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Persuading Patience Page 7
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She cast him a look, prickly with scepticism. “And whose fault is that?” she demanded, her gaze wary, the words entirely cynical. “I don’t doubt there have been women enough who would have loved you, if you’d let them.”
He shrugged, knowing that was true, but he’d never found anyone he cared for enough, trusted enough, to give them the truth. “Perhaps,” he admitted, wondering why in the name of God he was telling her all this. “But I never found anyone I wanted for anything more than what I’d already taken. Does that shock you?” he asked, surprised that she would endure this conversation with him at all. It wasn’t exactly a topic for the fairer sex in polite society.
Miss Pearson stared at him, a look that seemed to slide beneath his skin, stripping back the layers until every ugly thought or deed was exposed to her critical gaze. “No,” she said at length. “It appears I’m not easily shocked,” she added, a sour tone to her voice that puzzled him.
“How so?” he asked, wondering why she seemed so unhappy. She’d seemed such a confident and self-assured young woman when they’d first met - if rather terrifying. But now that confidence appeared to have been shaken, her self-esteem dented somehow. If he was responsible for that … a rather sick and anxious sensation made his chest feel tight with remorse.
Miss Pearson hesitated, looking around, perhaps to be sure they were not overheard. When she looked back at him she was blushing.
“Because I actually considered it,” she said, her voice taut with shame as she looked away from him again. “The offer you made.” August felt a strange sensation in his chest at her admission, a flicker of excitement at knowing she still wanted him. “I … I wanted to say yes and …” She stopped, her eyes rather bright all at once. “What kind of creature am I, that I would sell my sister’s happiness for the chance of a meaningless kiss?” She looked away, swallowing hard, and August had never hated himself more for making her feel bad about herself.
“Forgive me,” he said, feeling like the lowest creature on earth for having made her so unhappy. “I never intended …”
“Oh, it’s not your fault,” she snapped, turning back to him and looking impatient now, even as a tear spilled over and slid down her cheek. Before he could think about it, August reached out, wiping it away with his thumb.
“Don’t cry,” he begged, wondering if he could actually feel any worse. “I feel an utter bastard as it is.”
To his relief, she laughed at that, though she was still crying, too. “Good heavens,” she muttered, accepting the handkerchief he pressed into her hand. “Don’t tell me the famous rake actually has a heart beneath that splendid waistcoat?”
August snorted, relieved that her rather prickly nature hadn’t been lost entirely. “Of course not,” he replied, grinning at her as she wiped her eyes. “And anyone who tells you otherwise is a damned liar.”
Miss Pearson gave a rueful sniff. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “You’re really quite kind … even if you are a rake.” August laughed, amused that she’d been unable to resist digging at him a little. “I suppose I have a red nose now,” she added with a sigh.
“Not really,” he lied, smiling at her.
She huffed and shook her head. “You know, I would have thought a man of your sort would be a better liar.”
He grinned at her, chuckling. “I am,” he admitted. “With everyone but you. For some reason, you bring out the best and the worst in me at the same time, but I can’t seem to help but tell you the truth. I think because you are so forthright yourself, Miss Pearson, you deserve nothing less, I feel.”
Miss Pearson drew in a deep breath and then sighed, nodding. “Forthright,” she repeated, a rather enigmatic smile at her lips now. “Yes, there is a word that has been used about me often. Usually by men too well-bred to say what they really think.”
“Well, you surely can’t think that applies to me?” August retorted, pleased when she laughed at him.
“No.” She shook her head, smiling at him, and August realised it was the first time she had really smiled at him, not mocking him. It rather lit up her face. “That I don’t.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He fell silent for a moment, wondering if he was going to regret his next words. He might for many reasons, not least of which being that he might unintentionally manage to insult her again. “Miss Pearson,” he began, treading with care. “May I ask you something?”
She looked back at him, her gaze frank and open and he noticed that, this close, there were flecks of gold in the hazel of her eyes. “Of course,” she replied, curiosity in her expression as she watched him.
He drew in a breath. “How would it be if … if I repeated my offer, but I didn’t demand any time with your sister in return?”
Miss Pearson flushed, her mouth falling a little open in a manner that reminded him of what she’d felt like in his arms. He was aware of his body sitting up and taking note of her proximity, an awareness of her that was hard to explain but nonetheless undeniable. Yes, why not. It would be no hardship to reacquaint himself with those luscious lips after all.
“Why would you do that?” she demanded, instantly suspicious.
August snorted and raised an eyebrow. “You do remember that I’m the male of the species?”
She made a noise of disgust. “I’m hardly likely to forget that,” she muttered, folding her arms. “However, please do not try to pull the wool over my eyes. I know that you could find far more lovely companions to lavish your time on, with little more than a snap of your fingers, no doubt. So don’t try and fob me off with Spanish coin, for I won’t have it. What’s in it for you?” she demanded, so obviously on the defensive that August felt a pang of remorse for her. No, she was no beauty, perhaps, not compared to her lovely step-sister and mother, but she was very far from hideous. Though he admitted there was no accounting for the growing force of his desire to prove this was no charitable act. In truth, she was beginning to make him damned uncomfortable as he considered the idea of becoming better acquainted with the lush form under that dress. That she should find his attentions so very incomprehensible … it saddened him.
