by Jina Bacarr
Ava could feel his eyes on her as she glided down the winding staircase with her etiquette book on her head, hand extended, his lordship telling her to keep her shoulders straight, when Niles the butler asked him if he wished to take a telephone call from a lady.
A very insistent lady.
Buck nodded, then told Ava to continue practicing her walk before leaving to take the call. But not before she caught a devilish look in his eye. As if he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her.
Defiant, Ava dropped the book on the staircase. To say she was peeved put it mildly. She couldn’t imagine a more annoying intrusion. She had no assurance he would have kissed her.
She just knew.
Now she understood why Mrs Benn-Brady hated telephones.
Mercy, has Lady Pennington arrived in New York already?
Knitting her brows, Ava sat down on the staircase, tucking her silken skirts under her, and flipped through the etiquette book. She needed help. There had to be a chapter on seduction. Could she find it before he came back?
Oh, the angels must be on her side, she thought giggling. She found exactly what she was looking for and read every word.
When his lordship returned, the loud rumble of a late day thunderstorm made its appearance on cue, throwing the large drawing room into a gray twilight with velvet blue undertones.
Perfect. Ava had one more trick up her sleeve. Literally.
The seductive art of unveiling by taking off her thirty-two button chamois gloves with the finesse of a lady and the speed of a caterpillar.
A teasing slowness that Lady Brightmore insisted would stir a husband’s desire.
Oh, really? Ava wanted to find out.
She surprised his lordship with a supple, undulating walk down the staircase, then brushed past him without even a nod. She began unbuttoning her glove, one pearl bob at a time, and slid it down her arm. Slowly, very slowly.
It gave her goose bumps, but what about him?
Behind her she could hear his lordship let out a low moan. The sensual sound made her dig her nails into the silk sliding over her hips as she moved out of his reach. She shimmied with purpose as she glided over the marble floor, daring him to follow her.
And not take his eyes off her. Would he kiss her? Finally?
No. It didn’t work. Buck remained a gentleman and gave her no more than a passing glance.
In the name of the Holy Ghost, the man was driving her crazy. Sure, she’d made him swear not to touch her. Sure, she knew He was waiting for her to slip up. But just once, before she covered her face with a white veil and kissed the white rosary with a prayer on her lips, did she want to see his lordship’s eyes glimmer with desire for her and not this Lady Pennington.
Then she’d never ask for another thing. Never.
Are you sure, girl? It’s a dangerous thing you’re about, but I’ll not stop you. You haven’t learned jealousy is a heady perfume that dulls the mind and overwhelms the senses.
God help you. You’ll have to find out for yourself.
‘Your scheme won’t work, Ava.’
‘Why not?’ she teased. She felt as nervous as if she were again that naïve girl on the ship.
‘I have more important things to occupy my mind,’ she heard him say, ‘besides your schoolgirl tricks.’
Sweet Jesus, what was he about? And her with her knickers all tied up in a knot.
Rain stormed outside on the luxurious avenue, making the tall windows rattle like angry demons who wanted to get inside.
Ava dropped her glove on the thick Persian carpet, and then ran her hands down the silken smoothness covering her hips. Warmth surged between her legs. Her cheeks colored as deep as the pink roses sitting in a vase on the table.
She turned and risked a glance at him and her pulse raced. His right hand covered his face, but she could see him peeking through his fingers. A slow smile widened his lips. He was watching her, damn him.
A giggle rose in her throat.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, your lordship,’ she answered in a flawless accent.
‘Don’t try to fool me, Ava,’ he said with a terseness that pinged her ego. ‘You want to know if I still find you as desirable as I did that first day on the Titanic.’ He looked down at the scribbled note he was reading and without raising his head he said, ‘The answer is no.’
She stood tall, muscles tensed, ready to strike back at him with all the words she’d tried so hard to forget these past two weeks.
‘And why not?’ she demanded. His lordship advanced toward her, his brows rising. She held her ground.
