by Edith Layton
Chapter 3
She leaned forward in her chair, a smile on her lips; her eyelashes fluttering, though beneath them her eyes were fastened on his as she drank in his every word and watched his every expression as though experiencing a religious revelation. Eve wanted to shake her.
But Lucinda Thompson was her best friend in London. They’d met at a party and found something in common when they realized that Society had decided they’d both stayed a bit long on the shelf. Neither was as yet four and twenty, but young women in London Society had to be plucked fresh from the ranks of the eligible, or else people started whispering. Eve didn’t care. Lucinda did.
And now, on her visit to Eve this morning, Lucinda had happened to meet Aubrey Ashford. She was entranced. She was fascinated. And she was obviously trying to snare his interest.
Eve found herself annoyed, amused, and yet strangely, a little frightened too. Because Aubrey had paid her friend strict attention since the moment he met her, and was obviously bent on amusing and enthralling her. Eve discovered she didn’t like that. After all, the man was supposedly trying to win her hand. He didn’t have to try to seduce her best friend too. And she didn’t like the fact that she didn’t like it. Why should she care? The man was stunning, his attention flattering, but she didn’t really know him yet. The situation was getting more and more curious. He campaigned for her and then before he’d achieved his goal, set out to captivate her best friend? They hadn’t stopped talking since they’d met. Eve sat and watched and racked her brain trying to figure out his game.
If it was a game. But what else could it be? Lucinda was not the sort of female to capture a man’s interest. She was tall and thin, with a figure that was as straight as her lank brown hair. When she grew old, she might be considered “handsome.” Now she was considered invisible, at least to suitors. Eve sometimes thought it was because Lucinda held herself too low, and practically fawned on any interested male, and usually frightened them away. If she were rich and a beauty it wouldn’t matter. She had a tidy dowry, but nothing spectacular. She had no title, although she was related to many titled persons. But she was sweet and considerate. Still, how could a man know that on first meeting? Most didn’t opt for two. Aubrey was acting as though he were ready to propose marriage to her too.
What was he thinking of? The mystery deepened, as did the spell he seemed to have cast over Lucinda. Although Lucinda acted like this whenever a single gentleman happened to speak with her, it didn’t seem to repel Aubrey, as it did so many other gentlemen. He appeared to be hanging on her every word too.
Eve’s own eyes widened. Was he an incorrigible flirt? Well, better she should know that now than later. That sort of a man was not one she wanted, however handsome and clever and charming he might be. She was very glad she’d found that out now, she thought with a sinking heart.
“But we are neglecting our hostess,” Aubrey said, interrupting what he was saying to Lucinda.
“I didn’t mean to,” Lucinda said, startled. “It was only when I discovered who you were, and that you came from my part of the country, I couldn’t help comparing impressions. Of course, I didn’t know your grandfather, but I knew of him. Everyone in the district did. I can’t wait to tell my mother that I met you. But I won’t have to. She’s coming here to collect me this morning.” She turned to look at Eve. “I honestly didn’t mean to take over the conversation, Eve.”
Aubrey rose. “You didn’t. It was equally my fault; I found your recollections fascinating. But my rudeness is soon corrected. I’ve overstayed the allotted time for a morning caller. I look forward to my time as an evening caller. It’s dinner for us tonight, Eve. And then the Swanson’s for a musicale. Good day, Miss Lucinda. I hope to see you again. Good-bye, Eve, for now. I’ll see you soon, but not soon enough to suit me.”
He smiled, bowed, and left.
“Oh!” Lucinda breathed when he’d gone from the salon. She sat back and put a hand on her heart. “He is courting you. You lucky, lucky girl! There isn’t a female at home who wouldn’t envy you. The Ashfords are famous in our district. Such handsome men! Not that they ever stay around very long. They travel all the time. His grandfather charmed everyone, or so everyone remembers. They say his grandmother was a beauty, but when she began to ail they left the country to go to Italy for the climate. That’s where your Aubrey’s father was born. He came back to visit his estate once, but left soon again. I vow, I was only a child, but I never forgot the glimpses I got of him before he returned to Italy, which he considered his home. I hear he married there. This Mr. Aubrey was his only child and now he’s back. I vow your Aubrey is his father’s spit and image.”
