Mrs. Halloway laughed. “You are lucky you only received a well-deserved threat. Had Antonio seen you, it could have been worse. What on earth would prompt you to behave so outrageously?”
“Well, as I stated, she was bending forward, tending her feet,” he replied, his words slower, giving them more meaning this time.
Mrs. Halloway’s eyes went to Amy’s neck line for a moment and back to him.
He wore the look of a good man wronged.
“I see. Well, thank you for your intervention.” She breathed in. “My, am I thirsty. Chavier, would you bring us something to drink?” Once he left, she sat beside Amy and spoke softly. “You cannot bend over in your gown. The bodice is a bit loose and more is revealed than is proper.”
Amy blushed as she thought of the great deal of time Chavier Jones had knelt before her, no doubt, staring at her exposed breasts while he massaged her feet. A great sensation of heat formed below her stomach.
“Do not make yourself upset. Just try to be more careful in the future.”
Chavier returned with Catherine in tow. Amy could tell from Catherine’s flushed face that something other than securing punch had happened.
“The punch bowls are surrounded by a mob. I had to plow my way through, throwing elbows left and right, declaring it a matter of life and death, for the Mrs. Halloway was about to expire from thirst. In the midst of this fierce battle to the punch bowl, I stumbled upon Miss Catherine, crushed in the mob. I secured her in my wake and continued my mission.”
“And clearly mortified her with embarrassment in the process.” Mrs. Halloway caressed Catherine’s cheek with affection. “Hopefully, you did not actually declare I was the inspiration for your bad manners and impatience.”
Chavier breathed out in annoyance as he distributed the punches. “Here I spent the entire evening saving ladies in distress, and all I have received for my effort is threats and insults. Makes me deuced sorry I even came tonight.”
Mrs. Halloway laughed and kissed his cheek. “Nonsense, I have never seen you happier.”
***
Domnika returned from the dance and shared Amy’s drink. Mrs. Halloway had barely finished introduction to Chavier before young gentlemen came for each of the ladies. It was not until Amy had left that Mrs. Halloway noticed her battered shoes remained behind.
Locating Amy in the crowded dance floor, they saw she was in serious danger of being crippled. Chavier set off on his third rescue of the evening.
***
As poorly as satin shoes had protected her feet, she sorely missed them. This left-footed clutz had already stepped upon her toes twice, and the dance had barely begun.
Chavier Jones interrupted their dance. “In a matter of national security, I must intercede and takeover this dance.”
The young man gave way instantly.
Taking her in his arms, Chavier smiled. “Now, we will see if you cause me half so much trouble as you have the younger gentlemen.”
“Me? Then you believe it is my fault they cannot dance?”
“Without question. It is either your eyes that baffle their minds or you are, in fact, trying to lead as your friend suggested. Shall we determine which?”
“I am not leading,” Amy assured him as they joined the waltz.
“I am not so certain about that. I’m sensing a certain anticipation of my moves. At your girl’s school, did you often play the gentleman’s role?”
“I was the tallest girl there. But I am not leading.”
He smiled. “Only a bit. If you will relax and trust me, we can rid you of that.” He then pulled her closer to him.
The touch of his body to hers instantly melted her resistance and she became his to lead where he might. “Now you are perfection itself.”
His words stirred her emotions. She now thought him incredibly handsome and charming. Trying to fight her growing affection towards him, she verbally attacked him. “National Security indeed! That was an absurd reason to interrupt my dance. You, sir, are a bully.”
“I am accustomed to having my way,” he admitted. “But are you really sorry that I interceded? I see the young man sulking in the corner. I could invite him back if you insist.”
“No.” Her fingers tightened on his shoulder.
He laughed softly. “You are about to make me misstep.”
“I am not leading.”
“No, you are intoxicatingly pliant.”
He then turned the topic to her life with Uncle John. It was apparent by his questions about Gunter and the Silent Three that he already knew everything about her life. Feeling at a disadvantage, she demanded to know something about him.
“Well, I am forty-seven years of age, was married, but now widowed for the last six years, a fairly good, if not somewhat rusty dancer, adept at cards, a good equestrian, a fine marksman, above average intelligence, and good to my word when I give it.”
“But what do you do?”
He smiled at her. “It is not considered gentlemanly to ‘do’ anything other than the things I mentioned.”
“Then you do nothing—except for what you mentioned?” She tried to hide her disappointment, but her dismay managed to sneak out all the same.
“I am the Minister of Foreign Affairs.”
“And what does a minister of foreign affairs do, exactly? I understand the position reports to the First Minister and has responsibility for ensuring our relationships with foreign countries, but that is all I know. I have no idea what you actually do.”
He laughed. “Well, you know more about what I do than all but a handful at this ball. I will be glad to explain the details when I come to claim my time for intelligent conversation.”
She was about to reply he should tell her now for he could only presume he would be her choice for intelligent conversation, but the glib remark would not leave her tongue and then the dance ended. He escorted her to her group where she donned her shoes before anyone noticed her faux pas.
