All the time Rob was conscious of the contessa on Charles’s arm, moving from group to group as introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged. Every male eye followed her progress as they moved on. Rob was filled with the most violent jealousy when he observed the lustful expressions her presence engendered in most of them, the covert looks they shared when their ladies weren’t paying them attention. It was a new experience for Rob, and a damnably inconvenient one at that. He had to overcome his attraction towards the woman, which meant jealousy had no part in the scheme of things. She was here to cause problems for English interests in her Sicilian homeland, he had something she needed, and he couldn’t afford to relax his guard while in her presence.
Finally Charles directed her towards Rob’s group. One glance at her and he forgot all about affairs of state. Rob’s interest was now fixed on an affair of a very different nature. He mentally upbraided himself for being such a dunderhead but despite the warning bells that clanged inside his head, there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to temper his raging desire for the Sicilian widow.
“The contessa has a strange idea of fashion,” one of the ladies surrounding him said to her fellow in a conspiratorial whisper.
“I’d be ashamed to be seen in something so unfashionable,” the other agreed, turning up a rather long nose contemptuously.
The ladies’ spiteful comments confirmed what Rob already knew. The contessa was a sophisticated beauty and therefore viewed as a threat by others of her sex before they’d even been introduced.
“What do you think, Lord Robert?”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Hacker, I didn’t hear what you said.”
Before the girl could repeat herself, Charles was before him. So too was Electra Falzone. As Rob waited for Charles to make the introduction, he trained his eyes on her features and held her gaze for a protracted moment. Her unusual eyes opened wide and he thought he observed a modicum of anxiety pass through her expression. Despite her traitorous ways, Rob was filled with the desire to reassure her, but said nothing. Indeed, he couldn’t speak until Charles introduced them. And he was taking his own sweet time about doing so, damn him, casting Rob amused sideways glances as he made him wait.
“Contessa, may I make my good friend Lord Robert Forster known to you?” Charles finally asked. “Rob, I have the honour of introducing the Contessa Falzone.”
Rob bowed and took her hand to raise her from a curtsey that was perhaps deeper than it should have been. He didn’t doubt that the view he received of her décolletage was deliberate, obliging him to quell a triumphant grin. She was desperate to buy his silence by whatever means necessary. He swirled his tongue over the back of her thin glove, mimicking the manner in which it had invaded her mouth just the night before. His gaze remained fastened to her features, keen to gauge her reaction. But she was obviously a proficient game-player, and apart from a slight heightening in her colour she appeared perfectly composed.
He silently conceded that she’d won the opening salvo but wondered if, like him, she could sense the expectancy in the atmosphere. Did she also feel as though the air had been sucked out of the crowded room and the only people in it were the two of them?
“Contessa,” he said with a lazy smile, releasing her hand when he could no longer avoid doing so. “Your reputation precedes you and I have looked forward to making your acquaintance.”
“And you, Lord Robert. I have heard much of your prowess at the chessboard. I shall enjoy pitting my wits against yours.”
He held her gaze. “You ought to be aware that I play to win.”
“So, too, do I,” she said in the soft, melodic tone that had haunted his dreams. “I don’t ask for allowances to be made simply because I’m a member of the weaker sex playing what some consider still a man’s game.”
“I wouldn’t insult you by giving an inch.”
“You play for high stakes, my lord?”
“I already told you, I play to win.” He drilled her with a look, causing her lovely eyes to flare with heightened awareness. “It doesn’t matter what prize is on offer.”
“Then this should prove to be an interesting time.”
“I live in expectation,” he responded, chess the furthest thing from his mind.
“You’ll have to excuse us, Rob,” Charles said, shooting him more inquisitive looks. “There are others anxious to make the contessa’s acquaintance.”
“By all means.”
He watched them walk away, wondering quite what he’d got himself into. Indulging in battles of words with the lovely contessa probably wasn’t wise. But what wisdom he’d once possessed seemed determined to desert him when in her company. He watched her moving about the room, trying to equate this elegant creature with an enemy of the state. It seemed ridiculous to make the comparison. There simply had to be another explanation.
Rob allowed himself to wonder.
Dinner was announced shortly thereafter. It fell to Charles to escort the guest of honour in, which pleased Rob. He couldn’t abide the thought of any of the other knaves hogging the contessa’s attention. With Charles she would be perfectly safe and so Rob could afford to relax and plot his next move. A decent player never left these things to chance.
He offered his arm to one of the silly girls who’d been clinging to him. Dinner table conversation was second nature to Rob, and he entertained her with anecdotes from the ton while keeping a weather eye on the contessa, who was seated at the head of the table on Charles’s right. She appeared to spend the entire meal looking everywhere except in Rob’s direction. Presumably, since he hadn’t given her away, she thought she was safe from him. Rob suppressed a smile. She’d just made her first miscalculation.
