A Reckless Match
Page 27
Of course it was a waltz. Because she had the worst luck in the entire world, apparently. She held her breath as he gave her arm a gentle tug and pulled her around to face him. Her front bumped his chest, and she sucked in a little breath.
God, she’d missed him.
From the corner of her eye she saw her father pause mid-sentence to stare at her in shock. Auntie Con, over by the punch table, raised her glass in a cheeky toast and sent her an encouraging nod.
Gryff slid his left hand to rest at the small of her back and raised their joined right hands in preparation for the dance. Her skin heated as he subjected her to a thorough inspection. His gaze lingered on the skin of her shoulder, left bare by the deep V neckline of the dress. She’d powdered her skin, but the faint fernlike scars left by the lightning were still visible.
It was the first time she’d ever worn a dress that revealed them in public, but the dread she’d expected hadn’t materialized; the only opinion she cared for was his, and he’d already seen her almost naked. And approved.
No more hiding.
“Nice dress,” he said.
“Thank you. I got tired of hiding my scars.”
“Bravo.”
His light praise made her feel buoyant, but she reminded herself not to be swayed by his flattery.
There was no time for further conversation. The musicians launched into the opening bars and Gryff simply swept her away.
* * *
Carys Davies took a deep breath and edged closer to Tristan Montgomery, being careful to make it look as if the crowd—and not her will—was bringing them together. She kept her face averted, but she knew exactly the moment his cool blue eyes came to rest on her neck: Her entire body tingled.
He’d always made her react this way.
With one last, practiced trill of laughter she dismissed her previous dance partner and twirled around—and feigned a gasp of shock as she bumped into Tristan’s solid body.
His hands shot out to steady her arms, and she allowed herself the illicit thrill of pressing her palms to his chest as if searching for balance. Heat and strength flowed into her.
“Oh, goodness! Do excuse me,” she said brightly.
He stepped back, as if her touch burned him, but she still managed to inhale a heady waft of his cologne. It made her stomach flutter.
His brows drew together in a frown—his standard expression for her—and she quelled a spurt of irritation. To every other female he was courtesy itself, dry wit and easy charm personified. Why had she always been the sole recipient of his displeasure? Even as children he’d dismissed her as being too young and too silly to bother with.
He was so controlled, so coolly amused. It drove her mad. And his polite disapproval always made her worry that he saw right through the carefree social persona she worked so hard to project—to the lost and broken girl she was inside.
Carys blinked. Nonsense. He was just a humorless grouch.
A gorgeous, irresistible grouch.
She sent him her most dazzling smile. “Montgomery! You’re back unscathed from the Continent.”
He gave the briefest of nods. “As you see.”
“Your Grand Tour was a success?”
A little warmth came to his eyes. “It was. Italy was a revelation. Architecture is so much better in person, rather than illustrated in a book.”
His gaze flicked to her ridiculous coiffeur and the corners of his mouth twitched. In any other man it might have been amusement, but with him it was undoubtedly disapproval.
“Some things have to be seen to be believed,” he said drily.
Carys felt an unaccustomed blush rise on her skin. Everyone else in the ton thought her wildly amusing and creative. Tristan Montgomery always managed to make her feel frivolous and faintly ridiculous. Which she was, of course—deliberately so—but it irked her to have him point it out.
Quite why she should crave his approval was beyond understanding. As Morgan said, she should content herself with her scores of other admirers.
But there was something so deliciously unattainable about Tristan. It was probably because everyone else liked her, and he was the sole anomaly. The thought of getting him to smile, or to look at her with anything other than slightly sardonic amusement, called to her like a silent challenge.
A new set was forming for a waltz. Carys glanced longingly at the dance floor, in the vain hope that he would take the hint and ask her to dance, but he merely gave her a polite nod.
“Do excuse me, I see Lord Pennington over there. I’ve promised to design him a new orangery.” His blue eyes flicked over her face, lingering for the briefest of moments on her lips, and he gave a faint, cynical smile. “Business before pleasure, Lady Carys.”
“Only in the dictionary,” Carys quipped. “B before P. Unless you’re a courtesan, of course. Then pleasure is your business.”
Her heart pounded as she waited for his reaction to her deliberately provocative words. No gently bred woman would ever use the word courtesan in polite conversation.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and her heart missed a beat.
She’d made him smile!
“You say the most dreadful things, Lady Carys,” he said mildly.
His gaze dropped to her lips once more and a fizzle of excitement shimmered through her blood. His tone might be cool, but surely she wasn’t imagining the flash of heat in his eyes?
“Someone should stop your mouth.”