Her next dance was with Darby McAllister and she was impressed he had even claimed his dance after the rocky start at the first of the ball. She sighed when she realized that it was yet another waltz. However, when he pulled her into his arms, she ceased to complain. His touch was warm and comforting. Her body did not react so violently as it had to Chavier Jones. This was only a mild pleasant sensation which she felt was safe to enjoy.
“This dance is going very well,” Darby declared.
“You sound surprised,” she teased.
“Well, I am. I thought myself in for a rough go of it.”
“You mean because none of my other partners could resist stomping on my feet?”
“Exactly. When Jeff danced so badly I felt bad for him, but when Scott and Albert, and then Thomas and Seth all fell upon the sword as well, I had to conclude that you purposely did something to make them trip, for none of them could explain why they suddenly forgot how to dance. Then Tony declared you were leading and that was what had thrown him off, and suddenly all decided that was what caused them to fail as well.”
“I was not leading, but by the time I danced with Tony, I was trying to anticipate his moves, so my feet would not be crushed again.”
“Well, it didn’t seem to be working. In fact, he seemed to struggle the most. Thank God, old Mr. Jones came to his rescue.”
Amy was about to remark Chavier had come to her rescue and he was decidedly not ‘old’, but concluded it was wiser to hold her tongue. “I must say, you were very brave to collect your dance under such dire probabilities of humiliation.”
“I’ve never been known for cowardice and am certainly willing to endure a great deal of humiliation if, in the end, I can have the lady of my heart.”
Amy gave him a sad smile. “It is almost certain I am not that lady.”
“Well, that is what I must find out.”
“But I do not fit the qualifications.”
He pulled her a bit closer to him. “Perhaps I have been searching with the wrong criteria, w
hich is why I have looked for so many years and still not found her. From the moment I saw you, my heart quickened, which gives me hope you are indeed the lady of my heart.”
“And when you find this lady of your heart, what will you do if she is poor and without a dowry? What if she is not at all what you think a lady should be? Will you return to your prior criteria and ignore your heart? Are you even in a position to marry your heart’s choice?” Amy challenged.
“So that is why you resist me. You’ve heard of my reputation and think I break young ladies’ hearts for sport. Now, I understand the reason you so quickly put me down earlier. You think I court you only for another count on my belt. As humiliating as your put down was to me, it is nothing to the insult you interpreted from my compliments.”
They had stopped dancing, but he still held her in his arms. Fearing, he would break away and leave her any moment, she tightened her grip on his hand. “I had not meant to humiliate you when I laughed. Nor was I insulted by your words. I laughed because I was tickled at how sadly they missed the mark.”
He stared at her for a moment and then noticed they were causing problems for the other dancers. He pulled her from the dance floor and headed to the French doors that led to the garden.
“I’m not in need of air.”
“No, but we are in need of somewhere we can talk.” Pulling her through the French door onto the porch, he stopped when he noticed her face.
“You think I’ve brought you out here to ravish and ruin you.” His handsome face betrayed both anger and hurt.
“No!” She reached up and touched his cheek, wishing she could will his hurt away. “It’s just that I promised Mrs. Halloway that I would not go into the gardens.”
He opened his mouth to object and then stopped. “Of course. I had forgotten what happened last season. May we talk here then? On this porch? It’s not terribly private and will prevent me from saying much that I wish, but under the circumstances it is the best we can do.”
“Very well,” she said “But when the dance is over, I need to return, or Mrs. Halloway will worry.
He took her hand and pulled her to the furthest corner. He did not release her hand. Instead, he caressed it with both his own. Again, she felt warmth and comfort from his touch but nothing to alarm her.
“To your excellent question as to whether I am in a position to marry my heart’s desire when I find her, the answer is yes. I have no need of titles, monies, or connections. I am one of the fortunate few who can marry whomever I please. I do not even have parents to challenge my choice of wife, for I lost them five years ago.” He stared out at the garden.
Amy could see his eyes were shining with unspent tears. While he had stated his loss of parents as a good thing, she could tell his heart thought very differently. She touched his arm. “I am so sorry. I never knew either of my parents, but I loved my Uncle John as I would have a father and I understand the loss you feel. I also know that you would gladly accepted any interference they might have in your selections of a wife, if they only still lived.”
He cried out as if her words had wounded him and suddenly leapt over the edge of the concrete wall that bordered the porch and crashed down upon the shrubbery.
Amy hung over the stone banister. “Mr. Darby, are you hurt?”
He pushed himself up and disappeared into the evergreen maze.
Locating the steps, she followed after him. As she entered the maze she called his name, but he did not answer. It was only using her tracking sense that she found him. He sat on a concrete bench, his head between his legs silently crying.
She sat down beside him and placed a hand upon his back.
“Go away!”
She ignored him as she soothed his aching loneliness. His misery almost overwhelmed her. She had misspoken when she said she understood how he felt. Her loss had been nothing like this. The only way her loss would have equaled his is if she had truly lost her uncle, Gunter and the Silent Three all at once. Even the thought of such a pain made her cry as well.
