Price of Desire

by Lavinia Kent

  “And you think you should tell me this because . . .”

  “Well . . .” He stopped before entering the ballroom. “I want to be sure.”

  Rose stopped beside him, measuring the proper distance between them with her eyes.

  “You want to be sure of what?”

  “Of you.”

  “I am afraid I don’t take your meaning.” Did that sound as off putting as she felt?

  “In the circles that we move in appearances must be considered at all times. No matter how much I might stand to win, I know I would never consider . . .”

  “I believe that’s the part I don’t comprehend. What do my actions have to do with you?”

  They stood a good two feet apart, the light from the ballroom shining out at them.

  “That should be self evident.”

  “Evidently, it is not.”

  “My Lady Burberry, I decided we had reached an understanding. It seemed most fitting. A man of my standing and impeccable manners and woman of your . . .”

  “Fortune.”

  “I would of course never have put it so bluntly, but, yes. We seem a proper match and as such I believed we had reached an understanding.”

  “Was I to be informed of this understanding?”

  Sommerton took a step closer. Rose took one back.

  “I believed you would take it for granted. When we spoke the other night, the look in your eyes, I could see how much you admired me. The logical next step was clear.”

  “I am afraid my eyes must have been so clouded with admiration that I missed it.”

  “Yes, quite understandable. I should have considered the possibility.” She stepped back again, until her back pressed against the wall.

  “Yes, you should have. I do not want to disappoint you, Lord Sommerton, but I . . .”

  “There’s really no need for such maidenly airs.” He stepped forward until only inches remained between him and her trapped body. “You’ve been married. We can be plain with each other.”

  “But, I haven’t said that . . .”

  “There’s no need for words when I can see your desires in your eyes.”

  If he could see her thoughts and desires he’d be running in the other direction. Rose longed to give him one good shove. Being a lady was very trying on occasion and this was definitely one of those occasions.

  “Really, I must ask you to step back. I am afraid the heat is making me lightheaded.”

  “Oh come, my dear, we know it’s not the heat. Why not just admit to what springs between us.”

  He bent forward, pressing her further against the wall. She could see the gleam in his eye, feel his hot, sticky breath as he brought his mouth closer.

  “Please, Lord Sommerton, you must . . .”

  He fastened his lips to hers with suction that would have done a fish proud. She squirmed and wiggled, fought the urge to kick, and with a decided twist of her neck finally freed her mouth.

  “Always liked a feisty one. Glad you like to play, too.”

  “I believe you misunderstood me. I don’t believe that I, that we . . .”

  “Want to wait until after the ceremony do you?” He stepped back and gave her enough space to draw a breath.

  “Yes – that is, no, I never said that . . .”

  He moved closer and pressed hard against her until she could feel him, all of him. She squirmed with discomfort. His eyes were fastened on her bodice and she began to wonder if her breasts were festooned with jewels the amount of attention they were drawing this evening.

  “Surely, even if you want to wait, a little kiss and tickle won’t hurt?”

  He bent his head again, aiming far lower than her lips.

  Unable to take it anymore, she gave a decided shove and slipped to the side.

  For a brief moment he looked disconcerted, but then a bright smile spread across his face.

  “Oh, you are a treasure. Like to lead the chase do you? Just as long as you know who will finish it.”

  She should stay and make her intentions clear, but fearing another fish-kiss, she took a great gulp of air and with a silent ‘thank you’ she fled back towards the ballroom.

  “Must see to my guests.”

  “Of course, my dear, we’ll continue this later.”

  Not if she could run fast enough they wouldn’t. Maybe there would be some advantages to getting betrothed to Wulf that evening after all.

  Where the hell was she? He ducked out of the dance thinking he’d seen her on the terrace, but the only one there was Sommerton, sucking on a cheroot and looking all too pleased with himself.

