by Mary Martin
"I wouldn't tarry too long, Bucky dear. Starlin's prince charming just might materialize and steal her right from beneath your ardent gaze," Paula Allenton quipped lightly.
Courtland's fingers reached out to brush Starlin's in a parting gesture before stiffly addressing Paula Allenton. "And knowing you, Lady Paula, I'm certain that you have him secured away in an alcove, and are just waiting for the opportunity to whisk him forward." He managed a curt bow before walking away.
Sir Thorpe shook his head at Paula. "Our lovesick friend just can't win when you're around, my dear. He has set his cap for our Lady Starlin, hasn't he?'
"And far too boldly," Starlin added. It was no secret among the tonnish mob that Lady Paula and Court-land crossed swords at every opportunity. They tolerated each other for Starlin's benefit. Tonight, it appeared their endurance was wearing thin. ,
Lord Thorpe glanced hurriedly after Courtland's retreating figure. "You ladies go on. I'll go help our boy with the refreshments. We'll be around later."
"Perfect," Paula whispered to Starlin as he walked away. She grasped her friend by the arm and directed Starlin toward the open terrace doors. "Let's take advantage of our freedom while we can."
Starlin smiled knowingly. "You really mean—let's lose our gentlemen friends and give Bucky something else to stew about. You never let up for a moment on him, and it's no wonder he has the disposition of a bear when you're around."
Girlish laughter floated on the wavering night breeze. After they'd managed to weave through the guests on the outside terrace Starlin and Paula meandered along a flagstone path lit by tinted lamps, casting prisms of amber-soft light over the grounds. The weather was lovely, the delicate fragrance of flowers wafting on gentle breezes. Long cloth-covered tables sat about the lawns, silver gleaming in the moonlight, delicious smells wafting from beneath covered dishes. Groups of people were sampling the exquisite fare and chatting companionably. Paula paused, her pudgy nose fairly twitching at the mouthwatering smells. "I just have to have a sampling of that divine food. Do you mind, luv?"
Starlin smiled. "Of course not. But it does look as if a crowd is gathering quickly at the stands. I'll just go on ahead and secure our seats."
"I'll be along shortly," Paula called out as Starlin moved away from the canopy of trees toward the raised platform where many of the guests were choosing seats for a better view of the display.
She climbed the wooden stairs and selected four chairs. She sat quietly to await the start of the fireworks that were always spectacular. It took several minutes for her to realize that she could overhear a conversation that was taking place below the stands. The voices were hushed but distinctly male. She paid little notice until she heard something that caught her full attention.
"Well what do you want me to do, short of murder, that is? I warned you this rogue was no ordinary foe."
"Keep your voice down," the other man snapped.
Starlin peered down between the wooden bench slats and saw two men standing off in the shadows, unaware that she had taken a seat above them.
The first man spoke in a hushed voice. "All was going well until he showed up. I turned my men into pirates to underhandedly destroy my competitors in that area, and had just about achieved my intentions when, quite unexpectedly, I find myself confronted with that bastard trying to do the same to me. He has managed to cripple many of my ships. I cannot delay my stay much longer. I must leave soon."
A cold chill swept over Starlin, and she wondered who the men were. In the blink of her eye, they had moved away. The first gillocks and Roman candles exploded overhead drawing her attention, and she was left to wonder if she had imagined what she'd just heard. She shook her head and promptly waved to Paula who was approaching the stands.
After Paula was seated beside her, Starlin told her what she'd overheard.
Paula raised her eyebrows. "Intriguing, but I would forget it if I were you, dear. You know how *your outspokenness is viewed? Just leave it be."
Yet, even after the two women were joined by Courtland and Thornton, and sat watching the spectacular finale explode colorfully across the dark sky, Starlin found that she was still reviewing that sinister conversation in her mind. She glanced up to find Buckwald Courtland's adoring gaze fixed upon her. Starlin sighed inwardly, realizing that she had serious problems of her own to consider. Courtland leaned over to whisper in her ear that he had found a few private minutes in which to speak to her grandfather. And that he was bloody well elated by the outcome of their conversation.
