Callum caught her hips and made a start as if to lift her from him, but Jenny flung her arms around his neck and held tight.

"Jenny, what are ye doin'? Nay, la.s.s, we canna do this again." But there was no conviction in his words. None at all. "We dinna even know if ye're carryin' our-"

"Hush, my love," she whispered warmly against his lips, nudging his mouth open with hers.

His right hand slid from her hip around to the base of her back and pressed her toward him. Cupping her jaw with his left hand, he guided her closer, into his deepening kiss.

As his tongue mingled with hers, she found herself rocking against his hardness, making him grow and pulse beneath her.

She broke the pressure of their lips and leaned back slightly to look at him. "I want you, Callum." Her voice was low and she hardly recognized it as her own.

"But why now? Why this eve? I dinna understand." Callum's eyes searched hers for the answer, but it wasn't there. At least not in a way he could ever understand. Or that he'd want to understand.

If he knew the truth.

She did not reply. How could she?

She was saying good-bye... privately. Saying good-bye to the man who had become her world. To the man she loved with a depth she had never known was possible.

Jenny hugged him close and felt the new, strange hardness in her belly press against him... and a tear came to her eye.

She was saying good-bye to the man who had given her a gift more precious than diamonds, emeralds, or rubies-his love, and possibly, quite possibly, his babe.

But it had to be.

For a man who revered truth above all else would never understand the depth of her lies.

And so, tonight, Jenny would give him the truth-her truth. She had to make him know how very much she loved him. No matter what else happened between them, after the ball, after the newspaper tore her wide open, she needed him to believe that her love was true.

Untainted. Pure and honest.

Jenny smoothed her fingers over his beard-roughened cheeks and looked deep into his eyes. "I love you, Callum. With all my heart and all that I truly am, I love you."

He pressed his lips softly to hers, then met her gaze once more. "And I love ye, Jenny."

Hearing her name, so tenderly spoken, sent her heart pounding within her ribs. For at this moment, there was no proper lady. No servant. Just two people, whose hearts had come together to create something new and wondrous.

He loved her. Not the trappings with which she masked herself. Her. And she loved him.

Jenny leaned closer until her lips brushed his as she spoke. Her eyes felt weighted and sleepy. "I want you, Callum. I need to feel you inside of me."

This could not have been a surprise to him, but Jenny would not have known it by the expression on his face. But within the span of breath, a look of determination spread over his face. He reached around and, cupping her b.u.t.tocks, lifted her as he stood from the chair.

Jenny clung to him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, as he moved directly before the fire and laid her down before him on the soft carpet.

As she looked down, Jenny saw that her skirts were bunched around her hips. Her thighs were still spread wide, and Callum was standing high between them.

He evidently saw this too, and without allowing her to close her legs, he knelt down.

Heat surged between her thighs in antic.i.p.ation. She could feel the sweep of his kilt atop her legs, and the p.r.i.c.kle of the hairs above his knees pressed against the smooth skin of her inner thighs. It was too much, and she began to writhe.

She looked up into his eyes. They were glowing in the firelight, dark and primal. "Please, Callum. Don't make me wait."

But he didn't move. Instead he gazed appreciatively down at her. And so, she lifted her right hand from the carpet and slid it beneath his kilt and up his solid thigh. Higher and higher, until she felt him in her fingers. He wanted her too.

She heard his breath snag as she ringed her fingers around his girth and began to stroke him... just the way Annie had demonstrated that afternoon with the rolling pin.

When she looked up at his face, Callum's eyes were closed and his mouth was parted. She tightened her grip, and she saw him bite into his lower lip, then moan with pleasure.

His hands came down above each of her shoulders then, and he balanced there above her, his mouth a scant finger's width from her own. This brought him closer below as well.

She lifted her index finger and each time she moved her hand upward, she traced the ridge where his plum-shaped tip met the length of him, then slipped it higher to caress him.

He moaned her name once before he jerked in her hand. He pulled back to kneel between her thighs again.

Jenny wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Have I done something wrong?"

A deep laugh fell from Callum's lips. "Oh, no, la.s.s. Just the opposite in fact." He leaned back down to kiss her, and when he did, she felt the three b.u.t.tons between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s release, one after the other. And then he pulled the gown quickly over her head.

By the time her arms landed with a thud on either side of her head, the gown was gone, and she was lying before him in naught but her shift.

