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Elusive Hope

Page 14

by Marylu Tyndall


  “For a new gown.”

  Regardless of how nonsensical his answer was, how ludicrous the notion, she yelped her “Yes” and then dashed through dressing. Aside from a few moans, groans, and unladylike curses at the difficulty of putting her clothing on without her lady’s maid, she managed to don her least filthy blouse and skirts and pin up her damp hair as best she could. By the time she opened the door, Hayden was leaning his head against the post, pretending to be asleep.

  Pretending, she knew, because he usually didn’t wear a playful smirk in his sleep.

  “Oh, mercy me.” She slapped him with her fan. “I didn’t take that long.”

  He opened one eye, one devilishly green eye, and grinned, sending a thrill through her.

  “You tease me, sir. But you have no idea of the complexity of a lady’s attire. Without my maid, I must tighten my corset behind me and then tie on my crinolette…”—he was still grinning. Rather mischievously, in fact—“Well, never mind. Let’s just say there are far too many things a lady must put on.”

  His brow cocked. “You need not wear them all on my account.”

  Heat sped up her back. “You are indeed a toad, Hayden. And why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead he gestured toward her valise sitting on the floor. “We will need your money.”

  “My money?” Magnolia snapped. “But I don’t know if I have enough. I mean…”—she fumbled with her fan—“For the ticket, of course, and then to pay you as well.”

  “Then we’ll take it out of my share.”

  This confused her further. Surely a man who would only escort and protect a lady for a fee wouldn’t so willingly purchase her a gown. Besides, unbeknownst to him, it would still come out of her money.

  Magnolia bit her lip and looked down at her stained skirts and the tattered fringe drooping from the hem. She supposed she did have enough for traveling and a new gown. Besides, she couldn’t very well allow Samuel to see her in these rags. He might mistake her for a street urchin and send her away!

  “Very well.” She plucked her purse from inside her valise and met him in the hall. “What is the gown for?”

  “For tonight, Princess.” He extended his arm. “We are going to a ball.”

  The oddest thing happened to Hayden. He actually enjoyed shopping with Magnolia. It was odd for a number of reasons. One, he had about as much interest in women’s clothing and fripperies as—to use her analogy—a toad had for fine literature. Two, her spoiled coquettish ways normally caused his blood to boil. Yet today, strolling about Rio, seeing the way her eyes lit up at all the fanciful items being sold at market, watching her caress the silk scarves from India, bite into a fresh mango till juice slid down her chin, giggle at the colorful parrots and chattering monkeys hopping along the roofs, and successfully haggle with a woman for a beaded bracelet, Hayden found himself utterly enamored. She may be spoiled and a bit self-centered, but she was the epitome of femininity. All lace and fluff and softness.

  She seemed to grow more beautiful with each passing moment. Her sun-kissed hair, dried by the gentle breeze, dangled from her chignon in golden ringlets. Roses blossomed on her cheeks. Even the sheen of perspiration on her face and neck made her glow like an angel. Hayden swallowed and tried to avoid staring at her as they turned down Ruo do Ouvidor and found a drapers as fine as any in Charleston. Bolts of taffeta, calicos, and gingham filled the room that smelled of French perfume and musty cloth. Neither the language nor monetary differences impeded Magnolia from bartering for a ready-made blue gown that hung in the back. Apparently a return from an unhappy customer who thought the needlework subpar.

  So, with wrapped gown flung over her arm, Hayden escorted her back to the hotel with a promise to return after sunset. Of course he had nothing to wear himself besides the disheveled, torn suit he had on. But finding something suitable had never been a problem before.

  So, it was with a jump in his step that he returned to fetch Magnolia promptly at 8:00 p.m. He attributed his exuberant mood to his upcoming chat with Mr. Eduardo Santos and the possibility of discovering the whereabouts of his father. Hayden was tired of chasing the man all over the world, putting his own hopes and dreams on hold. Once justice was served, Hayden could get on with his life, perhaps learn a trade, become a sailor, or help out in his friend’s furniture shop in Savannah.