Starlin managed a smile as she posed the very important question so that only he could hear her. "When do I get to hear what you discussed, milord?'
He squeezed her arm, an intimate gesture that made her flinch.
"Just a few more details to work out, sweet. And then you will be told everything."
Starlin found herself almost mesmerized by those golden, gleaming eyes of Courtland viewing her as if she were a wild vixen that he had at last managed to corner. The fireworks ended. He took her arm and rose to his feet.
"Excuse us, please," he told Paula and Terrence. "Milady and I are going to have one last dance together before the ball ends."
Arm in arm they walked back to the brightly lit ballroom. Courtland did all of the talking, Starlin finding herself far too numb to comment. Had her grandfather seen fit to betroth her to Courtland? Would he do that knowing full well how she felt about such a match?
By the time they reached the house, the crowd was breaking up. The room was less crowded and Court-land eagerly escorted Starlin toward the dance floor.
The earl was occupied with several of their guests on the far side of the room. The Dowager Courtland unknowingly granted Starlin a reprieve when she came to fetch her son to escort one of her prominent friends about the dance floor. Starlin could feel Courtland's eyes watching her as he danced, and she glanced quickly about for a place of refuge until she was able to find a private moment in which to talk with her grandfather. She could see several young men hurrying in her direction, so with a sigh of frustration, she retreated to a quiet corner to untangle her thoughts.
To the casual observer she appeared outwardly calm, yet there was one guest who was quick to notice the tip of her satin slipper tapping in' agitation from beneath the hem of her gown. Obviously, there was something very pressing on the lady's mind.
Rayne Morgan noticed her immediately from across the ballroom. And as he'd watched her move gracefully about, slim form held so proudly straight, he thought she looked vaguely familiar. He was intrigued with everything about her. And then it came to him. This was the girl he'd encountered in the cave on Torquay— Lady Starlin Cambridge—his sworn enemy!
Suddenly his emerald eyes narrowed and his full lips tightened grimly. He had vowed long ago to wreak havoc and destruction upon the blood relatives of Carl Cambridge. He would not, could not, break that vow. He'd have to tread carefully, for there was no^doubt the chit was smart. Undoubtedly she would recognize him before long. And he would have to convince her that his transformation from pirate to aristocrat was a sincere one.
Having been a rogue for so many years, even he found it hard to believe he'd resumed his former manner of life so easily. He'd stayed at Castle Sontavon for several months before converging upon London in order to completely banish the rough-edged Scorpio from his actions. With ease, Rayne had fallen back into the way of life that he had been born to. No one in England knew of his other identity, none had questioned his lengthy seclusion at his castle so far removed from London's whirl. And when he'd felt the time was right, he'd come to London and had been unhesitantly accepted back by his peers.
Starlin Cambridge was the only person in England who might reveal him as the pirate, Scorpio. He stared at her in thoughtful silence, knowing that if given the opportunity, and if not handled with kid gloves in the future, that milady would tell everyone what she knew.
Make your move, Morgan, he thought, and make certain you give the la
dy no chance to gull you.
Starlin was trembling. For some time now she'd been certain that someone was watching her. Like a wild thing seeking a means of escape from an unknown danger, her violet eyes searched the sea of familiar faces for the intruder. She could hear the strains of the last melody begin and noticed the possessive gleam in Courtland's eyes as he started toward her, but before he could even open his mouth, she boldly cut him off.
"I know we were to have had this final dance, milord. However, I simply must decline your offer for I am wretchedly tired."
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he forced a smile. "Of course. I can wait until our engagement ball for that dance, milady. It will be soon—I assure you."
A formally attired servant bearing a tray of champagne-filled glasses interrupted the tense silence as he stepped between them and offered up a silver tray. "Champagne, Your Ladyship, Your Lordship?"
"Yes, thank you, Bridges," Starlin replied, grateful for the timely intervention. "I think we could use a bit of refreshment at this point."
