Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

“Do you, Miss Montrose?”

She wasn’t sure what he meant. Was that tone low, enquiring, tinged with…disappointment?

He went on, “I can’t help thinking about what the ladies were saying at dinner.”

“About finding me a nice farmer?” Eliza smiled.

“Yes, that. But about lost opportunities. I’m thinking about Mr Perceval and also Mr Morley. Both were denied you—wrongly. You should be happily married, now.”

“But I’m not. Nor am I the only woman who has a tale of tragedy to tell, Mr Montrose.” She raised one shoulder slightly. “I am fortunate, though, to have known love. I can’t imagine what it must be to have lived like Aunt Montrose—so bereft of human kindness. She was never loved. She can’t have been, else she’d not have treated me as she did. That’s why I can’t regret my past. I did know love. I took the love that was offered to me, not knowing it was forbidden. I’ve paid a high price, but how can I wish the past undone? I have Jack.”

“And what is more important than one’s child?”

She frowned. “You do understand, Mr Patmore, that there is more than one kind of love? The love I feel for Jack is very different from the love I feel for you.”

He shifted, uncomfortably. “I was going to get to that. I know how deeply you love your son. I understand it’s different

from the love you felt for Mr Perceval. And for Mr Morley. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and my marriage offer stands.”

“That’s romantic,” she remarked with heavy sarcasm, feeling dragged down by a great weight of disappointment. “A sensible woman would accept, but I have too much pride. So, no. I won’t marry you, Mr Patmore. Not when I know your offer is prompted by decency with no doubt some judicious prompting by the Brightwell sisters, and because I’m penniless, and you somehow feel responsible for me. I would ask you to kiss me, though.”

What had she to lose? She could never sink her pride to accept his offer of marriage, but since the reason for his hitherto reluctance was because he considered her fallen, she would take what she could.

He hesitated, though she saw the longing in his eyes and revelled in that small power she had over him. “I couldn’t take advantage like that, Miss Montrose. Not if there is to be…nothing more between us.”

“I would say there was a great deal between us still, Mr Patmore.” She stepped closer and twined her hands about his neck. “You were in love with the idea of marrying a virtuous woman. But just because I failed to live up to your imaginings doesn’t mean you don’t desire me.”

“Are you taunting me?”

“Not at all. I just would like you to kiss me.”

His lips parted slightly. In surprise, she thought, as much as anything else, as she drew his head down.

The moment they touched hers, it was like flame to parchment. Followed by instant conflagration. Their last kiss had been consuming; this was incendiary. As his tongue breached the seam of her lips to explore the cavern of her mouth, she felt a tremendous release, then her knees gave way and she was in his arms. She clung to him, sensation fizzing through her veins, her heart on fire.

Eliza moaned at the heat of his wet mouth upon the swell of her breast. A dull, throbbing ache between her legs made her restless for more but here, by the stream, was not the place, and she would have to be satisfied with what he was prepared to offer her—now.

He was hardly about to lay her on the mossy bank and make ardent love to her with no marriage in the offing. Mr Patmore was far too honorable for that.

Arching to meet him, Eliza closed her eyes to better soak in the sweetness of her last encounter with love.

“Mr Patmore, another letter has arrived for you!” Mrs Dorley hurried up the passage and entered the breakfast parlour.

“Where is Miss Montrose?” Rufus asked his two breakfast companions as he took the letter. He knew the reason for his housekeeper’s excitement, and he felt nervous and a little sick with expectation.

“She went riding very early with Devil,” said Lady Fenton. “Long before I was up.”

“Do tell us what’s in your latest correspondence that’s making you so agitated,” urged Lady Quamby. “It is, after all, addressed to you.”

Rufus slit the seal and unfolded the letter.

“My, momentous news by the look on your face, Mr Patmore,” remarked Lady Fenton who was sitting opposite him.

They turned as Miss Montrose entered the room.

“What’s momentous news?” she asked, not looking at Mr Patmore, though he was staring very intently at her. With that flush in her cheeks, she looked very lovely indeed.

“I think, perhaps, this should be read in private. It concerns you, Miss Montrose.”