Carys lost the power of speech. Before she could think of anything suitably biting to say in return—and, mercifully, before she blurted out Oh, please do!—he gave her a quick bow and strode away.
She let out a slow, simmering breath. Dear Lord. Why was it that she could flirt with a hundred other men and feel nothing but faint enjoyment, but every interaction with Tristan Montgomery left her singed. She was like a moth to the uncaring flame.
Which was stupid, because she was the flame-haired, passionate one, whereas Tristan was as calm and collected as a glacier.
Except for those brief flashes of heat.
Carys bit her lip. Perhaps he wasn’t a glacier after all, but a mountain, like Vesuvius: deceptively snowcapped on the surface, bubbling lava beneath.
What would it take to make him erupt…?
* * *
Maddie swirled around in Gryff’s embrace. They’d never danced before. Not even a country dance at one of the local gatherings. But their bodies didn’t seem to need instruction, and her heart soared as they turned as effortlessly as water over a mill wheel. The room blurred into a kaleidoscope of jewels and dresses as she gazed up into his handsome face.
The sensation of being in his arms, of belonging there, was so perfect that her heart squeezed tight, as if already anticipating the loss. She tried to take in every detail: the scent of him, the strength of his thigh as it slid against hers, the confident way he guided her around the dance floor. In case this was the first and only time.
When the dance ended it took a jolt from someone behind her to bring her back to earth. Gryff led her off the dance floor and she followed, unresisting, even when she realized he wasn’t returning her to any of her relatives. He drew her into a relatively quiet corner, by an open door that led out onto a small balcony. Maddie was glad for the cooler breeze as she willed her pounding heart to slow.
“So, tell me about the dictionary.”
He smiled. “You’re relentless.”
“You’re prevaricating.”
He leaned his shoulder casually against the wall, blocking her view of the room and creating an oddly intimate atmosphere. She tried not to notice how good he looked in evening dress.
“That dictionary,” he said, “is the perfect metaphor for a successful marriage. Two halves that are incomplete. Better together than apart.”
“That’s very poetic.”
He tilted his head and studied her intently. “It’s also the perfect metaphor for our two families.”
“Co
nstantly divided?” she quipped.
“Better together. The Davieses and the Montgomerys need each other to be complete. Think about it: Would your father have been happy if I’d just given him my half of the dictionary?”
“Well, no. Probably not,” she admitted. “He’d have been incredibly suspicious.”
“And disappointed. He got far more pleasure from outbidding me, because something hard-won is always more appreciated than something that’s come easily.”
His intense gaze was making her feel hot and agitated.
“Well, that’s true,” she managed, a little breathlessly. “And I have to admit it was a clever plan, because he’ll probably be feeling magnanimous enough to agree to your railway now. Especially if it helps get our half of the gold out of the ground faster.”
He took a step closer. “I didn’t do it so he’d agree to the railway.”
Her heart began to pound.
“I did it,” he said, “because he’s got something I want much more than a dusty old book. Something far more valuable. I’ve wanted it for a very a long time, only I didn’t realize it until recently. Now I don’t think I can live without it. I’d give him my whole library, every ounce of gold in that mine, if that’s what it takes.”
Her heart clenched—she’d never expected to hear such an admission from him—but she bit her lip, determined to be honest. Wanting wasn’t the same as loving.
“If you’re talking about me, and having an affair, then I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
His eyes bored into hers. “Because you don’t want me?”
“Because I like you too much,” she admitted in a painful whisper.
He let out a whoosh of air, as if her answer had relieved him of a heavy weight. He reached out and caught her hand, threading their fingers together, and she braced herself for having to counter his arguments on why they should still be lovers.
“Do you love me, Maddie?”
She glanced away, flustered. “What does that have to do with it?”
“Everything, I’d imagine,” he said drily. “Since I love you.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “What?”
“I love you.” His crooked smile melted her heart. “I think it’s a lifetime affliction.”
She shook her head, stunned. “But—”
“I need two words from your dictionary. They both begin with M.”
“Which ones?”
“Marry me.”
All the air left her lungs. “But—”
“I’ll relinquish my claim on the shared land,” he said quickly. “If you think it will help your father agree.”
A shaky laugh escaped her. “And end the feud? That’s the last thing he’d want. We’d have more luck convincing him to let me marry you so I can be his spy in the enemy camp.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Is that a yes, then?”
Maddie couldn’t stop the smile that split her face. “Yes!” She lifted their joined hands and pressed them to the center of her chest. “Oh, why did you ask me in the middle of a crowded ballroom, you beast? I want to kiss you, and I can’t.”