Starlin accepted a glass, and without another glance in Courtland's direction, moved away from him. Amid a rustle of silk, she circled through the crowded ballroom toward her grandfather. She tried to smile cordially at Susan Ellendale who was standing next to him.
"Are you all right, dear?" the earl inquired with concern.
"Just tired," Starlin replied, wishing that she had found him alone.
"It has been a long evening," the earl replied.
"But such a lovely party," Lady Ellendale spoke up.
The earl turned to her. "Lady Ellendale, have you met my granddaughter, Lady Starlin Cambridge."
"Yes, I've had the pleasure," the woman responded stiffly. She arched a feathered brow at Starlin. "You are truly the belle of the ball, my dear. How thrilling to be so popular."
"The duchess and her husband are recent acquaintances of mine," the earl interceded smoothly. "She made it a point to come to your ball even though her husband was called away on business and she had to ask her cousin to escort her."
"How thoughtful," Starlin replied, her eyes meeting Lady Ellendale's. "Your cousin must be a dear."
"Yes," Lady Ellendale cooed sweetly, "and we were both most anxious to make your acquaintance. I've heard so much about you, and your lovely parties. I can't tell you what an eye-opening experience this has been."
"Thank you," Starlin said. "I hope you aren't disappointed."
"The ball... is everything that I thought it would be," Lady Ellendale returned, her smile fixed in place.
In the brief exchange, Starlin was certain she'd observed a glimmer of undisguised envy in the other woman's eyes. She glanced over at her grandfather and saw that he was frowning, obviously aware of the situation. She flashed him a warning glance, and then quickly noticing the furious look Lady Ellendale directed across the room, said, "Your cousin . .. you say?"
"I did," Lady Ellendale returned with narrowed eyes, becoming quite agitated as her gaze riveted upon the tall man before the refreshment table who was conversing with a young woman who appeared enraptured by everything about him. "He's ... such a disconcerting rogue, that one," she stammered, whisking open her fan and placing it before her terse lips.
The air fairly crackled with tension. Starlin was certain that Lord Morgan, standing with his back to them so aloofly at ease, was something more than Lady Ellendale's cousin.
"I'll have to mention to your husband the next time we meet at the club how nice it was to entertain members of his family in my home," the earl interceded, his voice revealing a hint of underlying mirth.
Starlin almost lost her trained composure. Her eyes-met her grandfather's. His were twinkling.
"Yes, well, a very distant cousin, to be exact," Lady Ellendale was quick to add. "On my family's side .. . one that the duke is not too familiar with ... nor do I refer to him very often." She fluttered her fan nervously. "Ah, he isn't very fond of Lord Morgan, you see, and if you were to mention it to him, Earl, he would be very upset with me for associating with the rascal."
"Morgan?" the earl pondered loudly. "Of course! The rogue who set all of London on its ear some years back."
Lady Ellendale looked as though she might swoon. "One and the same, I'm afraid." She felt Starlin's steady violet gaze upon her and cursed Morgan for having put her marriage in dire jeopardy with his roguish charm. If the truth about her relationship with Morgan ever became public knowledge, the duke would lock her away in her rooms and toss out the key! He chose to ignore her affairs as long as she kept them discreet.
It was precisely at that moment that Rayne Morgan swung about and chanced to glance over in Starlin's direction. Their eyes met, and held.
A shock ran down her body. Surely, Starlin thought, it had to have been sheer chance that had made him turn so suddenly and fix that fascinating gaze upon her.
His eyes, flecked with gold fire, sent a shiver of excitement along her spine. She knew now, beyond any doubt, why Lady Ellendale risked all just to be with him. She found herself completely captivated by that insouciant gaze. It revealed nothing, yet hinted of so much.
Seeing him like this, bathed in soft light, her eyes could not help but study his every feature. He had an absolutely captivating face. Sun-streaked curls fell in unruly disorder over one finely etched brow as he nodded his head in silent acknowledgment. She found herself recalling the fact that this was one man who knew no authority higher than his own. He survived by his own set of rules. What he did, he did because it suited him; what he wanted, he simply took.
