In the Prince’s Bed by Sabrina Jeffries (3)

Chapter Ten

Sydney glanced at the clock in the back room where all the poets were gathered. He’d seen Katherine leave Iversley and head into the hall. So where was she? Hadn’t she been coming to offer him her congratulations?

She hadn’t been waiting when Sydney entered, and the thinning crowd had revealed no sign of Iversley inside the assembly room, either. Sydney scowled. That dashed scoundrel had probably talked her out of coming back here, the way he had tried to keep her from attending the reading.

Unsuccessfully, of course. Satisfaction spread through Sydney as he remembered Katherine’s smiles. Take that, Iversley. She came anyway, didn’t she? Came to see me. And perhaps she was waiting for him even now in the hall…

He headed for the door, but Julian stepped into his path, blocking his exit. “For God’s sake, don’t make a fool of yourself over some silly chit.”

“Stay out of it, Napier. This does not concern you.”

Jules flushed. “So it’s ‘Napier’ now? What happened to ‘my dearest Jules’?”

“Shut up!” Sydney hissed. “We’re not alone.”

“I know that.” Glancing around the room to make sure no one noticed, Jules stepped closer and lowered his voice. “The same way you know, even if you won’t admit it, that anything concerning you concerns me.”

A delicious shiver swept Sydney. Jules’s hints about the nature of their friendship became bolder by the day, and—what was worse—more accurate.

No, what was he thinking? He didn’t feel like that about Jules. It was unspeakable, intolerable. Sydney loved Kit. He always had and always would. Jules—Napier—didn’t understand the pure and holy love that could exist between a woman and a man, purer than the…the wicked sort of friendship Jules wanted.

“Leave me be.” Sydney pushed past his longtime friend. “You’re wrong about me and Kit. Utterly wrong.”

Pain slashed over Jules’s face. “You only wish I were, because that would mean that you are not a—”

“Don’t you even say it!” Sydney snapped. “I’ve told you time and again—all I want is to marry Kit and have a family. But you won’t listen.”

“Because that’s not what you want. That’s what you’ve been told to want. But I know better.”

Sydney swallowed. He should never have responded to Jules’s surprising kiss a few weeks ago. Though they hadn’t spoken of it since, it had changed everything between them. Worse yet, it had crystallized all that had been wrong his entire life, and made him want—

No, he didn’t want that. He couldn’t. But Jules refused to see their one kiss for the mistake it had been.

“I can’t be what you want, Jules,” Sydney whispered. “Can’t you see that?”

“No, I can’t.” Jealousy turned Jules’s tone bitter. “I care more about you than she ever could. For God’s sake, man, she came here with Iversley!”

When Sydney glared at him, Jules added cruelly, “Or is that the real reason you’re trying to keep her? Because you can’t bear to lose even her to him. And all because of some silly schoolboy rivalry—”

“Don’t be absurd.” But Julian’s words rang in his ears as he headed out the door into the hall. It was true—until Iversley had started sniffing around Kit, Sydney had actually toyed with the idea of not marrying her.

But the earl was infuriating, with his title and easy manner and reckless disregard for rules. Sydney always followed the rules, was terrified not to.

Except when it came to Jules.

Heat flooded his face so powerfully that he scanned the hall to see if anybody had noticed. But it was empty. No remaining audience members and no Iversley and Kit.

Dash it all if he didn’t feel relieved. Relieved, of all things! What kind of man was he?

He sagged onto a bench that sat against one wall and buried his face in his hands. When had everything become so muddled? Kit was pressing him for marriage, Mother was against it, and Jules—

He sucked in a breath. Jules wanted him to really break the rules, to leave England and go to Greece with him on an extended trip. Sydney laughed madly. Mother was actually enthusiastic about that idea. She thought it would separate him from Kit so he could find some “better” woman.

If Mother only knew what Jules intended for them…

A thrill shot through him that he squelched ruthlessly. He mustn’t think of Jules like that. He mustn’t. It was wrong. The man’s plans were simply impossible. A life outside of England engaged in—No, he couldn’t.

Besides, how would Mother manage all alone? And there was Kit to consider, too—Sydney could never leave her to Iversley. That scoundrel would ruin Kit’s life. He could never make her happy.

Yes, but can you?

He wanted to. He really did. It was just that Kit had grown into such a…a woman. Suddenly, the amiable playmate who’d joined him in all manner of innocent boyish activities—boating and fishing and climbing trees—had become this creature of blatant femininity who scared the devil out of him. He still enjoyed their talks and admired her clever mind. But the thought of sharing a bed with Kit—Katherine—made him break out in a sweat.

It’s only because you’ve never been with a woman. Jules confused you, that’s all. Just kiss her as she asked, and that will break the ice and then everything will be fine.

But what if it wasn’t? What if, God forbid, he hated it?

