Tempted By Fire

by Thea Devine

  However it was of no moment to the men who could not keep their eyes off of her. Only Jeremy understood, and she met his angry gaze with bland indifference, and then bent her attention to Charles Griswold, who was asking her something annoyingly banal about the performance of the opera she had attended.

  The tea arrived, and with it a tray of edibles, a light early afternoon repast; Blexter interrupted the conversation at one point to announce several more visitors: Chevrington and Annesley, who was also an intimate of both Southam and Jeremy, and before the clock struck one, there was a lively little party in progress in the Waynflete parlor.

  Jainee was behaving unexceptionally, Lady Waynflete thought, as she monitored her manners throughout the whole of the spirited conversation. Jainee sat demurely in the midst of what amounted to a coterie of the top of the ton, eligible men whom mothers would kill to drag to an evening's party let alone a tedious afternoon of tea and tittle-tattle, and she was neither forward nor inordinately attentive to any one of the men.

  She spoke with verve and humor to each in turn, and made

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  amusing observations on the little she had seen of London and its preening society, and she did nothing to command the obsessive interest in her except look gloriously beautiful and aloofly seductive.

  Lady Waynflete was about ready to throw in her hand and tell Southam he could not make a silk purse out of a silk purse, and she would turn his life inside out and upside down if he proceeded for one more moment with his mad plan.

  Of course, he arrived in the midst of the merriment and stood there, after Blexter had announced him, looking murderous as he surveyed the scene.

  "Do join us," Lady Waynflete invited, and he moved slowly and irritably into the room, and took a seat next to Jeremy who looked as out of patience as he felt.

  "She's a damned siren," Jeremy whispered as he passed a plate of something to him: he didn’t know what he picked up from it and popped into his mouth. It was a relief to chew on something, because he felt like biting Jainee, and that would have caused a riot.

  But then he hadn't expected to find her in an admiring sea of all his closest friends. He had anticipated that she had come out the worse for wear from their battle of wits and wills. He had not reckoned on her making good on her threat less than twenty-four hours after she had issued it.

  He should have known: the huntress would forever be on the prowl and nothing would ever satisfy her lust to ravish her prey.

  She looked ravishing this day; her skin was flushed with delicate color from her cheeks right down to the tempting hollow of her exposed bosom, and her eyes gleamed with that feral humor he so disliked. She was watching him, provoking him with her cheeky little references to how sweet it was that all these dear men had come to call on her. How kind they were; how they had complimented her all out of hand and just made her blush.

  And how they were all just watching her as she bent forward to speak to each and all of them, hoping to catch a glimpse of those pert naked breasts beneath the thin cover of that obscenely low neckline.

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  She was not naive; she knew what she was doing, and most of all, she understood exactly what she was doing to them and to him.

  And yet, her manner and her manners were impeccable; she said nothing unseemly to anyone and each of them could not keep his eyes off of her.

  It was Lady Waynflete who decided to topple her oh so virtuous virgin from her pedestal. "Did you know," she asked brightly, "that Miss Bowman reads fortune cards?"

  Her announcement caused an immediate hubbub and each of her fawning new acquaintances begged for her to read his cards.

  "Really, Miss Bowman —I met you first, I believe that is an entitlement."

  "Nonsense! She was introduced to my family first, isn't that so, Lady Waynflete; did she not meet my mother before we met at the opera? That gives me several hours up on you, Chevrington."

  "Boys, boys, boys," Lady Waynflete said gently, holding up her hands. She had known them all since practically the cradle, and she had no intention of letting this party trick get out of hand. If anything, she had wanted it to diminish Jainee in their eyes, but they were so dazzled they could see nothing but her pushed-up bosom and her tantalizing cat-eyes. "We'll send for Marie—she knows where you keep the cards, my dear?"

  "She does," Jainee said, slanting a coaxing little smile at Chevrington.

  Lady Waynflete summoned Blexter who would relay the demand to Marie.