She started when she saw he was coming toward her. He moved easily through the crowd . .. circling ... the confident predator stalking. Before she had time to draw a steady breath he was before her, taking her hand within his... and had he caressed her palm boldly before placing it to his lips? Slowly, and accompanied by a lazy smile, he released her hand.
"Lord Winfield, might I introduce .. . my cousin, Lord Rayne Morgan." Lady Ellendale's voice broke through Starlin's silent reverie.
Rayne's gaze took in the lovely woman before him. "It's been a memorable party, milady, although I regret that your legion of admirers kept you so occupied that we had no time in which to become better acquainted."
Starlin favored him with a searching look. "I have this feeling that you and I have met somewhere before. I could have sworn at first glance, that you were an acquaintance of mine that I had not seen for sometime." She thought he was undoubtedly a man quite used to female adoration, for he didn't so much as blink one dark eyelash as her gaze raked him insolently from head to toe. "But I see now that I was mistaken. The man I remember would never have possessed such fine manners."
Morgan's white teeth flashed in his deeply tanned face. "A barbarian, this man?"
"Yes, some might say so," Starlin replied with an enigmatic smile.
"And you, Lady Cambridge?' Morgan drawled slowly, "what do you say?"
The earl was entranced by their interplay. Gad! but they made a most striking couple. He was surprised at his distress upon hearing the duchess interrupt their exchange.
"I hate to spoil this charming evening, but I have just developed a beastly headache and simply must go home—immediately."
Rayne was not convinced by Susan's mournful expression. He forced himself to appear concerned. "I shall see you to the carriage, at once."
Lord Winfield had been pleased by the fiery sparks that had been exchanged between Morgan and his granddaughter. It was as if the two of them were all alone in the room and had had eyes only for each other. He knew the marquess was unmarried, and found himself wondering if perhaps he'd simply never found the right lady to complement his discriminating taste and strong nature. He found himself speculating, and almost chuckled. Then, noticing Lady Ellendale's expression, dismissed thought of such an unlikely match. "We'd best allow our guests to leave, Starlin. I can see Lady Ellendale is feeling poorly."
"Yes .. . and I am terribly sorry you must depart so earl
y," Starlin added, holding Morgan's unyielding gaze.
Lady Ellendale cleared her throat, trying to draw his attention away from the ravishing beauty. At last, he took hold of Susan's arm. She almost winced from the viselike grip of his fingers, but she kept her features perfectly schooled until they were safely out of the room and waiting for their wraps. She jerked when he snarled in fury.
"If you ever try that again, I swear I'll call your bluff right in front of everyone."
"Whatever do you mean?" she shot back in her most offended tone.
"You bloody well know what I mean . .. Cousin," he drawled cryptically. "Headache, is it?"
The back of her palm flew to her forehead. "Please, don't snarl like a bear, darling, I feel so wretched."
"I can imagine, with all of that jealousy eating at you."
She glanced about in nervous agitation. "Hush! do you want them all to hear, to know of our true relationship?"
His sharp laugh was instantaneous. "As if you could keep it from them."
"I think that after watching you with that girl just now, they'll be gossiping over your little scene, and wondering how soon you'll have her in your bed."
A searing burst of anger almost overwhelmed him. "Bloody hell, but you push me too far!" he growled, making her jump. He grabbed her cloak from the majordomo and threw it around her shoulders. "You can be a real shrew sometimes, Susan. You'd do well to remember that I don't owe you any explanations." He spun swiftly and walked away, leaving her staring miserably after him.
Susan could feel everyone's pitying gaze. Recovering her composure, she smiled weakly before their startled faces. Gad, but she had never seen Morgan look so formidable! She knew that he would never see her again. They were through. She almost thought of begging him .. . but after meeting Starlin Cambridge, Susan knew it was hopeless.