He wrapped her in his arms and covered her face with soft kisses. “Hush, now. Why are you crying?”
She stopped her tears, for in truth she had no reason. “I was crying for you in a rather grand display of commiseration.” She laughed at herself to make light of the absurdity of the situation.
He stared at her in amazement and then pulled her tight against him. “Everyone said I had to be strong, that people would expect nothing less. I’ve never shed a single tear until now.” He set her back, so he could look her in the face.
“I pretended I didn’t care. I tried to convince myself it was a good thing that I no longer had parents to meddle in my business. I could do any damn thing I wanted. And unlike my friends who indulged in vices to prove to themselves they were men not boys, I had no need to break away from the nest, since mine was empty but for me. So instead of indulging in excessive gambling and drink, I took control of the estates and sat with financiers to better understand my investments. In less than a week, I went from a carefree young man of twenty to the Lord of Evonshire, with over a thousand lives now in my hands. And while I struggled at first to learn so much, so quickly, I have done well, I think. I have even on occasion stated it was good my parents died, for look how well the estate has prospered in my hands.”
She reached out and touched his face in sympathy and understanding.
“Then your words touched my heart and the truth I denied overwhelmed me. I am sorry I abandoned you on the porch, but I did not want to make a spectacle of myself in public.”
“I know.” She gently brushed back his wavy light brown hair tumbling into his eyes.
Before she knew what he intended to do, his lips gently lowered onto hers. The gesture was pure sweetness and she could not refuse it, not after the pain and sorrow she had just shared with him. When he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, she gave but the gentlest of resistance and to her surprise, he released her at once.
He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I promised not to take you into the garden and now… My word is usually better than this.”
“You did not break your word, since you did not take me here. I came on my own free will.”
His hand caressed her cheek while he studied her face as if it were some great mystery. He looked as if he were about to kiss her again when loud whacking noises erupted from the other side of the hedge.
Darby placed her in the darkest corner before he went to investigate.
He found the source of the whacking on the other side of the opening. “Good Lord, man. What do you think you’re about?”
“Just trimming the hedges, a bit,” the gruff hard voice of Gunter replied.
Amy ran to the opening to ensure Darby was not permanently harmed with Gunter’s cutting of the hedges. She tried to throw herself in front of Darby, but Darby was just as determined to keep her safely behind him.
Gunter gave her a hard look. “Ain’t no place for a young lady to be out here in the dark.”
“Well, it’s no place for a gardener to be as well!” Darby scolded him. “You’ve frightened her half to death.”
“Good, then maybe she won’t be coming into my garden anymore,” he growled.
“We should get back to the dance now.” Amy pulled him away from her angry protector. Darby had spoken the truth when he declared himself no coward. Not only had he stood up to Gunter, but she had to pull his arm with all her might to get him to give up the battle and run.
When they reached the steps of the porch, he pulled her into his arms. “Take a deep breath and calm yourself. You can’t return looking flustered and out of breath or your reputation will be harmed.” When she nodded in agreement, he released her from his arms and led her onto the porch. Placing her by the light from the door, he stood a respectable two feet away. “Who was supposed to have been your dance partner this half hour?”
She was about to explain she had no partner except for Mr. Drink Punch, when a voice spoke from the da
rkest shadow of the porch. “That would be me,” Chavier Jones said.
Darby started at his presence and then straightened to his full height. “I would like to assure you that appearances are not always what they seem…”
Chavier stepped closer, like a panther stalking its prey. “I am most aware of that.”
“And that any implications that might be inferred from seeing Miss Amy and I return from the garden in rather a hasty fashion would not be accurate of the truth. Miss Amy is a very fine lady and nothing improper occurred.”
Chavier Jones stared at him for several silent minutes. “I am very aware that Miss Winston is a fine lady, and I’ve no doubt she remains so. However, I must tell you that your adamant denial creates more suspicion than assurance. Perhaps you should give Miss Winston wide berth in the future.”
Amy could see Darby wasn’t going to back down from Chavier anymore than he did Gunter. However, if she had surmised correctly about what Chavier Jones did for a living, then this man might very well do more than castrate the poor fellow.
She stepped forward. “Mr. Jones, I applaud your immediate assumption of my innocence, it is both gratifying and appreciated, but your warning to Mr. McAllister implies his actions in the garden were less than admirable, which is not the case. I must insist you retract your warning.”
He said nothing as he continued to stare down Darby.
She placed her hand on the panther’s tight muscular arm. “Mr. Jones, Chavier, I like this young man, and I do not appreciate you trying to frighten him off.” When he continued to ignore her, she placed her other hand on his arm as well. “He is the only gentleman, besides yourself, who does not crush my toes. I beg you, please do not order him away.”
Chavier sighed and looked down at her. “It doesn’t look as if I can frighten him off.”
“The gardener couldn’t either. Surely such courage is in his favor? And he did worry about my reputation.”
Love's Betrayals (The Extraordinary Life of Amy Winston Book 2) Page 23