  The room settled into an excited silence, and everyone's eyes focused on Jainee's elusive smile until Blexter returned with her little leather pouch, carried disdainfully on a silver salver which he placed before Lady Waynflete.

  "Thank you, Blexter." He withdrew, and Lady Waynflete surveyed the scene benignly. They were all like eager little schoolboys, with exception of Nick and Jeremy, who sat slightly apart looking bored and faintly annoyed.

  "Now Jainee, my dear, I do believe that Nick needs his fortune

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  told. He has been supremely out of sorts since we returned to London. So come, make room for Jainee and Nick shall benefit from the wisdom of the cards today."

  The scramble to give over a seat to Jainee was almost comical, but Nick did not move, thus forcing her to come to him, and she was very well aware of it. Chevrington moved a chair so that she faced him directly, and she thanked him so seductively that Nicholas almost reached across the table which Jeremy had set in front of him, and slapped her.

  She sat down opposite him in an exaggerated way so that he got a full good view of her luscious breasts, and so did each of the men surrounding her.

  She sent him a provoking smile. "Let us begin, my lord."

  She took the pouch, removed the cards, and shuffled them. Then she handed them to Nicholas to both inspect and shuffle. He gave them back to her and she indicated he should cut them with his left hand.

  He did this and she took the deck and began counting out the first seven cards, laying the seventh one face up and reunited the previous six cards with the rest of the deck. She did this twelve times so that twelve cards were laid face up between them.

  The silence, as they all awaited her interpretation, was breathtaking.

  Even she was slightly startled at the way the cards turned up and she looked up at him uncertainly, all the coquetterie washed from her expression, and set the remainder of the deck aside pensively.

  "Pure mumbo-jumbo," Nicholas snapped, irritated by the unnatural silence and Jainee's inordinately solemn expression.

  "Of course, my lord," she said lightly. "Magic and sleight of hand; however, the cards come up inordinately negative. Are you certain you wish to hear?"

  "How do I know they are my cards," Nicholas demanded aggressively.

  She pointed to the Jack of hearts. "The eligible man, my lord, and he is you. You have cut the cards. The fortune reads for you."

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  Nicholas leaned back in his chair and looked around at the somewhat anxious faces of his friends.

  The woman was a witch: how had she got them all so fraught with worry about what the cards revealed, he wondered. Even he was not immune to her magic.

  "Read the cards," he said easily, understanding now that she had woven a spell out of the mystery of the reading and the anxiety of the participants. She was quite amazing, really; it almost seemed like she managed the illusion unconsciously, that she fed on the emotions in the room.

  "Very well, my lord. The Jack heart reverse signifies yourself, but it also connotes a person who might have been useful to you. Don't count on it. And here, another warning about someone who will betray you. A surprise, here, unpleasant; perhaps something you were expecting that will not come to hand. But you will have success—in gambling, in speculation, the cards do not specify. I see—I see love affairs, a marriage proposal, but it is true, too, that you will have to wait for your plans to come to fruition. There are three warnings, one of bad news, one a betrayal, and one an unexpec
ted journey. The cards have foretold it, my lord."

  They were riveted: she was so sure.

  She took the deck and integrated the cards. "We will proceed. We will read for the person, the house, the future and the surprise."

  She shuffled the cards again, presented them to him to be cut, reformed the deck and dealt out four sets of three cards each.

  "The first pack," she continued, "denotes the person, yourself, my lord. You will be involved in love affairs, but some one will become your lover. But still, beware the deceptive one, my lord, for in your house there will be bad news and no success in some future venture. Someone will surprise you, my lord, and so here, in the future, there will be money, illegal profits, perhaps . . . prison. Yet here, in the surprise, the cards show happiness, some discord, and ultimately, my lord, a probable marriage."

  She lay the cards aside just as he broke into sardonic applause. 170

  "Wonderful, Miss Bowman. Wonderful. A complete fairy tale, deliciously entertaining."

