Blade stepped out of the mayor’s town house and jogged down the steps, gulping in the humid night air. The dinner party hadn’t been as onerous as he’d anticipated. A dozen or so of Bellehaven’s esteemed residents and assorted visitors from London had enjoyed several courses of expertly prepared food and multiple bottles of perfectly aged wine.
The mood had been festive, the conversation uncomplicated. He’d endured a bit of small talk about the state of the roads to and from London, the size of the mackerel this season, and, of course, plans to attend Lady Rufflebum’s ball. Time slipped by, and long before the pineapple ice cream was served, Penelope had succeeded in charming everyone seated around the table, impressing them with her beauty and wit. Indeed, if there were such a thing as auditions for countesses, she would have been awarded the part on the spot.
He supposed it was a glimpse of what his future would be like. Elegant. Comfortable. Blissfully boring.
Life with Hazel would have been exactly the opposite. So why did he still long for it—and her? Saying goodbye to her had felt like extracting his heart from his chest and leaving it beating in her hands.
Maybe it was the after-dinner brandy that made him think about going to her, promises be damned. But he’d seen the torment in her eyes that afternoon. Known he was responsible for it. And he didn’t want to hurt her more than he already had.
So he strolled down the quiet lane, forcing his feet to move in the direction of the Bluffs’ Brew Inn. It was only a few blocks away, and, if he was lucky, the walk would clear his thoughts, which were currently muddled by haunting brown eyes, delectable lips, and a single rebellious curl.
He muttered a curse to himself, and, behind him, a shrub rustled, causing the skin on the back of his neck to prickle. He paused in front of a dark garden. Glanced up and down the deserted road.
Bellehaven wasn’t exactly known for having pickpockets or hoodlums roaming its streets, but Blade’s instincts told him he wasn’t alone. Maybe Dunmire was looking to pick a fight after the regatta.
“Stop skulking behind the bushes and show yourself,” Blade challenged.
There was a bit more rustling from the garden—then a figure, clad entirely in charcoal gray, stepped out from behind the hedge and slowly pushed back the hood of a cloak. “It’s me.”
“Hazel?” His entire body thrummed.
She raised a finger to her lips and quickly surveyed their surroundings. “We shouldn’t be seen together out here. It would be difficult to explain.”
“Agreed,” he said, lowering his voice. “And yet, here we are. It can’t be coincidence that you were hiding in a garden near the mayor’s house.”
“No. I needed to speak with you.” There was an urgency, an edge to her voice that made his spine tingle.
“Are you all right? Has something happened?”
She would not meet his gaze. “Let’s move away from the street before someone walks by.”
“I didn’t bring my coach,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
“Follow me.” She slipped on her hood, walked a bit farther down the lane, then led him onto a deserted footpath in the direction of the beach.
The moonlight illuminated the path, which twisted through chest-high grass. “Be careful you don’t trip over a piece of driftwood.”
“You needn’t worry,” she assured him. “We’re almost to the beach.”
As they walked, the rumble of the waves grew louder, the breeze off the ocean blew stronger, and Blade’s sense of unease increased. Hazel wouldn’t have risked meeting him like this unless she was in some sort of trouble—and that knowledge awoke an odd, fiercely protective streak inside him.
“Here we are,” she said. They left the dunes and stepped onto a wide stretch of sand where it seemed as though they were the last two souls on earth. She faced him, shrugged off her hood, and swallowed. “Forgive me for sneaking up on you earlier. I didn’t know how else to reach you.”
“I’m glad you found me,” he assured her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everything.” Several strands of hair flew free from their pins and whipped at her cheeks. “But I might know a way to fix it.”
He pointed at a pair of large boulders several yards away. “Let’s sit over there, where you’ll be sheltered from the wind—and we can talk properly.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, guided her to the far side of the rocks, and smoothed a spot of sand for her to sit.
She shot him a grateful smile. “This is better.”
He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Resisted the urge to haul her against him and kiss her senseless. “I’m listening.”
She heaved a long sigh. “I require a favor. I hate to even ask you, but I am at loose ends.”
He placed his palms on either side of her face and looked deep into her eyes. “Whatever is troubling you, we will face it together. Tell me what I can do.”
“I appreciate your willingness to help. But this involves Lady Penelope, too.”
Bloody hell. “How so?”
“I was hoping she could speak to Mrs. Covington. She withdrew Prue from Bellehaven Academy this afternoon.”
“Why the devil would she do that? Prue seems perfectly happy. Kitty claims she’s the cleverest girl of the bunch.”
“Mrs. Covington fears that friendships with my girls will hamper Prue’s chances of reaching the upper echelons of society—and though I hate to admit it, she may have a point.”
Blade scoffed. “She threatened to pull Prudence out once before and changed her mind. Perhaps she will again.”
“No,” Hazel said, firm. “She was adamant that Prue have nothing more to do with Bellehaven Academy or any of my students.”
“That seems cruel.” He scratched the stubble on his jaw. “I assume Mrs. Covington didn’t approve of Kitty’s participation in the regatta today.”
“She did not,” Hazel confirmed. “And she thinks that flouting expectations about what it means to be a gently bred young lady reflects poorly on my school.”
“Then she is even more of a closed-minded twit than I suspected,” Blade said. “She will rue the day she walked away from Bellehaven Academy.”