‘Because you are my best friend’s fiancée. Now continue walking as I showed you and no more tricks.’
His coy remarks set her to wondering what he did feel about her.
‘Buck, I—’
He was past humoring her.
‘If you’re through tempting me, Ava, something has come up I must attend to right away.’
And with that, he left.
Pouting, Ava yanked off her other glove. By the impassioned look on his face, she had the idea that ‘something’ wore silk stockings and had a beauty mole where no lady would profess to having one.
36
‘Ava is in danger,’ Buck said, leaving his brandy untouched. Irritated, he shoved the glass across the oak table. ‘It’s all my fault for talking her into this mad charade.’
‘What are you talking about, old man?’ Trey asked, then signaled the waiter for another drink. The two men sat in comfortable red leather armchairs in the Waldorf café.
‘That female reporter from the New York Herald rang me up about a rumor she heard regarding the Countess of Marbury,’ Buck said, tapping his fingers on the table. ‘I knew the woman was trouble when she raised her skirt to entice me to give her an interview.’
‘Did it?’
‘No. I gave her the exclusive rights to my Titanic story to keep her away from Ava. Now this.’
‘It can’t be that bad, Buck.’ Trey leaned closer. ‘Is it?’
Buck smirked. ‘She doesn’t believe Ava is a real countess, but an actress I hired in London to play the part.’
Trey turned white. ‘Good God, if such an idea wasn’t so awful, it might prove amusing.’
‘We can’t let her hurt Ava.’
‘Agreed, Buck. There’ll be hell to pay if my mother hears about this,’ Trey said with an odd note in his voice, as if he’d been down this path before. ‘She wants to control everything, including me.’
Which was why Buck had found him at the Waldorf instead of the ‘stuffy old Union’ as Trey called it. The high-ceilinged café paneled in a rich, dark oak provided its all-male clientele with a four-sided bar and a free buffet.
‘She can’t control the press, Trey,’ Buck said.
‘You don’t know my mother. She invited a select group to her charity dinner but everyone who didn’t get an invitation has their noses bent out of shape,’ he said, laughing. ‘All the newspapers are clamoring to cover the event.’
‘We never counted on the press disputing Ava’s title.’
‘Where did this reporter come up with such an insane idea?’ Trey wanted to know.
‘She interviewed that woman who complained about losing her jewels when the Titanic went down,’ Buck explained. ‘She swore Ava acted strange on the Carpathia, as if she were hiding something.’
‘Your reputation with women didn’t help, Buck,’ Trey said. Was that envy Buck heard in his voice? ‘Ava never left your side on the rescue ship while you were unconscious.’
Buck couldn’t deny once he’d found Ava again, he hadn’t given a thought to what happened afterward. All he could think about was her. She was wearing the countess’s black coat and when she gave him her sexy smile, he thought of nothing else but her.
She could do that to him, keep him off balance. What surprised him was her performance earlier when she swayed her hips and removed her glove with such sensuality he thought he’d been s
educed by a sophisticated demimondaine.
Christ, what had he created?
The idea both worried and excited him, but he had no choice but to keep his hands off her. Still, he felt like a heel when all Ava wanted was for him to hold her in his arms and kiss her.
‘The reporter smells a story,’ Buck said. ‘Whether or not it’s true won’t matter if it hits the newspapers.’
‘Not to mention Mother would disinherit me.’ Trey sucked in his breath.
‘What about Ava?’ Buck shot back, raising his voice. ‘Or don’t you care if they send her back to Ireland?’
‘Pipe down, old man. Of course she matters to me, but I also care about my inheritance.’ He finished his drink, then continued. ‘I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this, Buck. I’m not ready to settle down.’
Buck tried to control his temper. He stared at his old friend and saw a man haunted by the allure of money. It was the promise of a fortune that led him to follow a pointless life. That didn’t excuse his behavior toward Ava.
‘Explain yourself, Trey, and it better be good.’