  "But you must read my fortune next," Charles Griswold interposed.

  "And mine." This from Chevrington and lavender simultaneously.

  Jainee put up her hands in protest. "Truly, I would love to accommodate all of you," she said with just a trace of archness in her voice as she angled an insolent look at Nicholas’ implacable expression, "but reading the cards makes me so tired."

  She turned her attention directly to Chevrington, quite powerfully aware that Nicholas was simmering with displeasure, and she told him how delightful it had been to see him again, and he rose and bowed over her hand and got as good a view down her dress as anyone had that afternoon.

  And Nicholas watched her blatant playing out of this scene with grim amusement. She manipulated everything, from her ingenuous little protestation right down to the order in which her guests would leave, each stopping at her chair to have a private word of farewell, and each taking his damned time while he stood over her and enjoyed the beguiling fantasy of possessing those nakedly displayed breasts.

  Finally it was his turn, but he did not rise up to pay his respects: he waited until, after an uncomfortable moment, she arose and came to him.

  "My lord, I hope my reading gave you pleasure."

  "You were most accommodating," he said insolently, looking up at her through hooded eyes, liking the fact she knew not what to do in the face of his extremely bad manners and his rude references.

  Her eyes flashed, and the cat-smile appeared. "I wish I could have accommodated all the other gentlemen, but, well, there will be other times, other places, do you not agree, my Lord?"

  "Which you will embrace with both hands in your ongoing effort to give pleasure in all quarters," Nicholas growled.

  "I'm sure my new friends will agree that it is a fine thing to give pleasure where and when one can," Jainee said, "and I'm

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  positive they all appreciate a woman who can accommodate their various caprices. That is surely what makes one woman more desirable than the next, and the thing that makes a man a willing thrall to her tyranny."

  "But who enslaves who?" Chevrington asked coyly.

  "Why my lord, I leave that for you to—uncover," she said pertly, and she turned to Nicholas. "I bid you good afternoon, my lord," and she bowed deeply, deliberately, enragingly, and rose up, imperious as any wanton and sailed out of the room like a queen.

  ******************

  She was so pleased with herself: she had vanquished Nicholas Carradine and made him understand fully that any man he knew was as easy to manipulate as a piece of raw material in her hands.

  He would not be so complacent about their bargain from now on, she thought as she closeted herself in her room, allowed Marie to help undress her, and then wrapped herself in a chintz robe in preparation for resting before dinner.

  It would be early tonight: Lady Waynflete was going out and Jainee was not invited, a fact which actually relieved her. It meant she need not dress formally for dinner and that she would have an evening to herself, although what she would do with all that solitude, she did not know.

  Marie bustled in with her dress which she laid on the bed. "All goes well, mademoiselle? The card reading this afternoon? Monsieur was pleased?"

  "Monsieur is never pleased and I intend never to give him that satisfaction," Jainee said lazily.

  "You have reason," Marie agreed. "When a man is satiated, his interest goes far afield. Do not give Monsieur the opportunity until you have accomplished your ends."

  "My thinking exactly," Jainee murmured, fingering the luxurious silken material of the gown.

  "Monsieur has been generous, mademoiselle."

  "In this respect, yes," Jainee agreed, giving herself over to Marie's experienced hands.

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  Marie helped her wash down her bare skin and helped her into the silken stockings that matched the dress. She wore only the thin underdress of the garment beneath a pleated muslin gown with long banded sleeves.

  Marie fussed, straightening a line there, pulling up the shoulder line here, making sure that her breasts were cupped precisely into the bosom line of the bodice which was detailed with satin ribbon edging which outlined the shape of her breasts.

  The effect was stunning, and she wore white kid slippers with white satin ties a la Roman, and a satin ribbon bound up in her luxuriant hair.

  "Madame will not be pleased with the alteration of the bosom," Marie murmured, as she tied another white satin ribbon under Jainee's breasts and fastened it behind so that the long ends fluttered behind her when she walked.