  Wulf walked down the steps and into the darkness. Was she so determined to avoid him, to avoid their announcement? It made no sense. She had to be here somewhere. She was the hostess. The sooner they could get the deed accomplished the better. He would not relax until he knew she was his.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Where the hell was he? Rose had finally resolved to come in and get this over with and where was the blasted man? If she was going to smile sweetly and let him announce her future captivity the least he could do was present himself.

  Rose smiled sweetly at her guests as she fumed around the ballroom. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the white roses the staff had used to decorate. She forced herself to concentrate on the details: the fresh flowers, crisp linens, shined mirrors, hundreds of candles. Her staff really had outdone themselves. It was amazing how much had been accomplished without her detailed involvement.

  Everything ran just like clockwork – except that bloody, blasted man. How dare he force her to this position and then disappear.

  “May I get you a glass of lemonade or perhaps some Orgeat? You look a trifle overheated.” Mr. William’s placid voice interrupted her thoughts.

  She hoped she didn’t look as hot and bothered as she felt.

  She turned to Mr. Williams. “Lemonade would be fine, anything stronger and I fear my head would start spinning. I’d forgotten how much heat so many candles give off.”

  “Should I bring it to you here or should we take a turn in the garden?”

  Was every man here going to lure her outside or spring upon her there?

  “I see my sister by the stair. I’ll join her and you can find me there. I really must mingle with my guests.”

  “Of course. I’ll return in a moment.”

  Rose nodded and said a few words as she made her way across the room to Marguerite. Her sister stood in animated conversation with the marquess. Rose’s brows drew together. What did they have to talk about? She hoped Wimberly was not regaling her sister with the true state of affairs. Marguerite glanced up and met her eyes, a deep flush spread over her skin. Damn. Why would Marguerite blush if Wimberly wasn’t sharing secrets?

  She picked up her pace as much as decorum would allow. Wouldn’t it be just like Wulf to have friends that would share unsavory details with an innocent girl?

  As if sensing her thoughts, Wimberly kissed her sister’s glove and departed just before she could reach them.

  “What was that about?” Rose hoped her question didn’t sound as short tempered as she felt.

  “What about?” Marguerite turned her wide blue eyes on her sister.

  “Wimberly. He made you blush.”

  “Did he really? I think it must just be the heat of the room.”

  Rose might have believed her sister if she had not colored deeper with every word. Marguerite never had been able to lie.

  “Was he talking about me, my betrothal?”

  “Oh no.” That at least sounded like the truth. “He did express his joy at the situation. He seemed quite taken with the idea of Wulf forming an affection, almost as if he found it humorous, but not in an unpleasant way.”

  “I am still not clear why he was talking to you about it.”

  Again the deep blush.

  “Why shouldn’t he? I am your sister.”

  Why did Marguerite sound so defensive? Rose glanced back at
the ballroom. Lord Simon Clarington stood against the far wall gazing at them with hooded eyes. Ahh, maybe Marguerite was just flustered by his presence. She had seemed awfully taken earlier by the idea of romance.

  Rose smiled at her sister, indulgently.

  “Of course, you are, dearest. Have you seen Wulf? I thought he’d be here.”

  “That’s what has you on edge. You sounded a little sharp. He was speaking to Wimberley just before you arrived. I believe he went out into the garden looking for you. You’ve nothing to worry about.” Marguerite patted her hand.

  The clicking of heels across the floor heralded Mr. Williams’ approach and Rose turned eagerly to take the lemonade he offered. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her feelings towards Wulf in any detail.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Williams. I hope the wait was not too bad.”

  “Not at all. Everything is beautifully organized. I daresay the London hostesses could learn a lesson from you. I always appreciate organization.”

  Marguerite piped up. “Do forgive me, but I see somebody I must talk to.” She spun away from them and disappeared behind another group caught in heavy conversation. What was with the girl? She was heading in Lord Simon’s direction . . . she must be engaging in some harmless flirtation. It had better be harmless, Rose wasn’t sure she completely trusted Lord Simon with her sister.

