“I’d hoped for your approval. And I hope you approve of these, too.”

Drawing nearer, Lenore saw that his hand rested on a large, flattish velvet case.

“I had these made up for you,” Jason said, lifting the lid of the case. “Using some of the stones in the older pieces of the family collection. The diamonds are in the safe downstairs—I’ll show them to you later. But I thought these are probably more your style at present.”

Lenore did not answer. Eyes wide, she stared at the range of necklaces, earrings, pendants, rings and brooches revealed within the case. Winking in the last of the afternoon sunlight, emeralds and topazes, pearls and peridots glimmered and shone against the black satin lining. Slowly, Lenore sank on to the stool before the dressing-table, her fingers stealing to the jewels. Her jewels. She had never had much in the way of jewellery—her mother’s pearls had come to her, but the rest of the family collection was in keeping for Jack’s wife.

As her fingers caressed a delicate peridot and pearl necklace, she glanced up, blinking rapidly, at her husband. She wanted to thank him, but “Oh, Jason,” was all she could say, and even then her voice quavered.

Luckily, he seemed to understand, for he smiled, much more his old teasing self, and reached for the necklace.

“Here, try it on.”

He fastened the catch at the nape of her neck. Lenore stood and stepped away from the table, the better to view her reflection in the mirror above it. Jason stepped back but remained behind her, watching over her shoulder as she fingered the delicate pearl drops.

Finally, drawing in a shattered breath, Lenore smiled mistily at him in the mirror. “These are truly exquisite, my lord. I don’t know how to thank you.”

His eyes dropped to her throat, as if studying the necklace. From behind, his fingers came, first to trace the strand as it encircled her neck, then to caress her sensitive nape. “No thanks are required, my dear. You’re my wife, after all.”

His words were light; not so the expression in his eyes. As his head lowered, his object clearly to place a kiss on her throat, Lenore panicked.

Turning, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. “Regardless of that fact, my lord, these are the most wonderful gifts I’ve ever been given. I do thank you, most sincerely.”

She could not bear to look into his eyes. The silence stretched, then was broken when he said, “I’m overjoyed that they meet with your approval, my dear.”

His tone was distant again, miles away.

“I’ll leave you now. No doubt you’d like to rest.” Feeling as if someone had landed a direct hit to his stomach, Jason forced himself to stroll to the door. His hand on the knob, he paused. “My aunt Eckington is giving a ball tonight. If you’re not too tired, I suspect it wo

uld be wise for us to attend.”

“Yes, of course,” Lenore agreed, desperate to make amends for her rebuff. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly recovered by then.” Shyly, trying to read his expression across the slowly darkening room, she added, “I’ll take great delight in wearing some of your gifts tonight, Jason.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing them on you,” he replied, coldly formal. With a polite nod, he left the room.

Appalled, Lenore sank on to the stool before her dressing-table, one hand pressed to her lips. She knew perfectly well why she had shied away from that kiss—one kiss was all it would take for him to have her in his arms—and, once that happened, there would be only one end to their embrace. Not that she feared the outcome—oh, no. That, she longed for with all her being. But his leaving her at the Abbey had forced her to acknowledge the depth of her feelings, the totally consuming, all-encompassing love she felt for him.

And she was no longer sure she could keep it secret, certainly not if he surprised her as he had just then. She had no desire to forbid him her bed; she had thought he would come to her at night, when she could keep up her guard, endure her love in silence, protected from his too-perceptive gaze by the dark.

For it would never do to let him know she loved him—not as she did. It would embarrass her and probably him, too, although he would never let her see it. He would be kind and gentle and as caring as could be, but he would not love her.

That had never been one of his reasons for marriage.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LATER THAT EVENING, Jason, his emotions under the severest control, propped the wall of his aunt’s ballroom and watched as his duchess made her bow to polite society. His aunt Eckington’s ball was the perfect venue; his senior paternal aunt commanded an awesome position in the ton. With Lady Eckington and her sister’s support, Lenore’s success was assured.

Not that his wife needed any help. She looked superb, all traces of tiredness vanished, her gleaming hair coiled about her head, her ivory shoulders bare. She had worn a pearl and emerald necklace, one he had given her, with her stunning deep green gown. The matching bracelets, worn high on her forearms, caught and diffracted the light. She looked gorgeous; he could not tear his eyes from her.

At the very hub of all attention, Lenore suffered an interminable round of introductions conducted by her hostess, ably seconded by Agatha. They ensured she met all the senior hostesses—to her considerable surprise, all these august matrons seemed only too pleased to exchange words and invitations with her. Then she realised that, as the Duchess of Eversleigh, she herself was now of their group; they were only seeking to establish social connection with the latest member of the highest echelon in the ton.

The realisation gave her courage to endure the smiles and nods and arch questions. The danger in admitting to her condition was obvious. Once Jason’s aunts learned she was carrying the heir, for so they would see it, they would hem her about, fuss and fume over her—they would drive her mad. So she blithely turned aside all their delicately probing questions. Her years of experience stood her in good stead; her new awareness of her station allowed her the liberty of distance, if she chose to assume it. Two hours of intense activity saw her feet firmly on the road to social success.

“Phew!” Agatha threw her a heartening glance. “You’ve done well, my dear. I know it’s all a bit trying, especially as you don’t look to be in town much. But having the position counts, when all’s said and done. It would do you no good to ignore it.”

Lenore acknowledged her mentor’s words with a smile, inwardly wondering where Jason was. She still felt horrendously guilty over her afternoon’s gaucherie. Try as she might, she had not been able to mend her fences, for he had given her no opportunity to do so. In fact, he had been so distant, she had barely found a chance to smile at him, let alone thank him as she ought for his thoughtful gifts. And if he continued as he was, she doubted she would get a chance.

Perhaps that was as well. When he came to her tonight, she would apologise and make him laugh, then thank him as he had wished her to do this afternoon.

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Regencies Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net