Free A Breath of Scandal: The Reckless Brides by Elizabeth Essex Page B

arm, looking at him the way he was looking at her now—with warmth and intimacy—and new rumors would start up. She did not even have to walk out of the room. Better yet was if she simply unlocked the door, and resumed their lovely chat, and let someone come upon them, and relate the cozy, intimate setting, and her association with Lord Aldridge would be at an end.
    But then they would be right back where they had started, in their cold house, without any money, and without any prospects for the future. Cassie would suffer. And it would be wicked to use such a lovely young man as Jellicoe. It would be wrong. She should be apologizing for even thinking of dragging him into her sorry spectacle. “I’m sorry you had to hide. I’m sorry I asked you to. It’s hardly dignified for a man of your stature.”
    “I’m a naval officer, Preston. I have a very different notion of dignity than most of society. And you didn’t make me do anything I wasn’t willing to do. I’ve no greater desire to be caught out drinking with a young lady than I reckon you have of being caught out with an unemployed, younger son.”
    “Yes,” she answered though he could have no idea of what she desired. She hardly knew herself, her thoughts were such a contradictory jumble.
    “I suppose I’d best go. Before someone else—your mother? Or that dreadful battering ram, Lady Barrington?—comes back and I’m forced into a display of defenestration. ” He said the word as if it were as tasty as a piece of cake.
    “Out the window? It’s too far up.”
    He gave her a dazzling, roguish smile. “Not for me.”
    “You must be joking, Jellicoe. Listen to me, I’ve gone out plenty of windows—I’ve got an ancient yew tree outside my chamber—but it’s pouring rain, and very slippery on that stonework. You could break your neck. Or your leg at the very least.”
    “I will not break my leg, or my neck, Preston, because I’m going through the door, as behooves my dignified, elevated stature. But even if I did go out the window into the pouring rain, I’d be perfectly all right, I assure you. One of the advantages of having been in the navy is that I’ve long gotten over any fear of heights. Or rain. And besides, once I dangle all six feet four inches of me from my fingertips, it couldn’t be more than a few feet to the ground.”
    “Truly?” She hadn’t thought of the maths. If her father were still alive, he would be laughing at her, and making her write out the equation as a proof.
    He held his hands up high over his head—a lovely, big puppet of a man—for her amusement. “You see. It’s easy.”
    Oh, yes. When he said it like that, it did sound easy. If only every escape were that clean and simple. If only jumping out a window would solve all her problems. If only. “Yes. Just so.”
    They stood there together for a long moment, just a foot or so apart, smiling at each other, until he put out his hand for her to shake. “It was a very great pleasure to meet you this evening, Preston.”
    “It was a very great pleasure to meet you as well, Jellicoe.” She felt his long fingers close around hers gently. He didn’t grab or paw like Mr. Stubbs-Haye. He just touched. And his touch felt nothing like the papery softness of Lord Aldridge. Jellicoe’s large hand felt warm and strong and immensely capable. And safe.
    She trusted him.
    How strange. He was so overwhelmingly near—nearer really than Lord Aldridge had ever been to her. So close she could smell the heady aroma of cognac and starch, and hear the creaking of his high leather top boots. How pleasant and how strange. How strange she should trust him, how strange that the touch of his hand made her feel unaccountably safe. It was completely nonsensical that she should feel safer with this handsome stranger than she did with a man chosen by her own family. Yet she did.
    “Well, good night.” Antigone hated to see him go, but knew he must. “And thank you. For a lovely