“Not my Aubrey,” Eve corrected her, sitting back, vastly relieved.
“Why not? He has everything. What fault do you find in him?”
“None,” Eve said gloomily. “That’s the problem. I’ve plenty of faults. Why should this magnificent, faultless person want to marry me at first sight?
“It’s so romantic,” Lucinda sighed. “Why not just accept it? I would, should such a person want to marry me, for whatever reason.”
“He says I remind him of someone,” Eve said. “A woman he obviously adored. But that’s no basis for marriage either. I know you consider me mad, Lucy, but I want more from my husband. That’s why I’ve waited this long. Marriage is forever. I don’t want to make a misstep.”
Eve sat up suddenly. “Tell me about his family. He’s answered my questions about them, but not at length. All he says was that he was orphaned in Italy and came home to find his roots. I accepted that because, well, you know how it is when he’s talking. He changed the subject and I never got back to it. I can now. Tell me all about them. Everything you know, or guess, or have heard.”
“Didn’t you hear when I was talking with him?” Lucinda asked.
Eve’s cheeks grew pink. “I was distracted,” she said. “Tell me now. And tell me all.”
The dinner was delicious, the conversation witty, and Eve seldom stopped smiling. Aubrey was a wonderful host. The restaurant was elegant and in fashion. Sheridan was beyond thrilled to have been invited along. The newlywed young couple, friends of Aubrey’s, were charming, when they stopped staring into each other’s eyes and remembered where they were.
The musicale they went to next routed Sheridan after a half hour. He sat looking agonized, gazing around the room to see how he could make his getaway. Eve realized his plan even before he suddenly stood. He sat again when she tugged on his sleeve and whispered, reminding him that he’d agreed to be chaperone this evening. A maid wasn’t enough for a well-bred young woman. She began to think that a cloister of nuns wouldn’t be enough chaperonage for her when she was with Aubrey.
Sure enough, when they said good night to the young couple and returned to Eve’s house, Sherry bowed, said his thanks, and dashed off to meet some friends at a nearby tavern. Eve allowed her yawning maid to go to bed. And all the while, Aubrey stood in the hallway with a slight smile.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” Eve finally said, looking up at him, suddenly aware that she ought not to have sent her maid to bed so soon.
“No, thank you,” he said. “Ready to accept my proposal, Eve? Then you wouldn’t have to look so stricken because we were left alone.”
“You read my face, and not my mind,” she countered, annoyed at how transparent she was to him.
“Did I?” he said in a soft voice, stepping closer to her. “I think not. Let us be done with the problem, Eve. Once we know, we’ll know a lot more, and you’ll either dismiss me…or not.”
“Know what?” she said weakly as he bent to her, although of course, she knew. She closed her eyes, so as not to see his handsome face and be influenced by it or the tender look in his shockingly perceptive eyes. His lips were warm and soft on hers. Velvet and yet electrifying, she felt the tingle of first contact down to her toes. His mouth moved over hers, teasing, cajoling, gently urging her on. He was strong and yet under restraint. I
t reassured her. Soon, she felt entirely under his control and didn’t resist, because to surrender brought her so much pleasure and it was so wonderful to be taken out of herself, to be able to stop thinking.
She stood on her toes to taste more, because he was so close and yet still too distant. Then he took her in his arms and deepened the kiss, and she opened her lips against his to seek more of the sweet dark taste of him. She’d never experienced such a kiss.
And yet, drowning in the bliss of it, she soon found herself wanting more. Her body itched and tingled and yearned. Even the stableboy had tried for more. Now, one kiss led to another, and yet another. But he didn’t put his hands on her or over her, as she’d hoped he would. She crowded up to him; her thin gown allowing her to feel the heat of him. She knew he was not unmoved, but he made no further demands. Eve reached up and felt the clean thick silk of his hair under her hands, and sighed against his mouth.
