Somerton said, then walked away.

Enjoy himself? Hardly. Matthew scanned the room for anyone he might know who could make introductions if needed. The large dance floor appeared washed in colored silk as couples glided past with the variety of dance steps. Crystal chandeliers reflected the flickering candlelight diffusing a warm glow throughout the room.

He’d missed the sights and sounds of Society.

As he continued to look around, he noticed people had detected his appearance. A few fingers pointed his way, heads nodded in his direction, and fans rose to cover gossiping lips.

“What are you doing here?”

Matthew turned to see Nicholas Tenbury, the Marquess of Ancroft and the future Duke of Belford, standing next to him. Matthew needed to impart a casual tone when all he felt was tension stringing his muscles taut.

“I heard this was a ball for the scoundrels of the ton.”

Ancroft laughed. “Well, when I throw a ball, no one knows for certain who will attend.”

“I take it you won’t have your footmen toss me out on the streets?”

“Why should I care if you are here? Your reputation doesn’t bother me a bit. If people can’t understand an accident when one happens then I pity them.”

Matthew blinked. This was quite possibly the first time in five years that someone had defended him. What amazed him was the fact that it came from Ancroft. They were barely acquainted with each other. As a second son, Matthew had befriended the less lofty of the ton.

“Besides, I never believed that nonsense about you being in love with her. She isn’t your type of woman.”

“Thank you,” he said softly even as heat crossed his cheeks. He wondered why Ancroft decided she wasn’t Matthew’s type. Five years ago, she’d been everything a man could want in a woman. He scanned the room…Was she here tonight?

He glanced over at Nicholas, who shook his head as if he could read his mind.

“She is not in attendance. They are still at the estate. Although, I believe they will return by week’s end for her birthday ball.”

Matthew gave him a sharp nod and released a breath. He’d forgotten her birthday was in October. But he needn’t worry about that, for a few days at least. Perhaps by the time she returned, he would have a woman to court. Then he would have no need to see her again.

“Come along and I’ll introduce you to a few people.” Nicholas looked around the room. “With whom did you slink in—Somerton?”

“Yes.”

“Crafty scoundrel. He’s always stealing into someone’s party for a chance to play the gaming tables. Damn man always wins, too.”

For the first time in weeks, Matthew laughed.

As he walked the boundary of the dance floor, the whispers followed him. Nicholas stopped beside an older woman dressed in gold satin with a matching turban wrapped snuggly around her head.

“Mrs. Layton, may I introduce Lord Blackburn.”

Without a word, her eyes widened, and then she pursed her lips and walked away. The cut was direct, why was he surprised?

“Well, this may be harder than I assumed,” Nicholas commented. “She’s a haughty bitch and her daughter no better. For a woman whose husband left her a fortune from illegal activities, I would have thought she’d be more open to an introduction.”

If that was the reaction from her, he could only imagine the response from the others. After several more attempts at introductions, Mr. Seymour allowed him to dance with his daughter. He walked to the dance floor with the quaking Miss Sarah Seymour and thought the pale woman might just faint dead away.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” he asked.

She could only nod with her big doe eyes blinking madly. She continually glanced to the side of the dance floor where two young ladies stood watching their every move. They looked as if they might beat him with their fans should he make one improper move.

As they danced, he attempted a few more times to get the mute Miss Sarah to speak. Nothing worked. The poor girl with her watery brown eyes and pale skin appeared scared to death of him. When the dance ended, he quickly returned her to her father without a word.

Tired of the music and overly loud whispers, he headed to the garden. A beautiful full moon lit his way as he avoided the secluded nooks taken by couples looking for a bit of privacy. The soft whispers and moans of the couples only increased his frustration.

It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult. He had thought with inheriting the title the ton might have forgotten his reputation. Damn them all. Here he’d done the honorable thing for a friend and no one even knew. Not that he was looking for accolades on being a good friend and chivalrous man.

But could no one see the truth?

Other than the accident, he had been an upstanding citizen. He never seduced an innocent young lady and rarely even chased the widows. He much preferred the companionship of a steady mistress.