  Entering the hotel, he tipped his hat at an attractive lady in the lobby and mounted the steps. He might even get married, have children. His conscience rose to chastise him for the ridiculous notion. No decent woman would marry a confidence man—a swindler who had ruined so many lives.

  Magnolia opened the door to his knock and widened her eyes when she saw his gray cotton suit with black velvet trim and double-breasted cutaway coat. “Where on earth did you get that?”

  No decent woman would marry a thief, either.

  But that thought quickly dissipated at the sight of her. Her flaxen hair, adorned with sparkling beads, was swept back in a bun from which golden swirls fell across her neck. The shimmering blue of her gown only enhanced the color of her eyes. Ruffles bubbled like foam from her bell-shaped sleeves, while the lace embellishing her low neckline drew his unbridled gaze. He gulped and prayed for a breeze to drift down the hall and cool the heat swirling in his belly. The victorious sparkle of delight in her eyes told him she’d noticed his approval. But then she was accustomed to men fawning over her, wasn’t she?

  “So?” She tapped him with her fan as her eyes took him in. “How did you purchase such a fine suit?” Now it was his turn to be delighted for he could see the appreciation in her eyes as she scanned him from head to toe.

  “I borrowed it.” He winked and offered his elbow. Giving him a suspicious look, she gripped it and allowed him to lead her down the streets of Rio. With every step they took, every street corner they turned, they drew appreciative glances. Hayden’s shoulders rose a bit higher, and for the first time he no longer felt like a thief and a rogue. For the first time in his life, with Magnolia on his arm, he felt like a gentleman. Not just pretending to be one. But a real gentleman. Strangely, it made him want to become one.

  That illusion, however, slipped away once they reached the estate of Adelino Manuel Guerra da Costa. Though music and laughter spilled from the windows of the palatial two-story home onto the manicured lawn, sprinkled with flowering bushes and majestic palms, Hayden was forced to tug Magnolia to the side and head down the fenced outskirts of the property like the uninvited guests they were. She glanced back at the open front doors and the guests being greeted by their host and hostess and gave an adorable little chirp signifying her dismay.

  “Where are you taking me?” Her voice turned shrewish.

  Ignoring her, Hayden peered into the darkness, finally finding what he sought. “We can slip in through here.” He gestured toward a broken spoke in the fence that created a two-foot gap.

  “I thought you said we were invited.”

  “I said we were attending. I said nothing about being invited.”

  “Well, I shan’t sneak in the back like common riffraff.” Clutching her skirts, she flounced away.

  Silently growling, Hayden caught up to her and spun her around. “There’s no other way. Either we go in through here or we don’t attend at all.”

  “Then we don’t attend. Barging into parties uninvited is for uncultured plebeians, not someone of my station.” She turned to leave.

  He wouldn’t release her arm. “Then I won’t help you book passage tomorrow.”

  He couldn’t quite make out her expression in the darkness but he was pretty sure she bared her teeth like a tigress. “Who says I need your help?”

  Hayden ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, Princess. There’s someone at that party I need to speak with. It’s quite possible the information he has will lead me back to the States. In which case, I can give you a proper escort all the way home.” He felt her relax. He released his grip on her arm. Zooks,
but it felt good to speak the truth. For once.

  “This man…he can help you find what you’re looking for?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then go speak to him. I’ll wait here.”

  Hayden sighed, hating his next words. “I need you with me.”

  “How can I possibly assist?”

  “This man is a scoundrel of the worst kind. He refuses to give away any information unless his pockets are lined. And believe me, even with the money you are paying me, I won’t have enough. But he’s soft on the ladies and—”

  “So you’re using me,” she snapped. “It’s why you bought me this gown, asked me to the ball. You planned this all along. In addition to taking my money.” Her voice stung with pain.

  Guilt sat heavy on his shoulders. She was right, of course. But he couldn’t let his feelings for her or his own shame dissuade him from his mission. He forced desperation and remorse from his tone and replaced it with silky charm. “After all we’ve been through, would you please do me this one small favor?”