Finally, her common sense started to overwhelm her senses. Why didn’t he try to sweep her entirely away? Her breasts were peaked against his chest; her breathing was quickened, she was burning, and she clung to him. Couldn’t he tell she wanted more? He who knew so much, how could he not know that? Impossible. He must be holding back. But why?
She moved back a step to look for an answer in his expression. But she wasn’t as good at reading him as he was at knowing her thoughts. She saw his raised eyebrow, and could only guess that was laughter at the back of his eyes. It made her take a breath, step further from him, and raise her chin. “I amuse you?” she asked shakily.
“No,” he said. “I’m only happy because I was right. Didn’t you feel it? That knowledge that we’re suited, mind and body?”
“I felt our mouths suited,” she said crossly. “That’s all.”
He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “But, Eve, I didn’t want to beguile your body unless I already had your mind, and I know I don’t. Nor did I want to compromise you, and then have you saying you only married me because of that for the rest of our lives. The answer must come from here,” he said, cupping her chin in one hand and raising her head, “and here,” he added, touching a fingertip to her breast, right over her beating heart. “And so, your answer is…?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “You stir my senses so much I find it hard to think. But then, when I do think, I have reservations. The same ones, and still with not enough explanation to ease my mind. Why me? Why so suddenly? I remind you of someone you loved? Surely that isn’t enough, not for me, at least. Because I’m not her, and never will be, nor do I want to be loved for who I resemble.”
“That spirit, that glow,” he said, touching a lock of her hair. “That’s the same. Little else is. And I do know you, Eve, apart from memories of yesterday. But if you want more time, I have all the time in the world to convince you. I only wish I didn’t have to use it, waiting. I yearn for you, you know.”
“I know,” she said miserably. Because he’d finally said everything a suitor ought. Except he hadn’t said he loved her, because it would be a lie. They both knew that. He wanted her, and that was very different. She knew that too, for herself.
“I’ll wait then,” he said. “Now then, my Miss Eve, you will see me tomorrow for tea?”
She nodded.
“And the next night, for the masquerade ball. Maybe you can learn more about me when I’m in disguise? You’re so contrary, that may turn the trick. I can’t wait to see what disguise you’ve chosen. Whatever it is, I’ll wager I’ll be your partner.”
“At the ball, yes. But maybe not in our costumes. Unless you wish it?”
“Oh,” he said, “I think you’ll find we will match in everything.”
“You have a spy in my house?” she asked in astonishment. “It can’t be Sherry. I didn’t tell him. But he has a way of talking the housemaids and the footmen around anything…he didn’t!”
“He did not,” Aubrey said. “I’m gambling on how well I know you.”
“What’s the wager to be?” she asked, hands on her hips. When they teased like this, she didn’t mistrust him.
“Name it.”
“So sure? This will be interesting. No material wager matters,” she said airily. “I just look forward to victory.”
“Then if material doesn’t matter to you, a kiss will to me. That’s the wager. If you win, you can come to me, anywhere, anytime, and kiss me. If I do, I get to kiss you, any time, anywhere. Agreed?”
“Yes,” she said brightly. “There’s no way I can lose if I win.” She laughed. “And you won’t win, we won’t be a pair in our costumes. But I’ll forgive you that.”
He laughed, took her back into his arms, kissed her speechless, and left her looking after him. She watched him go out into the night, bemused as always at how much she could want a man, and how suspicious she could be of him at the same time.
She slowly went up the stairs to her bedchamber. She could have asked her brother or her maid to stay until Aubrey had left. But she’d wanted what she got, even though it turned out she didn’t get half of it. He was still a mystery to her, but a more alluring one every moment.