  Rose craned her head to see where Marguerite had fled. Unfortunately, all she could make out across the room was Wimberly slipping out into the garden.

  He must be looking for Wulf. Maybe, they could get this blasted announcement over with.

  “. . . awfully hot in here . . . take some air.”

  Rose turned back to Mr. Williams, flustered. She’d been so busy watching for Marguerite that she’d missed what he was saying.

  “Oh dear, I am so sorry. My head is still spinning from all the planning putting this evening together. I am afraid I didn’t hear what you were saying.”

  “Oh.” Mr. Williams looked taken aback. “I was just suggesting, again, that we take a turn in the garden to escape the heat.”

  That would give her the chance to find Wulf and Wimberley and get this whole thing finished.

  “That would be lovely. Even this early in the year a packed room can be a trifle uncomfortable.” She placed her hand on his arm and let him lead her to the terrace doors. Just before they exited, she stopped in her tracks. “You’re not going to ask me to marry you, are you?”

  Mr. Williams looked as nonplussed by her words as she was. Where had that come from?

  He shuffled from foot to foot, trying to find words. “Well, no, Lady Burberry, I hadn’t planned on it, at least not tonight. Thought I’d wait a little and then see . . . must admit I’d had the thought. Seemed to make sense, but I like to approach these things with planning and care.”

  Having said his piece, he again proceeded on into the cool night air. Rose trailed along, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Her words had been foolish in the extreme, if somewhat provoked by the events of the evening. She was glad the darkness of the terrace hid her face.

  “You must forgive me, Mr. Williams. My question was quite rude.”

  “Don’t worry. I like straight speaking. It’s attracted me to you from the first. Where else am I to find a woman who can discuss slugs without a grimace? I bet you can even wax on over the horrors of blight and the best methods of drainage.”

  She smiled up at him. He truly was a most kindly gentleman. If circumstances had been different . . . but, they weren’t. She cast her gaze around the garden looking for Wulf or Wimberly. A flicker of gold caught her eye. She raised on tiptoe to peer down towards the rose trellis. It looked like Marguerite, but surely her sister wouldn’t be daring enough to come outside unaccompanied. Maybe she was showing the gardens to one of the vicar’s daughters.

  “. . . he came at her with a mighty thrust, his lance ripping through her skirts, forcing her to her knees.”

  What?

  She turned back to Mr. Williams. He eyed her with a twinkle.

  “I was just describing the play joust my young cousins put on this weekend. The nine-year-old ended up housebound for a week when he tore his youngest sister’s best dress.”

  “Oh, I thought . . .”

  “What did you think? You’re going to make me think I am the dullest of companions if I can’t even hold your attention with knights and jousting. I would have thought slugs and blight would have held you rapt.”

  Rose smiled at him, gifting him with her full attention. “You really are too kind, Mr. Williams. I have been a scandalously lax hostess this evening. I not only disappear from the ballroom on numerous occasions, I actually ignore my own guests when speaking to them. I don’t know what has come over me.”

  “Don’t worry. I am used to not being the center of attention. I happy for any crumbs you might care to throw.”

  She looked at him sharply.

  “You’re sure you’re not about to ask for my hand?”

  “Do you want me to? I’ve never known a woman to bring it up, not once but twice.”

  Rose sank onto one of the benches that lined the garden rail. “Yes, I am sure, just continually ill mannered.” She really needed to get her head together – now.

  “Because if you were interested in a proposal, well then –.”

  All too familiar honeyed tones cut him off. “Lady Burberry, are you going to spend any part of this evening in the ballroom? I know you’ve been in the country for years, but even a lowly soldier such as I . . .”

  Damn, blasted man. She looked for him all evening and now, when her foot had been firmly planted in her mouth, he appeared. She hadn’t even felt the heat of his presence as warning.

  “Were you looking for me, Major Huntington?”

  “We were scheduled for . . . discussion this evening.”