“Well,” he said, feeling all at once unaccountably nervous. “I thought that, perhaps, we could be friends.”
She blinked, the gold in her eyes vivid all at once as the sun moved higher. “You … you wish for my friendship?” she repeated, her voice faint and rather incredulous.
August smiled, finding himself as surprised as she was and equally sincere. “I do.” He took a breath and decided to be brutally honest, for once in his life. “The truth is, Miss Pearson, that I don’t have a lot of friends, and for whatever reason, I like your company. Well, interspersed with periods of intense aggravation,” he added with a wry smile. “I don’t see that changing, either, what with that sharp tongue of yours. However, I feel I am up to the challenge of enduring it.”
“Oh.” She stared at him, apparently at a complete loss for words, which was worth every bit of humility the admission had cost him. A tentative smile flickered at her mouth, a rather attractive flush of pink at her cheeks that reminded him again of how she’d looked after he’d kissed her. “Well, I must admit, I’ve rather enjoyed crossing swords with you, too.”
“Well, I knew that,” he said with a huff. “I’ve never known a woman to delight so in taking me down a peg or two.”
She beamed at him then and he felt a strange burst of pleasure at the sight of it. “I shan’t stop, you know.” There was a teasing look in her eyes, but he heard the warning in her voice and smiled.
“I should hope note. I expect you to keep my feet firmly on the ground.”
He watched as she smiled and looked away from him, picking at the grass beside her with a distracted air. “I would be glad to be your friend, my lord,” she said, her voice low. “But … but there is no need for … for any further arrangement on your part.”
August frowned, puzzled by her hesitation. “Yes, there is,” he said, his voice stern. “You’re unha
ppy and it is my doing. I want to make amends.”
He watched in frustration as she returned to ripping up the grass by its roots. “I don’t want your pity,” she said, her voice a little annoyed now, and August bit back a laugh. Looking around to ensure they were not being observed, he leaned in, close enough that his breath would be felt against her neck.
“Do you think I don’t want to kiss you again, you little fool?” He drew back to see the flush at her cheeks intensify and spread down her neck. Her eyes were dark now and he cursed the proximity of so many people. Laying her down on this blanket seemed like an eminently sensible way to spend a warm afternoon.
“You do?” she said, her surprise so evident that he laughed again.
“I do,” he assured her and then gave her a wink before he got to his feet. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Pearson, and don’t worry. I would never put your reputation at risk. I shall find a discreet way in which to meet you, you have my word.”
With that, he left Miss Pearson alone, and Miss Bridges to her many admirers, feeling strangely pleased with himself.
Chapter 8
“Wherein desires are heightened by anticipation, and the stakes grow higher.”
“No, no,” August said with growing impatience. “How many times have I told you, don’t hark on about your blessed rocks.”
Percy sent him a reproachful look and removed his glasses, cleaning them on a large handkerchief with great concentration. “Miss Bridges said it was fascinating,” he said, a rather sulky tone to his voice.
“Miss Bridges was angry with me for being rude, as she had every right to be,” August admitted with an sigh. “She was just being kind, I assure you.”
“Oh.”
Poor Nibley looked so deflated at this that August couldn’t help but backtrack a little. “Well, maybe she meant it, too,” he said, relieved by the hopeful look in the fellow’s eyes, but wondering if he’d have been better off being cruel to be kind. The fool followed Miss Bridges about like a devoted puppy. “But anyway, Percy. You must try and speak about the lady herself, no matter which lady you are with,” he added, hoping that Percy might spread his wings. It was true that August hadn’t made any great efforts to exert himself for Miss Bridges, as of yet. However, at some point he would have to take this seriously and get her on the hook if he intended to marry her. His funds were running perilously low as it was, and the idea of being buoyed by her considerable fortune was enough to make him sigh with relief. When that happened, however, Percy would be desperately disappointed, and he didn’t want to see the fellow miserable after all.
“In fact, Percy, old chap, that’s a pretty decent idea,” he said, warming to the idea. “Talk to some other young ladies, too. Practise on them before trying with Miss Bridges, then you’ll have gotten the hang of things. It will also do you the power of good to not be sat at her feet like a lapdog for an evening or two. Never make yourself too available,” he said, a scolding tone to his voice as he felt all at once like a school master. “But do remember what I said. Compliment their dress, say, Miss Whoever-It-May-Be is the loveliest lady at whatever event you’re at, ask about their interests, what did they do with their day? And for heaven’s sake, look interested and pay attention, even if you’re bored to tears.”
Percy replaced his spectacles with care and nodded, his face grave. “I shall, August. Thank you,” he added, his expression so serious that August felt a stab of guilt. If the poor fool thought he had the slightest chance with Caroline Bridges, he had rocks in his head. His fortune might have induced some ladies to overlook his lack of address and the fact that he looked like a half-starved heron, but Miss Bridges had her own resources. It would take more than that to catch her. Just as well, he thought with a sigh, doing a mental tally of his own dwindling funds and how long he would be able to remain in Bath. Well, he wouldn’t dwell on it. He wasn’t in the basket just yet. Besides, there were more pleasurable things to consider. He smiled with anticipation as he considered the meeting before him.