  "But we are looking to please Monsieur," Jainee pointed out, turning this way and that in the mirror. "Yes, this is excellent: that Madame Signy did not like to show a woman's breasts, I will tell you. And of course the whole will be wasted on Lady Waynflete anyway. No matter, this is the simplest of the gowns, and meant for dining en famille, and I shall be able to wear it again on another occasion."

  "The time will soon come when mademoiselle may begin her search in earnest."

  "Yes," Jainee said, her expression turning sober. "I don't know what I expected when I made this devil's bargain with Monsieur, but I cannot let myself forget my purpose. It is so easy to be seduced by inconsequentials."

  "I do not call Monsieur inconsequential," Marie murmured, as she escorted Jainee out the door.

  "Nothing about Monsieur is negligible," Jainee said drily.

  "Then do not trifle with him," Marie advised. "At least—not for long."

  ******************

  "I will not, of course, allow them to make you into a party game," Lady Waynflete said over dessert, after a pleasant dinner

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  consisting of two of each course and a stream of trivialities. "Your behavior was almost unexceptional this afternoon, barring the last moments with Nicholas. I cannot understand why you must goad him in that brazen way. It is not the thing and surely it made you appear in a lesser light to the gentlemen who witnessed it."

  Jainee thought not but forebore to mention it. "I will try to contain my temper," she said meekly.

  "And I will try not to comment on the unseemly aspect of your new gowns, which have obviously been remodeled."

  Thank you, my lady. As we have said, I am no green girl and I am proud of my stature and my style."

  Lady Waynflete's mouth tightened slightly. "We will leave it at that. I will leave you now before we come to blows over what constitutes style. I wish you a profitable evening, Jainee. I will see you in the morning."

  The house seemed cavernous and empty without her, as if the mere force of Lady Waynflete's personality inhabited it. In truth, there was little to occupy her except if she chose to read a book.

  There was a room full of them and she wandered aimlessly along the shelves looking for something that wasnt poetry or a philosophical tract, and she settled finally on a novel, and took the book with her upstairs to her room.

  "Madame is perceptive," she told Marie, "bu
t she will not fight it."

  Marie unhooked the dress, untied the sash and slipped the dress over her head. Jainee picked up the chintz robe which was laying on the bed.

  "Not Monsieur's?" Marie asked softly as she hung the dress in the wardrobe.

  Jainee stiffened. "Not Monsieur's," she said into the lingering pause, and she picked up the robe and slipped it over the thin underdress.

  Marie knew. She hated that, but she should have expected it. She wrapped the robe tightly around her as if it could protect her from Marie's comprehension and Southam's wrath.

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  "You may go," she told Marie coldly, and Marie withdrew without a word.

  She should not encourage Marie to become a confidant, she thought, climbing up into the bed with a candlestick and the book. Did she really think she was going to read? Look at her— she had not bothered to remove either her undress or her slippers and stockings. Clear clues, surely, that she really wanted to be going somewhere.

  She felt as if it were a night when everyone had something to do except her; she even felt a little rancor that Lady Waynflete had not included her in her plans.

  Tonight, the book was boring. Reading was for a rainy afternoon when callers were few and far between and there was a cozy fire in the parlor fireplace, and chocolate, steaming and rich, at her elbow.

  And the chocolate pot aimed at Southern's most proud possession. She did enjoy thinking about how she had bested him that afternoon. He had not been able to constrain her yet, and she meant to make it as hard as possible for him to ever have his way.

  But why was she even thinking of insolent arrogant Lord Southam who was as high-handed as a judge and jury combined. The next encounter would be soon, perhaps at the Tallingers' dinner, and she would tweak him and twiddle him and make him sorry he ever tried to dictate to her.

  "I told you that you had better not take the chance of not wearing the gown I had made for you." He closed the door behind him and strolled into the room. "Or did you conveniently forget the terms of our agreement?"