Clearly the man had done this before. And Jenny grinned inwardly, thinking of a new entry for Meredith's guide to rakes.

She had not worn a corset, and felt rather wicked about the omission, but she had known where this evening would end, and did not wish to delay the inevitability a moment longer than necessary.

With a sinful grin on his lips, Callum untied the ribbons that bound up her stockings, and slid the silk wisps down her legs. He bent and bit the tiny ribbon between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s that cinched closed her shift. Pulling it in his teeth, he finally released the tie and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s expanded the cotton, opening the garment to him. A moment later, the shift was gone and Jenny lay, arms on either side of her head, utterly naked before him.

Her breath came fast as he studied her body, as his fingers traced the tips of her nipples, then rode down the gentle slope of her belly until his hands rested between her thighs.

He pushed them wider, and suddenly she felt his hot mouth upon her most private of places, felt his tongue flicking her.

A sigh of delight fell from her mouth as her hands caught his head and pressed his harder against her. But this wasn't what she wanted.

"Please, Callum."

Callum rose up and leaned back on his heels to peel away his shirt. Jenny could not take her eyes from his supple skin, etched deeply between the curves of well-worked muscle.

He unfastened the clip of a glittering silver stag and citrine-crowned thistle kilt pin, set it aside, and began unwinding the tartan kilt from his body with unbearable slowness. When at last he dropped the tartan to the carpet, Jenny was near frantic with need.

He was so beautiful. Every bit of him seemed formed of lean muscle. Stiff and erect.

Jenny licked her lips, then eased her palms up the tops of his thighs to his waist. She pulled him down to her, and kissed him. And he her.

"No matter what happens, Callum," she whispered anxiously, "remember this moment. Remember that I love you, and always will."

"I will, Jenny, but ye speak as if our time is scarce." He kissed her again as he pressed just his tip into the moistness between her legs. "We have a lifetime ahead of us, ye and I. A lifetime."

Jenny wrapped her arms tightly around him, and lifted her hips. He thrust into her.

A lifetime, she thought sorrowfully as they made love.

If only that were true.

Chapter Sixteen.

The next morning, Jenny awoke in her own bed, still lingering in the glow of a most blissful dream. But as she glimpsed the still-damp hem of her pelisse, which she'd tossed across the chair near her bed, she smiled. It had been no dream. Her night with Callum had been very real.

In fact, it had been only two hours past that Callum had awakened his manservant and arranged for his town carriage to convey Jenny back to Number One Royal Crescent.

The brazier on the floor of the cab had been thoughtfully lit, warming the air inside enough so their breath no longer frosted the moment it left their mouths. Still, Callum had held Jenny in his arms for warmth and kissed her mouth repeatedly during their short journey through the dark streets of Bath.

Between their kisses and lovemaking that night, Jenny had told Callum again and again of her love for him. In her heart, she knew she'd achieved her objective. Callum would know, no matter what outrageous things he read about her in the Sat.u.r.day newspaper, that her love was sincere and true. That he should never doubt.

Jenny knew she should feel happy-she had done it. But as she drew back the counterpane and sat at the edge of her lumpy mattress, she sighed miserably.

For though tonight they would dance and smile and laugh, inside Jenny would be mourning the loss of the man she loved, aching at the knowledge that she would never share a night in his strong arms again.

Outside her room one of the bells rang and she heard Edgar's voice call out. "'Tis Miss Meredith."

"Yes, Mr. Edgar," Jenny called back. "Right away."

Jenny filled her basin with the contents of her ewer and splashed the astonishingly cold water on her face. She shivered as she saw to her toilet, thankful at least that the icy water would have a restorative effect on her weary mind and body. At least temporarily.

Dressing quickly, Jenny took to the stairs. It was uncharacteristically early for Meredith to ring, but she could not fault the girl for being eager to begin her morn.

"There you are, Jenny!" Meredith was beaming. "I could not rest a moment longer-for the ball is this eve! And look at this-" Meredith held up a tiny notebook with red leather carded facings. "It's for my observations-for my guidebook. Oh, you remember, don't you?"

Jenny nodded and forced a weak smile as a reply.

Meredith wrinkled her nose. "I say, Jenny, you look terrible. Did you not sleep last eve?"

