Page 38 of A Lady's Key to Passion

Nothing about this felt easy now.

He swore aloud. He had resolved to keep away from her, knowing that something strange was happening between them, something that he didn’t want and wasn’t prepared for. And then he had gone and kissed her. It was like he had unleashed a genie from its bottle. For if he had felt attracted to her before, it was as nothing compared to how he felt now. The sensual dream had proved it.

He wanted her badly. So badly that it was like he was possessed by some bizarre spirit.

This was getting dangerous. He knew it. Suddenly, he was consumed with the desire to leave Seaborne entirely. It wouldn’t be hard. He could tell Freddie over breakfast. His friend could either decide to stay on to continue his pursuit of Miss Matilda Grey, or he could leave with him. He could be back in Brighton before the day was over.

It would be the smartest thing to do, he thought. Jane didn’t desire marriage—she had told him repeatedly. He was wasting his time, and the more he tried to woo her and change her mind, the more perilous it was becoming for him.

The jealousy he felt towards Charles Crawford proved it. He had never felt such jealousy over a woman before, and it was alarming. The desire he felt for her, coupled with the jealousy, told him he was out of his depth and must retreat. She was never going to agree to marry him, anyway.

It was probably a good thing.

He stood up, dusting off his breeches. Finally, he felt calm. The renovations at Cliff Lodge could continue as planned without him here to oversee them if he decided to leave Seaborne.

He could still come to the house for a break from Brighton when the renovations were done. It was all achievable. Firmly, he pushed the thought of the strange dream of Jane out of his mind, once and for all. It felt good to be in control again.

***

Jane stepped out of the house, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. It was just past daybreak. She had awakened early, feeling unsettled. The whole household was still asleep, of course, so she decided to go for a quick walk. She would be back before they even realised she was gone.

She headed towards the beach, hearing the crash of the waves against the shore. There was no one around this early except the milkman clattering in his cart down the cobblestoned streets. . A dog barked in the distance. She breathed deeply. It felt good to be out of the house. The fresh sea breeze was already starting to clear her mind.

Suddenly, she stiffened. A figure was walking towards her in the distance. She frowned. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Gritting her teeth with frustration, she veered left, walking quickly across the street. If she was on the other side, she wouldn’t be forced to greet whoever it was and talk to them.

Head down, she continued briskly, determined not to look at the other person. But when she was almost past the figure, she looked over, against her better judgement. Her heart started thudding hard. It was none other than the Earl of Carlisle.

He seemed as shocked to see her as she was to see him. Their eyes locked. It felt like a magnetic cord wavering between them across the street. Desperately, she tore her gaze away, turning back to look down the empty street ahead of her. She was almost running now. Running to get away from him.

Tears in her eyes, she shook her head. Why? She didn’t want to see him at all. And of all the people who could be walking along this street at this quiet time of day, it had to be him. She was almost convinced that fate was having a great joke at her expense. Almost as if fate were throwing them together against their wills.

Chapter 22

Later that day, Jane walked briskly down the same street. She still couldn’t get the vision of the Earl out of her mind from their encounter this morning. It had shaken her so much that when she had returned home for breakfast, she hadn’t been able to speak at all to her family congregated around the table.

Marianne had gazed at her sharply but hadn’t said anything about her odd mood. Lucy, of course, had no such sensitivity. Her cousin had frowned at her irritably.

“What has gotten into you lately, Jane?” said Lucy. “You are so very moody, Cousin!”

Jane had glared at her, fighting the temptation to be just as rude back to her, telling her to mind her own business for once. But she had managed to bite her tongue, smile weakly and say that she was just tired. How relieved she would be when Lucy was gone back to her own home. Her cousin was trying her patience even more than usual.

It had been a long, trying day. And now, she was rushing to make a rendezvous with Charles, who had sent a note requesting to see her in ‘our old favourite place.’ Jane had been surprised to hear from him at all but especially asking that she meet him there.

She knew exactly the place he was referring to—the hayshed at the back of his uncle and aunt’s house, where they had often snuck away to when they had been much younger. They hadn’t met there in years, though. It seemed odd that Charles would think of it now.

She reached the outskirts of the town, heading down a lane lined with elm trees. The house was the only one at the end of the lane. Instead of heading towards it, she ducked into the field beside it, skirting the perimeter. The hayshed loomed in her vision. She could already see Charles leaning against a hay bale. He was frowning, looking like he was miles away in his mind.

Her step slowed as she gazed at him. She still wasn’t sure of the prudence of agreeing to meet him here. His note had been short and hadn’t said much. She really hoped he wasn’t going to renew his declaration of love. She had weighed up the risks but then decided that she would do it, because she hoped that perhaps they could put it behind them and be friends like they used to be. She really hated the thought of losing him.

Suddenly he spotted her. His eyes lit up. Sighing, Jane gathered her courage, walking towards him.

“What made you choose this old spot?” she asked when she was close enough to be heard. “I had almost forgotten it entirely.”

He grinned at her, looking like his old self. “Nostalgia, I guess. Do you remember when we used to escape here and play dragons?”

Jane couldn’t help smiling at the memory. One of the games they had invented when they had been young had been dubbed ‘dragons’. They would both pretend they were knights of old who were on a quest to slay multiple dragons. Charles had even fashioned swords for them out of sticks.

“How could I forget?” she said, laughing. “It was one of our favourite games.” She paused. “You look well.”

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