‘Fiona wouldn’t complain if a man found the company of a pretty chorus girl desirable every now and then.’ Trey sat back in the comfortable armchair. ‘Ava’s different. She doesn’t understand a gentleman’s indiscretions.’
Buck narrowed his eyes. ‘You said you loved her.’
‘I do… as much as I can love any woman.’
‘I should knock your teeth down your throat.’ Buck jumped up, ready to throw a punch at him until a waiter behind him cleared his throat. Loudly. He sat down. Nothing infuriated him more than letting Trey get away with his shenanigans with women.
‘Calm down, Buck.’ Trey smiled. ‘It’s obvious you’re still in love with her.’
‘I respect her,’ he said, avoiding the question. ‘That’s more important.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I have an idea how we can save Ava’s reputation and your inheritance, but I need your help.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ Trey was eager to be a part of any scheme that would enable him to continue his gadabout lifestyle.
‘The reporter has only the word of a jealous woman that Ava is an actress. Why not discredit the rumor by showcasing her right here in the Waldorf?’
‘Here?’
‘Why not?’ Buck said. ‘Everyday, thousands of people stroll through Peacock Alley.’
The three-hundred-foot long corridor stretching along the Thirty-fourth Street side of the Waldorf was a showcase of wealth and glitter for the smart set. Ladies promenaded in their gowns and jewels, while eager shop girls gossiped and copied their fashion style.
Trey was shocked. ‘You want to parade Ava in front of all New York? Are you crazy? She’s not ready.’
Buck nodded. ‘You wouldn’t believe how much she’s changed, Trey.’
Changed? Then why was she still trying to tease him?
It had warmed him to see her like that, but it also made him realize the sooner she took her place as Trey’s wife, the better it would be for both of them. Peacock Alley was the perfect place to show the reporter how beautiful and accomplished Ava was as the countess, as well as give her the confidence she needed to face Mrs Benn-Brady’s snooty society crowd Saturday night.
‘If the public accepts Ava as the countess,’ Buck continued, ‘then the New York society snobs will have no choice but to accept her.’
‘I’m not so sure, Buck. The shop girls ogling the ladies strutting up and down the corridor don’t know a Vanderbilt from an Astor.’
‘But the society crowd is well aware of Mrs Benn-Brady’s fixation with marrying you off to an aristocrat. They know she’d never allow Ava to be seen in public before her debut if she wasn’t certain she was the Countess of Marbury.’
‘If my mother gets wind of this and finds out Ava is a housemaid, you’re out fifty thousand pounds and I’ll have to get a job.’ He groaned.
‘She won’t, Trey.’ Buck swallowed his drink in one gulp. ‘I’d stake my life on it.’
Fiona ‘Ava’ Winston-Hale, sixth Countess of Marbury, strutted with an arch to her step along the marble amber corridor of the Waldorf-Astoria, much to the delight of the shop girls nearly fainting with envy. The haughty pout of her lips, the sweep of her long eyelashes and the rustle of her raspberry silk and velvet cloak lined with apple green satin would have them copying her walk for weeks to come.
And, Ava thought, if Buck had his way, her name would be in all the gossip columns in tomorrow morning’s newspapers.
Holy Mary, was she really striding down the hotel hallway with his lordship and Trey like she was the Queen of Sheba?
She couldn’t believe the throng of people walking up and down the passageway before dinner. Ladies resplendent in silks and taffetas chattering with gentlemen in top hats, clerks telephoning guests, bellboys calling out names through the corridors.
It was a thrilling spectacle she’d never forget.
Ava stood up straighter and her sable-trimmed hood fell to her shoulders, revealing her red hair pulled up into a fancy chignon. The crowd oohed and aahed. No feathers to mar its color, Buck had insisted. He wanted her to boldly proclaim who she was instead of hiding it.
Hide? Ava never felt more exposed. She could barely breathe. Her waist was pulled in, her breasts pushed out and her hips swathed in cherry red satin. Her clinging sheath dress undulated with color and her low V-neckline showed off her necklace of marquise diamonds shimmering under the blazing chandeliers overhead. An overskirt of frothy white Venise lace trailed behind her like melting snowflakes.