"How could I sleep knowing that your birthday ball is this very eve?" Jenny pulled a pink morning frock and silk-lined corset from Meredith's wardrobe and began to dress her mistress.

"You hardly seem yourself." Meredith kept turning around to look at her, but Jenny would yank her back around by her lacing ribbon and continue fastening her corset. Then Meredith ceased her fidgeting and became very still. "You are not... with child, are you?" she asked softly.

"What a thing to ask. Do I look as though I am?" Jenny threw the frothy morning gown over Meredith's head and pulled it over her ribs. "Well?"

"Oh, Jenny, do not be angry with me for asking. 'Tis just that you do appear so dreadfully tired."

After Jenny fastened the last b.u.t.ton, she sat the young miss before the mahogany dressing table and began removing the loose braids from Meredith's curly copper hair. "Of course I am tired. There are many preparations to be made before a ball."

Meredith turned her wide blue eyes up to her. "I saw your gown. It's gorgeous! I hope you don't mind that I took a peek inside your wardrobe. I just knew you would come up with something spectacular."

Jenny stopped brushing. She had so looked forward to wearing that gown, but today she was hesitant to even look upon it.

Meredith turned back around, prompting Jenny to resume running the boar's bristle hairbrush through her heavy locks. "I didn't see a hat to match though," Meredith commented. "Nor a headdress of any sort."

A frustrated groan slipped from Jenny's mouth. "I-I have... decided to forgo a headdress. Instead I shall affix two or three brilliants to my hair. After all, the gown is so unique, I should not wish to detract from it by overaccessorizing with a... with a fussy headdress."

"Oh, I see." Meredith cast a critical eye at the ringlet of silk flowers and cording sitting atop her satinwood worktable. "Mayhap I should do the same. The vibrancy of my hair is quite enough, do you not agree?"

"Hmm?" Jenny distractedly looked at Meredith's reflection in the mirror atop the table.

"That's the end of it. It is clear you are exhausted." Meredith pushed up from the dressing table and walked past Jenny for the door. "You must get some rest before this eve. I shall inform my aunts directly."

With a halfhearted level of effort, Jenny lifted her hand to prevent Meredith from her mission, but it was too late.

Ten minutes later, Jenny found herself sitting in the drawing room facing the Featherton inquisition.

Lady Viola studied Jenny for some moments before coming upon the correct words. "Dear, a month has not quite pa.s.sed... and this is quite indelicate of me to ask... but do you believe... well, that you might carry my great-grandchild?"

Golly, that was blunt.

Jenny stared down at the nails she had chewed down to the quick over the past week. "I do not know, my lady... but I suspect I may."

Lady Let.i.tia elbowed her sister in the ribs, who yelped at the painful surprise. "Did I not tell you, Viola?"

A smile like Jenny had never seen illuminated Lady Viola's face. "And you have told him, yes?"

"No, my lady. And I shall not."

The Featherton ladies stared at each another, sputtering meaningless sounds.

"But why, dear?" Lady Viola's eyes blinked rapidly, betraying her agitation.

"Because I will not use his babe to bind him to me."

"What are you talking about, gel? He has already offered for you." Lady Let.i.tia folded her thick arms beneath her large b.r.e.a.s.t.s, unconsciously pushing them higher until they nearly reached the rolls of her double chin.

"He has offered for Lady Genevieve, not me," Jenny reminded them. "And once he knows that I have lied to him, he will not wish any sort of connection with me."

"I do think you are judging the lad unfairly," Lady Viola told her. "For he loves you, completely. In the coming weeks, you will find the right moment to tell him the truth of your position in our household. And when you do, he will not desert you simply because you are not of society. You will see."

If only she had the luxury of days and weeks to admit the truth to Callum. But she didn't. She must confess all this very eve. For by tomorrow morn-oh, perdition. She might as well tell them. After all, their names would be connected with her scandal when the newspaper column swept elevated Bath tomorrow morning.

"My ladies, I have heard that on the morrow, Sat.u.r.day, The Bath Herald will reveal everything about me. Everything." She raised her eyes to see their reaction.

They were sitting wide-eyed and motionless, mouths positively agape.

"By morn, I suspect all of elevated society will know that Lady Genevieve is but a lady's maid in your employ. And that this lady's maid, Miss Jenny Penny, has the dual distinction of being Lady Eros, maker of the popular tingle cream."