  “All we’ve been through? You mean all you’ve put me through!”

  Zooks, the woman aggravated him! Hayden clamped his jaw until it hurt. Music floated atop the scent of savory spices, giving him a grand idea. “There will be good food and plenty of spirits inside.” Totally unfair of him to mention the alcohol, of course.

  But it did the trick. He sensed her weakening.

  She stepped away from him. “Very well.” But her tone carried none of joy it had held just minutes before.

  Hayden hated being the one who’d swept it away.

  However, her blasted hoops wouldn’t fit through the fence opening. His suggestion for her to remove them didn’t fair too well. In fact, they unleashed a series of gasps and “I never” and “How dare you?” until finally she settled with a childish pout and a firm chin, demanding they leave at once.

  Desperate, Hayden searched the area, found a stack of bricks, and formed a step for her to stand on. Then squeezing through the opening in the fence, he dragged over an old wooden bucket, leapt on top, and reached his arms above the railing. “Step on the bricks, and I’ll grab your waist and hoist you over.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am quite serious. Come now, it will be an adventure. Something to laugh about in years to come.”

  She said nothing.

  “Nothing to fear—I’m right here.” He moved his hands above the fence for her to see. “I’ll catch you.”

  “You are a toad, you know.”

  “As you have informed me.”

  Her skirts swished. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she grumbled. “And as a favor to you!”

  Their hands locked and Hayden hoisted himself onto the top of the fence. “Grab onto my neck.” She did. It felt good. He found her waist. Straining, he lifted her to sit beside him. Thankfully the top of the fence was at least a foot wide. Still, she teetered. He jumped down to the bucket then turned to place his hands firmly on her hips. “Now, swing your legs over.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “For the love of…” he ground out. “Very well.” Lace and silk swished. The bucket beneath him wobbled. He grew dizzy…lost his bearings. He opened his eyes to a heeled boot slamming his chest. Groaning, he tightened his grip on her waist. The bucket teetered. Hayden lost his balance. The world spun and he toppled backward to the ground, dragging Magnolia on top of him. The air fled his lungs with a mighty squish. Neither said anything. The hem of her skirt circled her shoulders as her sweet breath puffed over his face. Her warm curves molded against him. Her lips were but inches from his.

  And he did the only thing he thought to do.

  He kissed her.

  CHAPTER 15

  The kiss sent a sultry ripple through Magnolia, ushering out her anger and embarrassment and inviting in an ecstasy she’d never known existed. She knew her gown had flown up around her face, could feel the braided hem of her skirts on her cheek. But lying atop Hayden’s warm, steel-like body, she found she didn’t care. Nothing mattered but the touch of his lips, the thrill spiraling through her. The way he cupped her head in his hands and drank her in as if he were a man deprived of drink for decades. Until a small flicker of reason invaded the pleasurable fog in her mind—a tiny shred of reason that forced her to remember who she was and what she was doing. And how another man, equally as charming as Hayden, had torn her heart in two.

  She shoved from his chest. “Get off of me!”

  “I believe it is you who are on me, Princess.”

  “Oooh!” Realizing in a flush of heat that she still straddled him, she flipped back her skirts then vaulted onto the grass. Crinoline flailing, she attempted to rise amid a flurry of unladylike grunts. Finally, rolling onto her hands and knees, she managed to stand. “How dare you take advantage of me—yet again!”

  “If you hadn’t forced me to close my eyes, I wouldn’t have lost my balance.” Hayden leapt to his feet, his voice raspy with desire. He turned his back to her as if trying to collect himself.

  “It’s a simple task to stand steady on a”—she glanced at the overturned pail—“bucket. I should have known not to trust you. Now, look what you’ve done to my new gown.” She swatted The twigs and grass from her skirts. “Could you not have allowed it to remain unstained for one evening?” An evening, that if she admitted, she’d been rather excited about. Hopeful, even, that beneath Hayden’s rugged, raffish exterior, he was an honorable man, a man who might actually care for…oh what did it matter? He’d not invited her to a ball because he enjoyed her company or because he wanted to become better acquainted with her or treat her like a lady. No, He’d simply been using her. For her beauty. Like her father. Like everyone else.