Inside she was shaking so badly that if she saw a mouse scamper in front of her, she’d happily swoon into a faint to end her misery.
Have you no backbone, girl?
Ava wanted to shut out her inner voice, that part of herself that kept her on her toes. She couldn’t.
His lordship is counting on you to act like a grand lady.
Ah, but you’re not listening to me any more. All them fancy clothes and pretty words coming out of your mouth can’t make you a countess if you don’t have the courage. Well, do you?
Ava took a deep breath and pulled up her long white gloves, nearly shaking loose the delicate orchid corsage fastened above her elbow. Trey had bought it for her from Fleischman, New York’s most exclusive florist.
Then she prayed with all her fingers crossed she did have the courage.
As Ava set a slower pace along the corridor, a burst of youthful enthusiasm from a young shop girl tested whatever courage she had.
‘Look at her! So high and mighty,’ said the girl. ‘She don’t even know we exist.’
Ava turned around sharply and locked gazes with a shop girl sitting on the edge of a sofa. Embarrassed, the girl gasped loudly, and then quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
She was right about one thing, Ava thought. She would not have seen her through the crowd of onlookers vying for position if the girl had not let her envy show in such a vocal manner. As it was, she walked toward her for a closer look.
She was clearly a factory girl, a seamstress perhaps. And about her age.
Why, the little—
‘Pay no attention to her, Ava,’ Buck said in a low voice, taking her by the elbow and urging her along.
She pulled away from him.
‘After all I’ve been through, she can’t talk to me like that,’ Ava said, her ire up. ‘By the saints, I’ll—’
A gentle thought came to her then, along with a subtle fluttering of awareness as if someone had whispered in her ear.
The countess.
Fiona wouldn’t walk down the corridor with her nose in the air. No, she would have the courage to share her wit and poetry with the people who adored her.
And those who didn’t.
Like the shop girl.
What Ava did that night at the Waldorf had never been done before.
It was that moment which made her the talk of the town when she dared to step over the imagin
ary line followed by the delicate satin slippers of the society ladies and sat down next to the young woman in the battered floppy black hat and plain dark cotton dress.
The girl nearly choked.
A hush fell over the crowd of curious women, craning their necks to see better.
‘These orchids will look lovely on you,’ Ava said, removing the corsage from her arm. Then, before the shop girl could utter a word, she fastened it around her wrist.
‘Oh, miss – I couldn’t!’ exclaimed the girl. ‘Not after what I said.’
‘It takes courage to speak your mind,’ Ava said. ‘Something I admire even when your harsh words are about me.’
‘I didn’t mean it. Honest. It’s just that none of them other ladies ever notice us,’ she murmured with a sigh. ‘You’re different. You’re the finest lady I ever seen.’
Ava smiled and squeezed the girl’s hand, and then rejoined her two escorts in white tie and tails, looking at each other with bemused expressions.
‘Who is she?’ the girl said in a hoarse whisper to the two young matrons standing next to her with their mouths open.
‘The gentleman said she’s the Countess of Marbury.’
‘And a survivor of the Titanic,’ her friend added.
‘I should have known she was a real countess… and so brave,’ Ava heard the girl say as she continued on her stroll down the famed hallway.
She peeked over her shoulder and saw the girl beaming with joy as the crowd hovering around her erupted into loud cheering when she showed off her orchid corsage with a proud wave of her hand.
Ava swallowed hard. She had a warm feeling inside that the countess would be proud of her and that brought a tear to her eye.
‘You’re the star of Peacock Alley tonight, Ava,’ Buck whispered, acknowledging the smiles and waves from the giggling young women as they headed for the Palm Room.
‘Buck’s right,’ Trey said proudly. ‘After what you did for that girl, no woman can equal you.’
Not even Lady Pennington?