He sat on an iron bench and stared out into the dying garden. Soon all the leaves would be gone, the flowers dead, and he’d still be in this damned situation. After a long talk with his solicitor this afternoon, he knew he had enough money to last until the end of the year. Ten weeks at most. Then the property he legally could let go of would have to be sold. The tenants possibly put out on the street in the middle of winter.

He couldn’t let that happen to them.

To him.

There had to be another way out of this mess. But he had no time. Even if he took a job (as if anyone would hire an earl), the money earned would never cover his expenses.

It was all her fault.

Vanessa’s words haunted him. There was one woman who could fix his problems. And cause him untold others.

It was all her fault.

She should have accepted responsibility. Except, for all he knew, his words had caused her actions that day. He should have kept his mouth firmly shut.

Besides, it wasn’t all her fault. He’d never given her the chance to take the blame. She had done only what he told her to do, play the frivolous lady with no cares, except of course the current fashion of the day.

He closed his eyes and pictured her raven-black hair, sparkling blue eyes that always held a hint of humor, and legs so long he’d wanted to kiss every inch of them. He wondered how much she might have changed.

Shaking his head, he attempted to rid his mind of these errant thoughts. He couldn’t see her again. He’d promised to stay out of her life, leave her and her family alone as penance for his part in what happened that day.

And yet, now he had no choice but to reenter Society. Interact with her friends and, quite possibly, her. He’d paid his dues so now she would have to accept his presence at balls and whatever else he decided to attend. If he actually were invited to a ball, which at this point seemed very unlikely.

He still hadn’t determined how he would integrate himself back into the same Society that shunned him years ago. The reactions so far had not given him any encouragement. Embers of anger flamed to a red heat again.

He had paid his reparations for his small part of what happened that day. And he didn’t even know if his words had affected her. For all he knew, she might have scorned his heartfelt speech. She’d certainly rejected his kiss that morning. While he spent five years in purgatory for his action, she’d done nothing but go back to her prosperous life of shopping, painting, and socializing.

No one knew of her part in the destruction of his life.

Vanessa thought she knew the entire story, but she did not.

No one knew everything, except him.

“Come along, it’s your turn now,” Sophie demanded.

Jennette stood by the refreshment table and looked over at Sophie. The fancy-dress ball was in full swing. Sophie had dressed like a gypsy in bright-colored skirts with her dark hair falling upon her back and a red mask covering half her face. Jennette had chosen the white gown of an angel to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday.

“But my guests,” Jennette protested.

“They will be fine without you for a few minutes.”

“I promised Lansing a dance and Colby one after that,” Jennette tried again.

“We need to do this now before the musicians take their break. Once that happens, I’ll be too busy.”

“But…”

“No more protests. You invited me to keep everyone entertained with my fortune-telling.” Sophie grabbed Jennette’s hand and tugged her toward the doorway, down the hallway to the salon. The small room had been set for Sophie to read people’s fortunes, and she’d been doing a brisk business all evening.

“Yes, keep them entertained, not me. I don’t even believe in such things as fortune-telling.”

No one could predict the future, even if her friend was quite recognized for doing just that. Especially her matchmaking fortunes. The last thing Jennette desired was anyone telling her of her future. She didn’t want to know, not when she’d tried so hard to forget her past.

“I know you don’t believe in this, which is why I can’t understand your vehement protests. It’s just for fun. After all, it is your birthday.”

Jennette had waited five long years for this day. After signing more legal papers than she’d ever imagined today, she was free. With the inheritance from her grandmother, she finally had the money to do what she should have done years ago.

“Besides, you will be leaving to study with that master in Florence soon. You should want to know if everything will go as expected.”

Sophie motioned for Jennette to sit in the yellow damask chair while she took the seat across from her. “I will, of course, come visit you. But I shall miss you dreadfully.”

Study with a master in Florence. The lie she’d told everyone from her mother to her best friends. No one knew the truth. No one could ever learn why she had to leave England. She had only waited so she could gain her inheritance and live comfortably. Now it was his turn to have a chance at happiness, even if it meant her misery.

With her gone, the memory of what happened that day would slowly leave the minds of the ton. He would be able to come back into Society, find a lovely woman, and marry. He was the type of man who would want a family and he deserved one, especially now that he held the title.