  Finally, he swung about and brushed grass from his coat. “Perhaps it was being so near to you that made me dizzy.” Despite being unable to see his face in the shadows, she sensed a smile. He held out his hand. “Now, if you’re quite done yammering, shall we go enjoy the party?”

  Yam… Magnolia knew the daggers in her eyes were lost to him in the darkness, but it felt good to fire them at him anyway. “So much for the toad ever becoming a prince.”

  “Ah, but the evening is still young.”

  Though he tried to hide behind sarcasm, passion still dripped like dark molasses from his voice. And if Magnolia were honest, it tingled through her as well. But she no longer wanted to attend the ball. She didn’t want to be used. She wanted to be loved. Wanted to be special. She wanted to have value beyond her appearance. Her vision grew hazy as tears filled her eyes.

  Oh my, but she could use a drink!

  Which was the only reason she now followed the rogue through the back entrance, past the kitchen, and into the warming room, where he waved off the servants’ curious gazes with the excuse of getting lost.

  The sound of an orchestra and the hum of chatter and laughter bubbled over Magnolia as Hayden led her upstairs to the main ballroom, where they joined the glittering throng. Dipping his head in greeting, he smiled at everyone as if He’d known them all his life. Most smiled in return, mainly the ladies, whose appreciative gazes drank him in as if they were parched and he were an oasis. Yet, not a single suspicious brow rose as they wove through the crowd. the ease with which this ruffian slipped into the role of an aristocrat astonished Magnolia. From the stretch of his shoulders, the lift of his chin, and the swaggering confidence with which he strode through the room, people no doubt guessed he was a gentleman born and bred into luxury and privilege, not an orphan who grew up without benefit of home, food, and education. In fact, she’d met sons of earls who held themselves with less dignity. Strangely, the thought unsettled her.

  He led her to a table laden with delicacies she could not name, an ivory-colored pudding, a bowl of creamy paste with a cocoa nut on top, and other assorted cakes. But it was the vinho virgem—French red wine—that drew her gaze. Hayden poured a glass and handed it to her. The sweet yet pungent taste lingered on he
r tongue and sped a heavenly trail down her throat. Ah sweet, sweet nectar! But when she raised her gaze to Hayden’s devilish wink, she couldn’t be sure if it was the wine or the way he looked at her that caused her blood to suddenly heat.

  Clearing her throat, she glanced up at sputtering chandeliers that dappled light upon a fresco of orchids and ferns painted on the tall ceilings. Below, framing the room, high-backed chairs stood alongside gilded card tables while great oval mirrors with tawdry decorations hung on the wall. Young mulatto boys, dressed all in white, wove barefooted through the crowd, hoisting trays of drinks and cakes.

  She took another sip while Hayden fetched his own drink and then led her through the maze of ladies and gentleman, their skin in every shade from dark as night to snowy white, all decked in silks and brocades as colorful as spring flowers in an open field. Magnolia could not keep from staring. She’d never seen a Negress wearing a gown that could be found in a ballroom in Paris, nor speaking with the confidence and education of any genteel woman back home. Men, bearing the blended features of both Europeans and Africans, sauntered through the crowd, women on each arm while their wives stood in corners, ignored. Even the priests partook of drink and engaged in playful dalliances.

  In the center of the room, couples spun and bobbed as they floated across the floor like lilies on a pond. Portuguese thickened the air as the scent of orange blossoms and salt swept in through open windows, masking the miasma of perfume and alcohol.

  Despite her sore legs and blistered feet, Magnolia found herself swaying to the music, wishing more than anything that Hayden would sweep her onto the dance floor and she could spend one night—just one night—forgetting that she was all alone in the world without a penny to her name and without anything to offer but her beauty.

  But instead, the toad popped a sweet cake into his mouth and gestured with his drink to a man on the other side of the room.

  “There he is. Mr. Eduardo Santos. The petulant squab speaking with the tall gentleman in the blue suit.”

 

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