No, Jules was wrong about him. Sydney stood up and strode down the hall. He’d prove it, too. He’d find Kit, and he’d demand that she stop spending time with Iversley. Then he’d take her in his arms and—

A muffled noise from one of the nearby rooms broke into his thoughts. Curious, he approached the door—the only closed one in the hall—and peered through the little window to the inside.

His heart stopped. Iversley was kissing Kit. Anger surged through Sydney. How dared that blackguard touch his Kit?

Sydney opened the door. He would put a stop to the man’s insolent attentions.

Then he caught sight of Kit’s arms, looped about Iversley’s shoulders, clinging to his neck. She was kissing the man back. And when Iversley moved to kiss her neck and her ear, her face showed pure rapture—her eyes were closed and her lips were parted and she looked as if she’d finally found heaven.

And Sydney felt…nothing. No surge of jealousy, no outrage…nothing.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The sight of such passionate fervor made him wish he were the object of it. He was envious.

And to his horror, it wasn’t Iversley he envied.

*   *   *

“Unhand the lady, you blackguard!”

As the words penetrated the sensual spell Alec wove around her, Katherine shoved him away. Dreading what she would see, she turned her gaze slowly to the door.

Lord preserve her, it was Sydney! How much had he witnessed? Had he been here when Alec removed his hand from her bodice a few moments ago? Judging from his furious expression, he might have been.

Except that his fury seemed directed more at Alec than at her.

Alec turned, too, his expression carefully controlled. “Good afternoon, Lovelace.” Not “This isn’t what you think,” or “Sorry, Lovelace, didn’t mean to steal your woman.” Then again, Alec was always honest about his desires.

What was she going to do? Sydney would never forgive her for this, never.

Like an avenging angel, her friend stalked up to them. “Dash it all, Iversley, you have no right to kiss her!”

Relief coursed through Katherine. Sydney had only seen their kiss, thank goodness.

“I’ve as much right as you, old chum,” Alec shot back. “As long as the lady doesn’t protest my kisses, our activities don’t concern you.”

“Kisses?” Sydney’s gaze shot to her. “You let this scoundrel kiss you more than once?”

This was her chance to proclaim Alec a liar, to say she had been forced.

But she couldn’t. Even though Alec’s grim expression showed he half expected her to, she couldn’t speak such a lie. It might save her pride, but it would compel Sydney to defend her honor, which was unthinkable. Men of action like Alec were inevitably good shots.

“Lord Iversley,” she whispered, “would you give me a moment alone with Sir Sydney?”

Alec searched her face, surprise flickering in his eyes. Then he nodded grimly. “I’ll go see to the horses.” He strode out past Sydney, who glared at him every step of the way.

As Alec’s footsteps receded down the hall, Sydney approached her. “Dash it all, have you lost your mind? What are you thinking, to let that man kiss you?”

An odd speech for a man who should be jealous. He sounded more like an overprotective brother than a lover.

“I wasn’t thinking at all, Sydney. It…it just happened.” She wasn’t about to tell him of her bargain with Alec—Sydney would certainly find that appalling.

“The only man you should kiss is me,” Sydney said with uncommon fierceness.

She gaped at him. So Alec’s scheme was working? “You’re absolutely right,” she said stoutly. “And I would much prefer that you be the one to kiss me.”

Liar, her conscience whispered.

Be quiet, she told it. She meant it—she only wanted Sydney. Really, she did. Even if she had just been behaving like a shameless wanton with Alec.

She blushed. “My kissing Al—Lord Iversley was a mistake. I promise it will never happen again.” Or at least she fervently prayed it wouldn’t.

A flush spread over Sydney’s cheeks. “Glad to hear it.” He stepped toward her with clear intent.

“If you can forgive me—”

“I can forgive you. I do forgive you.” Sydney stared at her uncertainly, then reached up to caress her cheek. “As long as you can forgive me for neglecting you these past few weeks.”

Months, more like, but she wasn’t about to point that out now. She’d been waiting half her life for this moment. “It’s already forgiven.”

He set his jaw, as if preparing for a hard task, then bent his head to press his lips to hers. His kiss was careful, respectful…and totally lacking in passion.

But shouldn’t she expect that of a considerate gentleman like him? His kisses would never be indecently thorough like Alec’s, and he would certainly never touch her so scandalously. That must be why her pulse wasn’t quickening and her heart flipping over in her chest.

So why did she wish they were? When Sydney drew back, she frowned at him. This was Sydney’s idea of a kiss? Couldn’t he even take her in his arms or hold her close?

Apparently not. He was already backing away, as if relieved it was over. Oh no, he would not get away with this.

Grabbing his hands, she pulled him back and placed his arms about her waist. Then she twined her own arms about his neck. “Let’s try that again, Sydney,” she whispered to his shocked face.

And before he could even react, she kissed him. Hard. Thoroughly. She parted her lips against his and mimicked the motions Alec had taught her. But when she tentatively touched her tongue to his mouth, Sydney recoiled, thrusting her away as if she’d bitten him.

