Page 45 of How To Woo A Wallflower

Chapter Twenty-One

‘Ideclare the second meeting of the 1813 Wallflowers’ Club open.’ Miss Winston made the toast and they all clinked glasses, delighted for once to all be at an evening entertainment during the Season because they had each other.

Every member of their exclusive little club was at the Earl and Countess of Nethermayne’s ball except one, and Hattie hadn’t a clue if Jasper was coming. They hadn’t had time to discuss it yesterday before they returned to the infirmary, and after, because he had been too busy lecturing her on the need to take things slowly before he bade her the most distant and polite farewell of their reacquaintance.

And all because he was convinced that she was the one who needed time to consider all of her options before she gave herself to him, that her current feelings for him might wane as the initial fraught circumstances which had thrust them together calmed and that she may develop second thoughts when his scandal inevitably broke.

She wouldn’t, of course, because when something was right it was right, but he had been too busy being noble and feeling guilty for apparently taking advantage and ravishing her to hear reason. That she had heartily encouraged the ravishing was apparently by the by. But as a gentleman as well as her friend, he was duty-bound to do what was right by her, even if that meant stepping aside to allow a worthier fellow to steal her away because all he cared about was her happiness. That was all stuff and nonsense.

His raw and misplaced guilt had made him deaf to any of her counterarguments, so she had given up, reasoning that he might be more receptive after he had ceased flagellating himself. Once he realised that her feelings weren’t transient, that she had thoroughly enjoyed what they had done and could not wait to do it again, she hoped he would realise that the last thing she needed was for him to be noble about that side of their relationship. That while she admired and adored his strong morals and sensible head and always would, she wanted him to thoroughly lose his head and discard those morals whenever they were alone. That she wanted to be wanton around him.

Jasper had awakened a part of her which she had not realised existed and there wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance of putting it back to sleep now that it was up. In fact, in the two days since he had first touched her, she had had to touch herself in bed at night because her body craved his so. She supposed she should feel guilty or ashamed for that weakness, but couldn’t because it had been necessary in order get some respite and some sleep. But never enough because the release was nowhere near as satisfying, no matter how hard she tried to imagine that it had been him who had brought it about.

It hadn’t taken long for all his seemingly noble excuses to whittle away her self-esteem though either, and that had kept her awake as well. Meaning that now she harboured enough doubt about his motives for not completing their lovemaking having something to do with her dratted leg.

Thanks to her wantonness, he had seen the damn thing, albeit partially as it was still encased in a stocking, and perhaps the sight of it had dampened his ardour. For there was no doubt that one minute he couldn’t get enough of her, and the next he couldn’t get away fast enough.

Hattie hated that she thought that. Hated herself that she was so readily prepared to believe that. But there was absolutely no denying that she had offered herself to him on a platter and he had refused when, from her limited experience of the urges of men, such a thing was considered inconceivable. If Freddie’s constant warnings were any gauge, some men were supposed to be incapable of controlling their urges, and if the number of alleged notches on Jasper’s infamous bedpost was another reliable gauge, it did beg the question why she wasn’t now one of them.

He had also avoided her completely today. She had arrived at the infirmary early to sit with Jim and left so late she had barely had time to change to come here, and he hadn’t stopped by for a second when he had to have been at his club at some point during that time. The niggling voice of doubt in her head told her that that also spoke volumes.

But then again, would his desire have been quite so evident if he did not want her? Even after they had stopped and he had paced, it had still been there. Bulging in the most intriguing manner against his breeches...

‘Good evening, Lady Harriet.’

She squeaked in shock and then blushed like a beetroot. While wool-gathering over the pleasures of the flesh, when everyone else in the Wallflowers’ Club had made their way to the chairs, she had remained standing while she pondered Jasper—or more precisely a particular part of Jasper—which meant she had left herself a sitting duck for Lord Boredom to capture.

‘Would it be too forward to tell you how lovely you look this evening?’ Her only official suitor grabbed her hand and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it which made her toes curl and had her thanking her lucky stars that she was wearing gloves. ‘Ravishing in fact.’

Hattie pulled her hand away and forced a polite smile, subtly searching around her for a means of escape. Unfortunately, the rest of the 1813 Wallflowers’ Club were already engrossed, laughing at a story, so none noticed her predicament. Neither were Annie nor Kitty anywhere to be seen. Even the overbearing, interfering hawk Freddie had his back to her on the opposite side of the ballroom, so she was well and truly stuck for now.

