Every Time We Kiss

“Not because I chose to tell you,” she reminded him.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

And he shouldn’t. But she did not want him to leave her just yet. “We could drive for a short while. My mother knows where I am and if it takes a bit longer than usual she won’t worry overmuch.”

“Someone might see us.” He squeezed her hands slightly.

“True, but it is very dark.”

“The servants might gossip,” he whispered.

“Never.”

“Indeed. But why would you want to spend even a minute longer than needed in my company after what I said about you?”

Jennette bit down on her lip to keep from blurting out that she actually enjoyed his companionship. At least when he didn’t believe the worst of her. The raspy tone of his voice soothed her and made her feel secure.

The man who could ruin her and her family made her feel protected. What a ridiculous notion!

Ignoring his question, she asked, “Did you enjoy the literary salon?”

He released her hands and leaned back with a smile. “Not at all. Between Miss Whitmore’s suffocating perfume and her scandalous advances—”

“She made advances in front of everyone?”

“Very furtively. I doubt anyone would have noticed.”

“You did!” she said as outrage filled her. She should have known better than to follow through with their meeting once Sophie had confirmed Miss Whitmore’s secret.

“It was hard to miss her hand sliding up my leg.”

“She did that? Where anyone might notice?”

“Oh yes. Her skirts hid her hand’s gentle caress,” he added in a husky tone.

“And I suppose you did nothing to stop her?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“If I had, people might have noticed.”

Why did the idea of Miss Whitmore touching Matthew make her heart sink deep into her chest? She didn’t want Miss Whitmore to lay a hand on him in any manner.

“Of course,” she replied.

“Now that we know Miss Whitmore won’t suit, who is next?” he asked lightly.

Next? She hadn’t even thought of whom else she could ask. She’d pinned her hopes on Miss Sheldon and Miss Whitmore. “I will let you know soon,” she finally answered.

A soft chuckle erupted from him. “You do not have any ideas of who will be next, do you?”

“No.” She released a pent-up sigh. “I thought more women would be interested in your title than your reputation.”

“And now I believe you fully understand my predicament.”

“I always did,” she mumbled softly. There had never been one doubt about society’s reaction to John’s death. And she had been such a bloody coward to let Matthew take the responsibility.

He glanced out the window quickly. “I shall take my leave now,” he said, knocking on the carriage to gain the driver’s attention. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, he reached for the handle. “Please let me know if you have any other women for me to meet. Or the date you would like to be wed.”

Before she could sputter an answer, he jumped down and closed the door behind him. Bloody arrogant man! She would show him. She would find him the most perfect woman.