Flushing from his cravat to his forelock, he whispered, “That…sort of thing should wait until we’re married, my dear.”

It was her turn to blush. Served her right for taking kissing lessons from a proclaimed scoundrel. She’d blundered again, making Sydney think she was fast and coarse. “I’m sorry, Sydney—”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said quickly. “You were fine. It was me. I don’t…that is…” He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly discomposed. “I-I think I’m not very good at…these sorts of things.”

That was certainly true.

No, she wouldn’t think that—it was too disloyal. Though she could use a bit more enthusiasm from him. “We only need practice, that’s all,” she said gamely.

“I suppose.” The flush deepened in his cheeks. “The thing is, I’m not sure we should rush into…That is—”

“What my surprisingly inarticulate friend is trying to tell you,” said a voice from the doorway, “is that he and I are planning a trip to Greece this summer. And a wedding doesn’t exactly fit into those plans.”

The change that came over Sydney’s face was frightening. Anger mingled with mortification as he whirled toward the door. “Dash it all, Napier, go away!”

But Katherine was still trying to absorb Lord Napier’s claims. Surely Sydney wouldn’t—He didn’t mean to—“Is that true, Sydney?”

His alarmed gaze shot back to her. “No!”

“Don’t lie to her, for God’s sake,” Napier snapped.

Sydney looked positively frantic. “All right, perhaps Napier and I did talk about it, but nothing has been decided—”

“If you even talked about it,” she said, feeling as if the floor fell from beneath her very feet, “clearly you weren’t considering marriage anytime soon.”

“It’s just that…until the other night, I didn’t realize your mother was pressing you so.” Sydney tugged nervously at his cravat. “If I’d known you were in such haste to marry—”

“You would have informed your mother you were marrying me no matter what, right?” She snorted. “You didn’t even do that after I told you. And your friend there clearly thinks your trip to Greece is still taking place.”

“Ignore Napier. He just—”

“Hates me? Like your mother hates me?” She choked down the tears swelling in her throat. “You know what, Sydney? I’m tired of fighting to prove myself to your friend and your mother and…and even to you. It’s your turn to prove yourself to me. If you want to marry me, you’ll have to make an offer. Until you do, I’m assuming there is nothing between us, do you understand? Nothing.”

“You don’t mean that,” Sydney said hoarsely.

“Oh yes, I do.” She simply couldn’t take this torture anymore. Tears flooded her eyes, but she refused to let him see them. “Good afternoon, Sydney.” She hurried toward the door.

“Wait, Kit—” Sydney called out behind her.

“Let her go,” Napier put in irritably. “You can’t give her what she wants.”

He could, if the rest of you would let him, she thought bitterly as she approached the room’s exit.

Was she always to have witnesses to her humiliation? First Alec, then Sydney’s horrible friend? She hurried past Napier, praying she could at least keep from crying in front of him.

“You’re better off without him, you know, Miss Merivale,” Lord Napier said in a low voice.

She stopped, then turned, determined to face down his gloating. “Don’t you mean he’s better off without me, Lord Napier?”

But he wasn’t gloating. He looked oddly sympathetic. “No. You and I might both be better off without Sydney. But you have another choice. I have none.”

That statement was so peculiar, she couldn’t even begin to respond. Gathering the remnants of her dignity, she turned and stalked off down the hall.

What a preposterous man. Of course he had other choices for friends. And whom did he consider her other choice to be?

Alec, of course. But Napier was mad if he thought Alec was any choice. Sydney might not be right for her, but neither was Alec. Unless she wanted to end up ruined and alone. He might sit a horse like a conqueror and make her laugh, but that was no reason to run into his arms. Papa had cut just such a dashing figure in his day—and look what that had done to Mama.

Besides, Alec’s interest in her wasn’t the sort to lead to marriage anyway. He wanted to “chase” her, remember?

A hollow pain settled in the pit of her stomach. Alec wanted to chase her, and Sydney wanted to run from her. Neither was seriously interested in marrying her, no matter what nonsense Alec blathered about courting her.

A pox on them both. She paused inside the entrance door to brush the tears from her eyes and straighten her bonnet. Bad enough that Sydney had apparently planned to put off marrying her indefinitely—she wasn’t about to let Alec know he was right about that. She still had some pride, thank goodness.

She marched outside to where Alec stood holding the horses. He looked irritable. Fine. She felt irritable. They’d make a wonderful pair on the ride home.

“You were in there a long time,” he snapped as he helped her mount. “That must have been some discussion.”

“It was.” If he thought she’d talk about any of this with him, he was in for a surprise.

He scowled up at her. “So what did your precious Sydney do? Chastise you for your immoral character? Regale you with more tales of my wild and reckless school days?”

Her temper flared. “If you really must know, he kissed me.” When Alec’s eyes darkened, she added, “Apparently your little plan worked brilliantly. Thank you, my lord. I’m most indebted to you.”