She had to leave now—for him. He had given her the past five years of peace. This was the least she could do for him.

“Now take off your mask and give me your hand,” Sophie demanded.

Knowing it was useless to argue with her stubborn friend, Jennette did as commanded. In seven years of friendship, she had never let Sophie read her tea leaves, her palm, or any other thing the medium might want. But there seemed no dissuading Sophie tonight.

“Oh my,” Sophie said, holding Jennette’s hand with her eyes closed.

“What is it?”

“I sense a deep secret you are keeping from everyone.”

She yanked her hand away only to have Sophie frown and grab it again. Jennette immediately thought of something to block Sophie’s intrusive sensations: dresses. Jennette imagined herself inspecting every dress she owned, anything to keep Sophie from determining her secret. In her mind, she opened her linen-press and pulled out her violet silk gown. The dress needed some trim, perhaps lace.

Was this working?

She needed to think of something else, quickly. Shoes! She had more shoes than dresses.

What was wrong with her? Sophie was her friend. But that did not matter, not even her friends could know her secret. What else could she think of?

“Stop fretting, Jennette. I can’t guess your secret. But I am a little surprised you have told no one. It’s not like you.”

“Do you see anything else?” Jennette asked, attempting to get Sophie on another topic.

“A man,” Sophie whispered. A deep frown marred her exotic beauty. “Perhaps it’s your new painting instructor in Florence.”

Since Jennette was only pretending to have a painting instructor, she highly doubted he was the man Sophie saw in her trance. After all, when she’d devised her plan to move to Florence, she had to create a valid reason for leaving. Enriching her artistic skills seemed the perfect solution.

“What does he look like?”

“I can’t see him like a portrait, Jennette. I only get fleeting images.”

“Images of what?”

“Just bits and pieces of things,” she replied with a delicate shrug of her shoulders.

“But what do you see now?” Jennette’s impatience rose.

“Darkness,” Sophie whispered with her eyes still closed. “I see darkness surrounding this man like a shroud.”

“Anything else?” Who could this man be? Some swarthy Italian who would sweep her off her feet? A man to help her forget her past and forge a brilliant future?

“His eyes are fascinating—light gray that lend a softness to him.” Sophie sighed. “Such sad eyes.”

Gray eyes.

Jennette swallowed. Surely, there were men in Florence who had gray eyes and chestnut hair—she pulled her hand out of Sophie’s grip again and stood. Sophie never said the man had chestnut hair, so certainly she must be thinking of another.

It had to be someone else.

“I must get back to my guests now.”

“Of course,” Sophie replied with a strange little smile. “Just remember, Jennette, I was right about Avis and Banning.”

Jennette walked to the door and paused at the threshold. Her brother and new sister-in-law had been happily married now for two months. And Sophie had helped make that match by scheming to get them together at a party. While Jennette doubted Sophie’s plan had really made a big difference, she had known about them before they even knew themselves.

But Sophie couldn’t be right about this one. Jennette had to believe that because the alternative was unimaginable. He’d promised to leave her alone after that fateful morning.

“What does he want from me, Sophie?” she whispered from the doorway.

“I cannot know for certain. But have a care, Jennette. With all the darkness surrounding him, I don’t think anything he might want could be good.”

She nodded sharply and left the room. With shaking hands, she retied her mask and readied herself to enter the ball again. Yet, when she reached the small ballroom of her brother’s house, she wasn’t ready to reenter the party. All the well-wishers and festivities could wait just a few minutes while she tried to compose herself. She turned and walked to the back terrace, hoping for some peace.

The cool wind made her shiver as she left the terrace for the dark garden. Hopefully, the chill in the air would keep the guests inside. Peering around, she noticed no one out here.

Thank God.

After taking a seat in the shadowy corner by a rose bush, she spread out her white satin gown and sighed. Unable to sit back due to the lace wings tied on her back, she leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands.

Sophie had to be wrong. He would never seek her out. He had promised John he would protect her name but there was no reason for him to speak with her.

She shook her head and inhaled the musty smell of dead. . .