The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,61
Stop.” He touched her arm. “I want to talk to you.”
“How embarrassing for you,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone.”
She hurried as much as good breeding would allow, attaching herself to Elspeth’s in-laws. She saw James in her peripheral vision, standing in the middle of the room, staring at her, his hands in his pants pockets, looking more gorgeous and manly than any male had a right to.
She would not satisfy him by looking at him. She would not satisfy him in any way, she thought. No more stolen kisses and caresses. She was twenty-four and the only daughter of an incredibly wealthy and influential man. She was not unattractive. She knew that men liked to look at her. She’d been kissed before. Several times. But up until the first time James Thompson laid his lips on hers, she’d have said with all honesty that kisses were nothing to be excited about. Most were boring, some too forward, some too timid, some sloppy. But not so when he kissed her. Her mind ceased functioning when he kissed her. She belatedly realized that Mrs. Pendergast had asked her something, and she had no idea what.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to find my aunt.”
She and Aunt Louisa gave their thanks to Elspeth and her husband, spoke to the bride and groom for a few minutes, and walked down the street side by side, having refused several offers to see them home, although Lucinda noticed a uniformed servant trailing them.
“I was hoping to have a slice of the wedding cake,” Aunt said as they walked.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Louisa. I’m not feeling well. You should have stayed.”
Her aunt laughed. “I’m teasing you, dear. I don’t need a piece of cake. My waistline is disappearing as it is, and Renaldo will be waiting for me soon.”
“Oh.”
“What is the matter? You hurried away from Mr. Thompson, and usually you are pleased to chat with him.”
“I don’t ever want to speak to James Thompson again,” she said breathlessly. It was such a terrible thing to think, especially now, hearing herself say it aloud. She wanted to cry but would not give in until she was safely in her home in her private sitting room.
Aunt stared at her as they walked and finally began to converse on the guests at the wedding and how wonderfully romantic it had been when that little girl hugged the groom. Lucinda listened with half an ear.
Mr. Delgado’s carriage was waiting outside Lucinda’s house. He stepped out of the carriage and helped Aunt Louisa into it after speaking quietly to her and kissing her cheek.
“I would dearly love to see your new home, Miss Vermeal, if you would grant me a tour, but your aunt and I have an appointment to inspect a house that I am thinking of purchasing for my family and they have asked us to arrive earlier than our scheduled time. I was going to send a message to Louisa and see if I could convince her to leave the wedding party. But here you are!” He kissed her hand. “My Louisa was dearly hoping you’d make your home with us, but I understand you’re looking for some . . . independence. But know that you are welcome to come to us anytime, for a short stay or a long one. Your aunt is missing you desperately.”
“Thank you. And another time, Mr. Delgado, I would love to give you a tour.”
Aunt blew her a kiss through the carriage door and Renaldo walked her down the stone pathway, waiting with her until her butler, Brandleford, opened the door. Mr. Delgado bowed over her hand and bid her good day.
She climbed the staircase slowly. Giselle was waiting for her and helped her remove her dress and unpin her hair from the elaborate style she’d worn for the occasion. She let her eyes close as her maid brushed through her hair. Then she dismissed her and stretched out on the chaise in front of the tall windowed doors that led to the balcony outside her rooms. She thought about James Thompson. She could not help herself. She thought about the night of the match and the sound of a fist hitting bone and his slumped and unconscious figure on the floor of the ring. She thought about his calling for her in his incoherent ramblings and let the tears run down her cheeks. She had best harden her heart to