  “I am much aware of that fact. I actually came out looking for you.”

  “Did you? You wanted me?”

  How did every discussion between them end up here? “Yes, I wanted you. Doesn’t mean I should have you. I want many things that aren’t good for me.” It was too irresistible playing along. She let her gaze settle on the firm line where his cravat clung tight against his neck. Her tongue flicked across her lower lip.

  Mr. Williams coughed. His eyes darted from one to the other.

  “Perhaps, I should excuse myself, if you too need to have a . . . discussion.”

  “Yes,” Wulf’s voice was rife with demand.

  “No. There’s no need,” Rose cut in. “We can have our discussion later. You did say you wanted Wimberley to be part of it.”

  “I am sure it will take just a moment to find him.” Wulf moved closer, stepping between her and Mr. Williams. For a flash of a second his fingers trailed across the back of her neck where she knew her curls were escaping. She shivered. Then as if burned he drew his hand back, and eased back. “He’s probably inside. Have you been inside at all this evening, my lady? Attended your own affair? I thought you great ladies loved these things, lived for them. If I’d known you had a passion for gardens I am sure I, too, could have indulged you.”

  Wulf turned back to Mr. Williams, a startling flare in his eye. He looked upset to find her alone with the older man. Why was he reacting with such cold fury? It was more than the constant prickles that were always present between them. His stiff posture hinted at much more than their normal friction. It was almost as if he . . . no, that was ridiculous.

  “Yes, Major Huntington, I have been in this evening, and even in the gardens it is possible to talk with one’s guests. I have, in fact, had several most surprising conversations this evening.” She nodded at Mr. Williams. “I was, as you can see, in the midst of one now. A most pleasant one. Why don’t you find Wimberley and then we can have our discussion. It would be most improper for me to follow you traipsing through the gardens. I am sure Mr. Williams would be pleased to entertain me until you can return. Perhaps we may even go in and dan
ce. I am suddenly quite chilled.” She nodded at Mr. Williams, who did not look at all comfortable. “Is that a waltz I hear starting?”

  “Well, ah, yes.”

  “Splendid.” She stared at Williams until he stammered.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  “Why, yes, I believe I would.” Rose turned her very best smile on Wulf. “Now, Major Huntington, perhaps you should be off to find Wimberly.”

  Wulf glared back at her. If she’d been a lesser woman the marrow would have frozen in her bones. Instead, she just tilted her chin and placed her hand on Mr. Williams arm. It really was too bad of her to involve him like this.

  They turned and headed back into the ballroom. Wulf’s voice rumbled after them. “I’ll take a look for Wimberley, but if he’s not to be found, then I’ll have the discussion myself.” He stomped away.

  “Discussion himself?” Mr. Williams lifted a brow and looked at her. “I am clearly missing something of the conversation.”

  Rose pinched her lips shut and made no comment.

  “And you have no desire to enlighten me, so I’ll just offer my arm – although you are already holding it – and lead you around the room. At least I get the pleasure of the dance.”

  He would never understand women. She acted upset, mad, angry even. What bee was in her bonnet? He was the one making the sacrifice. She was getting everything a lady could want – money, title – his heart clenched at the thought, and respectable position. What did she have to be angry about? She hadn’t come upon him about to receive another proposal – if that had been what was happening. It had certainly appeared that way, her eyes soft and Williams looking ready to bend a knee.

  It was good he’d come on then when he had. Oh, she’d glared at his words. He pursed his lips. Her eyes certainly did flash when she was in a mood. And that lower lip, the way it stuck out when she lifted her chin.

  His footsteps crashed along the path. He would find Wimberly and then . . . then they’d get this whole thing on the way. Tomorrow he’d get the license and then she would be his. He’d didn’t let his thoughts ponder which she he was thinking about – mother or daughter. He just knew he would not rest until it was accomplished. Only the drive towards the marriage held his other demons at bay, kept him from picturing the small boy he’d never met.