“You’re right. That was incredibly stupid.”
With a quick glance over his shoulder, he tugged her through the open door and out onto a narrow balcony barely wide enough for the two of them. He kicked the door closed with his heel, whirled her around in a flurry of skirts, and backed her up against the cool wall. Her heart pounded in anticipation.
“Do you want me to get down on one knee?”
“It is tradition.”
He shook his head but dropped to one knee and raised her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles. The glow from the ballroom lit the angles of his face, and Maddie marveled at her incredible good fortune. This man was hers, forever. Maybe she wasn’t the unluckiest girl in the world.
“Madeline Montgomery, will you marry me?”
“That’s a lot of alliteration,” she teased. “But yes. I’d be honored.”
He surged to his feet and pressed her back against the wall, and she shivered, loving the heat and the hardness of him. “You should kiss me now,” she breathed. “To seal the bargain.”
He smiled as he caught the reference. “Like we did at the bridge?”
“Exactly.”
“My pleasure.”
Maddie returned his kiss with ardent enthusiasm. With a sigh of pure joy, she flung her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, pressing herself against him.
Home.
It was at least ten minutes later when they finally pulled apart. Her lips were tingling and her blood was singing in her veins. “We really should go back to the party,” she panted. “We’ll be missed.”
Gryff nodded. “I’ll call on your father tomorrow and formally ask for your hand.”
“Sir Mostyn offered two thousand pounds if I’d marry him,” she couldn’t resist teasing.
“I’ll offer five.”
“That might just do it,” she said. “Especially if I tell him I don’t want anyone else. I know he can be a bit cantankerous, but he really does want to see me happy. He’ll grumble and stomp, but he’ll agree in the end. He loves me too.”
They managed to slip back into the ballroom unobserved. It was the height of torture to spend the rest of the evening keeping a polite distance from each other, but Maddie was amused to watch the other members of their families in action.
Morgan, she noted, was watching Harriet whenever her cousin wasn’t looking. The odd, calculating look on his face made her resolve to have a word with Harry about being wary of Davies men with a grudge.
Better still, the sight of Carys, Gryff’s vivacious, redheaded sister at the center of a gaggle of admirers, had Tristan shooting daggers of disapproval across the room.
Maddie bit back a smile. Those two really were complete opposites in terms of temperament: controlled, ordered Tristan and impetuous, laughing Carys. She couldn’t wait to see them forced to spend some time together in the coming weeks.
Gryff was right: Neither family would welcome a complete end of hostilities. Hating each other was simply too much fun. She and Gryff might be making an alliance, but this could very well be the start of a whole new era of Davies-Montgomery rivalry …
Epilogue
Maddie descended the steps to the Virtuous Well and pulled a silver sixpence from her reticule. The water level was much higher now than when she and Gryff had escaped from it; she could see the dark ripples of water about halfway down the shaft.
She closed her eyes, muttered a wish, and tossed the coin.
A pair of strong arms came around her from behind, and with a smile she leaned back into her husband’s embrace.
“What are you wishing for?” Gryff asked. His lips nuzzled the side of her neck. “I don’t know what you could possibly want. You already have an amazing, attentive husband who lets you do whatever you like.”
Maddie bit her lip as she tried not to laugh at his insufferable conceit. She glanced down at the wedding band that glimmered on her left hand; Gryff had used the first gold extracted from the Davies-Montgomery mine to make it.
“I was wishing for the people I love to find equal happiness,” she said. “Tristan, and Harriet.”
“What about my side of the family? Rhys and Morgan are as wild as ever, and Carys is causing me endless sleepless nights.”
“I wished for them too,” she smiled. “And you know, I’ve been thinking…”
“Always dangerous.” He pressed kiss to her ear.
“The next time a Davies has to meet a Montgomery for the equinox, who do you think we should send? Tristan and Carys? Or Harriet and Morgan?”
Gryff turned her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll leave it entirely up to you, my love.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks, as ever, to Patricia Nelson at MLLA and Jennie Conway and all the team at St. Martin’s Press for keeping me on the straight and narrow. To Gen, Sara, and Tara for your friendship, endless
support, and encouragement. And a huge thank you to every reviewer, blogger, YouTuber, and Book-stagrammer who not only read my books, but share your love of romance with the world. Thank you! Your passion and enthusiasm are so appreciated by authors like myself. Finally, to everyone who’s ever left a review because you’ve loved my books, thank you too! I hope you enjoy this one just as much. Happy reading!
Love, Kate
Don’t miss the next book in the Ruthless Rivals series
by Kate Bateman
A DARING PURSUIT
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