Eve changed to her nightclothes, and then sat cross-legged on her bed and thought, her chin on her knees. She had a costume. She wouldn’t use it now. He’d said he’d know. Which was ridiculous. He couldn’t know. He didn’t even know what costumer she’d gone to. Still…
She needed a new costume. A good one. This wasn’t a public masquerade, where, Sherry told her, people dressed in unlikely costumes so no one would recognize them, so they could flirt and worse with their own maidservants and footmen or their best friends’ husbands and wives. This was a top-notch affair, where people wanted to be seen in all their glory.
She had to think of how Aubrey would want to be seen, and then dress differently, so as to win her wager. Once again, she was aware of how little she knew him. One thing she did know, she thought as she scowled—she’d be damned if he actually came up with a matching costume to hers. He said he knew her. She doubted he really did. If he did, it would be unsettling. And if he didn’t, she’d win. She loved winning.
That would show him she was her own person, not an echo from his past. She wasn’t a copy of anyone. If he could accept that, she might even be able to accept him. That would be wonderful, because whether she knew him well or not, deep down she knew very well that she very much wanted to say yes to him.
A thought came to her and made her sit up straight. She shouldn’t be thinking how he’d dress. She knew that. He’d said it. He’d be guessing her costume, and he’d match it. So she had to think and double think. First, she had to try to imagine what he’d thought she’d do, which was probably very likely what she’d like to do. Then, she’d have to do the opposite.
She’d been to masquerades before, but always wore one of her mother’s antique gowns and a mask. She’d planned something different this time. With such a magnificent escort, she’d wanted to go to the ball a glorious sight, gowned in gold and silver and veils: a queen, a fairy princess. She’d decided to be an exotic Eastern princess, garbed in golden silk, and with satin silvery streamers capped by softly tinkling bells. She’d have a veil and a beautiful headdress. She’d tried on the costume. It had everything she wanted but the bells. Her only worry had been that she wasn’t grand enough to carry off the disguise the way it should be shown. She’d tilted this way and that in the looking glass, cheered by her maid’s exclamations. She herself had been blinded by the shimmer of the fabric. She’d convinced herself it would be glorious.
She sighed. If she did rig herself out like that, she now realized she’d look very much like other women she’d seen at masquerades, each trying to outshine the others. And if she dared dress like that, and Aubrey really could know what she most wanted to do, he’d dress like a prince, and they’d match.
Which was ridiculous. He couldn’t know. Still…
So then, she thought, she should get a costume exactly unlike every other woman. A
pirate, or a tavern wench, or some such, would be simple, and she’d seen those costumes too. But they’d been on women of lower repute, or scandalous females of the ton. That was out. She had her own pride to think about.
She could dress like a man: a pageboy, or a young fop of a fellow. But then she’d have to show her legs, and so she’d be like one of those wild, attention-seeking creatures. She didn’t want to shame herself or look foolish. She wanted to look attractive, and yet not like anything Aubrey would imagine, however well he knew her.
Eve didn’t get much sleep that night. But she wasn’t tired in the morning. Instead, she leapt from her bed, and called her maid. She now knew what to do; she just had to find the materials to do it with.
“You look surprisingly handsome,” Eve said, circling her brother.
“Dash it all, I am handsome,” Sherry said.
“I never thought of you as a prince, though,” his sister said.
He preened. And he had the clothes to do it. He was in scarlet and gold: a scarlet capelet, a gold tunic tied with a scarlet belt over black tights, with soft high boots, and a dashing sort of a slouched hat with a brave red plume sitting tilted back over his ear.
“A Renaissance Prince, “she mused. “You know? It does suit you.”
It did, making him look rakishly slim rather than awkward and lanky.
“I’m Robin Hood,” he said proudly.
“That, you’re not,” she said. “The evil sheriff would have sent an arrow through you in a second if you’d gone romping through the forest in all that spangle.”
He thought a moment, and then shrugged. “Dashed fellow at the costume shop said Robin Hood, but a Renaissance prince it is then. Now, let’s get a look at you, whip off that hood and that cloak you’ve wrapped yourself in, and let me see.”
“Not yet,” she said, ducking her head. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“Mr. Ashford,” the butler announced.