‘Good evening, Lord Boreham.’ She bobbed a lacklustre curtsy, staggered by the irony that not all kisses were equal, and neither were heated looks. When Jasper had gazed at her in desire she melted like a puddle, yet when Dribbling Cyril did it, as he was now, she would prefer to drown herself in a puddle than witness it. ‘Thank you for the kind compliment.’ The implication of which made her want to gag. In case she did, she glanced around again unsubtly for any potential reason to escape but unfortunately, her indifferent efforts were wasted on him.

‘I am pleased to finally catch you on your own, Lady Harriet, as I have been most desirous of having a proper conversation with you for some weeks now.’ In case she was oblivious of his intentions, he leaned closer, dangerously within spitting range. ‘But I believe you have already worked that out, haven’t you, because of the many bouquets I have diligently sent to your residence.’

‘Yes...’ Hattie’s false smile was slipping. The effort of keeping it nailed in place was making her cheeks hurt. ‘I have been meaning to thank you for those, but...’ She faltered while she tried to come up with a plausible excuse for ignoring them, only to have him sidle closer and nudge her.

‘There is no need to explain your reticence, my dear Lady Harriet, for I know how this game is played. It does not do for a young lady to appear too grateful of a gentleman’s attentions in the first instance, even one of my stature.’ A spray of spittle accompanied the word ‘stature’, which landed on her cheek. It took every ounce of willpower not to claw the offending blob off with her nails. ‘As you understand, we hot-blooded males need the thrill and the challenge of the chase. And be in no doubt, for a comely prize such as yourself—’ more spittle sprayed on the pronounced elongation of the zed and the self ‘—I am fully prepared to chase and chase for as long as it takes until you have thoroughly caught me.’ He licked the superfluous drool from the corners of his mouth as he winked, and Hattie wanted to vomit into her champagne glass.

‘I can assure you that I have no desire to be caught, Lord Boreham.’ At least not by him. ‘While I should have thanked you for your bouquets from the outset, I also should have told you to desist sending them because I am afraid that I am not interested in you in that way at all and never have been.’ Because she felt that point needed emphasising, Hattie repeated it. ‘You must hunt elsewhere, Lord Boreham. Chase someone else. I am sure there must be plenty of ladies who would appreciate a man of your superior stature—but I can assure you that I am not one of them.’

‘Naughty, naughty.’ He wagged his pudgy finger in front of her face. ‘You are a tease, my lady. But I have caught your hint.’ He wiggled his eyebrows as he stared at her bosom. ‘You are going to need a few more flowers to warm you up.’ He tapped his nose then reached for her hand again to kiss, but as she attempted to wrestle it from his grip, another hand swooped in and claimed it.

‘Sorry I am late.’ Jasper said this while moving at speed, dragging her with him towards the sanctuary of the wallflower chairs. To ensure Lord Boredom knew that his services were no longer required, he smiled at the odious toad over his shoulder. ‘Thank you for keeping her entertained in my absence, Cyril. It is much appreciated.’ Then, for her ears alone, he whispered, ‘If I were you, I’d burn those gloves now that he has slobbered all over them.’

‘Something I had already decided to do at my earliest convenience, I can assure you.’ Then because she couldn’t help herself, she beamed at him as they shuffled along a row of chairs to get to the others. ‘I didn’t think I would see you tonight.’

‘Sadly, I cannot stay long because I am needed at the club but...well... I wanted to see you...to talk to you first.’

‘For another lecture warning me off?’ Hattie stripped off one of the soiled gloves and tossed it in disgust on to the chair in front, then pulled at the other.

‘No lecture.’ Behind the cover of the chairbacks in front, he caught her hand and slowly tugged off the glove, tracing his index finger down the exposed skin as he did so. ‘I merely desired the platonic public pleasure of your company this evening.’ The heat in his stormy green gaze was anything but platonic. ‘However, I give you fair warning, should an opportunity present itself and we happen to find ourselves in private for few moments, I plan to use every single second to kiss you until we are both senseless.’ And with that he turned to greet the others as if he hadn’t just undressed her with his eyes, seduced her with his words and made her hungry body yearn some more on the strength of a single, brief touch.

It was quite some time later that her brother noticed them sat together and stalked towards them.

‘Well...isn’t this a surprise?’ Freddie’s disapproval was palpable. ‘What on earth has dragged you here when I thought you were swamped with accounts at your club? Or at least that is the excuse you have been using to fob me off all week. In fact, you used it again only this afternoon when you replied to my note.’

Her brother’s eyes narrowed as they bored into Jasper’s. ‘Yet apparently it appears that you can find the time to attend another ball and chat to my sister at length even when you cannot spare one of your oldest and dearest friends half an hour for a quick game of billiards.’

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