“I don’t think you understand. It would take but a few disparaging remarks from Mrs. Covington to completely undermine my school’s reputation. Once other prominent families learn of her dissatisfaction, they will want nothing to do with Bellehaven Academy—or me. It is only a matter of time before Beatrice’s and Winnie’s families pull them from my classroom as well.”
“How does Penelope figure into all of this?” he asked warily.
“She is everything that Mrs. Covington wishes Prue to be. If Lady Penelope vouched for my school and perhaps offered to introduce Prue into polite society—I feel certain Mrs. Covington would reverse course.”
He mumbled a curse. Involving Penelope was a bad idea for at least two reasons. First, she viewed Hazel as a threat. Second, she would expect something in return. “I could speak to some acquaintances in London. Encourage them to enroll their younger sisters and daughters.”
Hazel shook her head. “It’s too close to the end of the summer. Families don’t move to Bellehaven at this time of year, and by springtime it will be too late. I doubt my school will survive the winter months.”
“I could invest in Bellehaven Academy,” he offered. “And be a partner of sorts.”
“That’s incredibly kind of you,” Hazel said. “But I don’t want to be financially dependent on anyone.”
Her refusal was a subtle stab in his heart. “I’m not anyone. I’m your friend.”
Hazel gazed at him, her expression apologetic. “Our past would make any partnership between us terribly complicated. I am trying to move forward. You intend to marry Lady Penelope.”
Her words hung in the air, and though he longed to swat them away, he couldn’t—at least not in good conscience.
So for several heartbeats they sat in silence. Pale moonlight illuminated her beautiful face, and he tried to etch the image in his head, even as he knew his memory could never do it justice.
“There is another solution,” he said soberly. “I could take Kitty back to London with me. If she were gone, maybe you could convince Mrs. Covington to re-enroll Prue.”
“Absolutely not,” Hazel said, adamant. “This is Kitty’s home. She needs Bellehaven Academy, and honestly, we need her. I refuse to sacrifice one student for the sake of the whole. Families don’t work that way. Besides, even if I succeeded in saving my business, I’d be losing the heart of what makes it special.”
“I know what your school means to you, and I know you’re not fond of compromising. But there’s more than your future at stake. You have Clara and Lucy to consider as well.”
“Yes, I—” She blinked. “You know their names?”
“How could I not?” Blade shrugged. “Kitty’s constantly talking about them. She wants Clara to design a ball gown for her and swears Lucy could scale any cliff in Bellehaven using only her hands and feet.”
“I do hope she’s not planning to try,” Hazel mumbled to herself before shaking her head. “I shall find a way to take care of her and Clara, no matter what happens,” she vowed.
“I know you will.” He dragged a hand through his hair and blew out a long breath. “If you are certain you want me to ask for Penelope’s assistance, I’ll speak to her before I return to London in the morning.”
“I honestly believe Penelope is my only chance.”
“A rather sobering thought.”
“Do you think you can persuade her to agree?”
“I’ll find a way,” he assured her. In return, Penelope might demand that he procure a special license or whisk her away to Gretna Green. But Hazel’s school meant everything to her. Oddly enough, that made it of the utmost importance to him—and he wouldn’t fail her.
“Thank you.” Hazel felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted off her chest. “I truly believe that once I make it past this little bump in the road, Bellehaven Academy will be a roaring success.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
His faith in her made her happy and sad at the same time. It was odd—tragic, really—that he could believe in her so completely and still not believe in them.
“Thank you for understanding and interceding on my behalf.” She shot him a half smile. “I promise you needn’t worry about me popping out of every shrub you pass on the street.”
Blade said nothing but stared at her with such a hot, raw intensity that her belly flipped and her knees went weak.
“You, Hazel Lively, are welcome to sneak up on me anytime you wish.”
Oh God. A telltale pulsing started between her legs, and she was suddenly unbearably hot. She tugged the drawstring of her cloak free and shrugged it off.
He frowned and placed a large hand at her nape, sending delicious tingles through her limbs. “Are you feeling well?”
“Yes,” she said, fully aware that her chest was heaving like she’d swum from one side of the bay to the other. “The problem is … that when you look at me in that particular hungry sort of way…”
His eyelids lowered and his nostrils flared. “You feel … aroused.”
She pressed her knees together in a futile attempt to stop the pulsing. “Yes.”
Somehow, his gaze grew even hotter. “There’s a way to ease the ache, you know.”
“I do know. I’m afraid I recall it all too well.” Indeed, every time she closed her eyes, her head filled with visions of Blade hauling his shirt over his head, covering her body with his, and moving inside her till she shattered from the pure pleasure of it all. “But I, er, we, should not—cannot—do it again.”
“While I would very much like to make love to you,” he said gruffly, “I’m not talking about that.” His hand drifted down her back, and his wicked fingers rubbed a small circle at the base of her spine.
“What, then?” She nibbled her lip, perplexed. “Kissing?”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “No, although I’m inordinately fond of that, too.”
“I don’t understand.” All she knew was that she wanted to straddle him—and that she shouldn’t.
He leaned closer and brushed his lips across her cheek. “You can give yourself pleasure.”
Oh.
“Would you like to try?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I believe I would.”