As Miss Pearson was considered pretty much on the shelf, she was allowed a deal more freedom than her younger sister. Although frowned upon by the real sticklers for propriety, there was nothing untoward about her doing a little shopping in Bath by herself, or even taking a turn about Sydney Gardens.
August looked at the clock and got to his feet. “See you later, then,” he said to Percy, feeling remarkable light-hearted. “I’m going out for a while. You going to Mrs Grant’s this evening?” he added as Percy looked up and nodded.
“Yes, Colonel Grant invited me.”
“Excellent,” August replied, beaming. “I’ll see you there then and you can impress me with how many young ladies you can keep entertained with your new skills.”
Percy returned a gloomy look as August shut the door on him. Despite his financial woes and the lack of progress with Miss Bridges, August felt in remarkably good spirits. And why not? The sun was shining, he had an agreeable evening ahead of him, and … He paused for a moment as he realised his meeting with Miss Pearson was the most responsible for his contented frame of mind. Well, and what of it? Having a lady freely admit that she wants you to kiss her wasn’t the sort of thing to dash a fellow’s spirits, after all.
August strode through the centre of town, and on towards the grandeur of Great Pultney Street. To his relief, the streets were deserted, though he was not surprised. He’d chosen the day and the place with care after many weeks of frustrated planning. He’d meant what he’d said however and would do nothing to put Miss Pearson’s reputation at risk. The appearance of a travelling fair on the outskirts of town had brought much excitement to all and been most timely. If he’d had to wait any longer, he felt he might run mad as even his dreams had become heated with visions of Miss Pearson in increasingly erotic circumstances. Today, however, his luck was in and most people were eager to visit the fair. The many markets stalls, combined with acrobats and jugglers and exotic animals, boxing matches, puppet shows and strongest man contests were enough to draw all walks of life, from street urchin to the cream of the ton. That being the case, August was pleased to discover that the Stanley Gardens were empty.
Nonetheless, he was cautious as he approached the grotto, casting an eye about him before stepping inside. It was actually rather pleasant in the cool darkness after the heat of the day outside. Slipping his pocket watch free, he checked the time. He’d come early, wanting to be here well before Miss Pearson arrived. The idea that she might get cold feet if she spent too long lingering in the dark grotto had occurred to him and he wasn’t about to risk it. Not that Miss Pearson seemed the kind to panic. She was far too bold for that.
Pacing up and down the grotto, he admitted that he was beyond impatient to see her. The past two weeks had been interminable, but still he scolded himself for acting like a green boy, over exited at the promise of his first kiss. During the past weeks, they had bumped into each other almost daily and August had found himself looking forward to those brief encounters more and more. In fact, of late, the meetings had been less accidental than he might have implied, as he actively sought her out. Of course everyone else believed he was still interested in Miss Bridges, but he had put that on hold, too intrigued by Miss Pearson for the moment to divide his attention. Her barbed comments seemed only for appearances now, so that no one suspected their friendship, and he loved sparring with her, seeing the flash of appreciation in her eyes when he scored a particularly witty hit. Underneath it all, however, was the knowledge that this was to come, that she was waiting for a time and a place and then she would come to him. No sultry beauty or experienced Cyprian had ever caught his imagination or his desires in such a way. It made his blood simmer in a way he’d never experienced before, the anticipation growing so great that he’d been hard pressed not to grab the next opportunity to drag her into a quiet room and throw caution to the wind. The heated look he saw in her eyes with growing intensity did nothing to help his equilibrium. He suspected that if he’d su
ggested it, she’d have gone with him without so much as a murmur.
Prim and proper Miss Pearson, risking everything, just to kiss him. It was extraordinary, and somewhat unbelievable.
He’d seen her just last night at a rather dull music recital. He’d been bored to tears, the music must have offended anyone with anything approaching an appreciation for the art, and he’d simply wanted to leave with all speed. Then he’d turned and found Miss Pearson looking at him from the other side of the room. Her lips had quirked into a smile and she’d rolled her eyes to the heavens, clearly in complete agreement with his estimation of the evening’s entertainments. He’d been so startled that he’d burst out laughing, drawing furious hushing sounds from those around him and a bewildered look from Percy who was sitting at his side. He’d been forced to fake a coughing fit to cover up his hilarity which had only been compounded when he’d looked back across the room and seen Miss Pearson with her head bowed, shoulders shaking in a fashion that suggested she was finding his predicament amusing in the extreme. August smiled as he remembered and then looked up as he heard movement at the entrance of the cave.
Miss Pearson entered, clutching her reticule in front of her and looking terribly nervous.
“Hello,” he said, smiling at her in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion as he suddenly felt ridiculously nervous himself.
“Hello,” she replied, a slightly awkward smile at her lips and that one word breathless enough to tell him what she was feeling. He held his hands out and moved towards her. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hands in his. August removed her reticule from her grasp, placing it on a rocky part of the ground were it would come to no harm. Taking her hands again, he raised one to his lips.