When the gentlemen had taken sufficient port and rejoined the ladies, no mention was made of chess. Rob understood why. The players in attendance looked upon it as a serious business rather than a sociable way to occupy the hours after dinner. The experts required relative quiet in order to concentrate, which would be both impolite and near impossible to achieve in this assembly.
Music was proposed instead and Rob’s dinner partner appeared eager to perform. He left her to it and slipped out onto the terrace, keen for a moment’s solitude in which to reflect. The events of the evening had done nothing to quell his attraction towards the contessa—quite the reverse, in fact. How in the name of Hades was he supposed to find out what game she was playing when he couldn’t seem to think about anything except taking her to his bed?
Rob often aided Hal in his covert work on behalf of the British government and had never before allowed anything to come before it. Beautiful women were hardly a rarity in his world. They were constantly being thrust before him, especially since Hal’s recent marriage had left Rob as the next most eligible bachelor in the Forster dynasty. The fact that the contessa had a good chess brain might make her more interesting than other beauties and provide them with a common interest. But that hardly explained his inability to think about anything except her. And his determination to discover what she was up to. He needed to hear the truth from her own lips.
Perdition, his mind had drifted towards her lips again.
“You don’t care for music, my lord?”
Rob had been so absorbed with his own thoughts that even the scent of gardenias had failed to warn him he was no longer alone.
“What can I possibly say in answer to that?” He turned his most charming smile upon the contessa. “If I say that I don’t, then you’ll think me a savage. Italians are passionate about their music, are they not?”
“I’m Sicilian.”
“So you are. But you’re still passionate.” Rob was no longer referring to music.
“I suppose I have a passionate nature.” Her lips trembled and she averted her gaze. “But you haven’t answered my question.”
“What was your
question, contessa?” he asked softly.
“We were speaking of your lack of appreciation for music.”
“Ah well, there you have me. If I say that I enjoy music then you’ll wonder why I’m out here alone. If I say that I only enjoy good music, it could be taken as an insult to Charles’s guests.” He spread his hands and his smile simultaneously. “You place me in an impossible position, signora.”
She lifted her head, her eyes glowing an iridescent gold in the flickering light cast by the flambeaux illuminating the terrace. “Then I shall draw my own conclusions.”
“Perhaps that would be best.”
Rob said nothing more and leaned on the balustrade, looking up at the stars. She remained by his side, making him acutely aware of the small distance that separated their bodies and how easy it would be for him to breach it. It was the perfect time to ask her what he needed to know. He suspected that was why she’d followed him out here. Being at his mercy was testing her nerves and she wished to either satisfy herself that he hadn’t recognised her, or get the matter of her nocturnal wanderings out in the open.
As a proficient chess player, Rob knew better than to fall for such an obvious opening ruse.
Instead he allowed the silence to stretch between them unbroken, wondering how long she would be comfortable with that situation. He watched her from the corner of his eye and sensed she was about to speak. That didn’t surprise him. Few people were comfortable with elongated silences, especially when they weren’t at their ease to begin with. Before she could articulate her thoughts the music ended and others joined them on the terrace.
“You appear to have gained a posse of admirers, signora,” he said, nodding towards the throng spilling out the doors, clearly looking for her. “Would you like to remain here and enjoy their attentions?”
She glanced at several of Charles’s neighbours bearing down on her with determined expressions. “Not in the least.”
He proffered his arm. “Then allow me to escort you back to the drawing room.”
“How?” she asked, looking at the crowd blocking the doors.
“The situation calls for a diagonal move.”
She smiled at him and placed her hand on his sleeve. “In other words, you know an alternative way.”
“I so dislike a game that ends in stalemate,” he said, steering her in the opposite direction, towards a side door.
“A cautious player always prepares an escape strategy.”
“Precisely my point, but one which you sometimes forget.”
She gasped. “What do you mean?”
He stopped walking and chanced a glance at her. He could see little of her features, except for her eyes, which were wide with anxiety. “Why, signora, are we not still discussing chess?”
“Well, I—”
“You give yourself away too easily,” he said with a chuckle. “A good player never reveals her feelings through words or expression.”
“I don’t do that.”
Rob reached out a hand and gently stroked the curve of her face. “You’re quite wrong, you know. Already I can read you very well indeed.”
She threw him an offended glance. “You’re very sure of yourself, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
“My remark wasn’t intended as a compliment.”
“Nevertheless, I shall take it as one.”
They spoke in whispers. The contessa’s breath came in shorter and shorter gasps, her body quivered and her eyes remained trained firmly on his lips. She moistened her own lower lip with the tip of her tongue, which was when he understood her gambit. She wanted him to kiss her again, and it took every ounce of Rob’s resolve not to oblige her. She unnerved him with her fiery eyes and eclectic personality, but he wasn’t free to take up her unspoken invitation.
He reined himself in by recalling that he couldn’t be sure if her actions were guided by instinct or if they were a ruse to get closer to him for her own nefarious purposes. Either way, he wouldn’t force the issue until he received a response from Hal and knew what actions his brother wished him to take. Rob smothered a disdainful snort. Whatever Hal decided, Rob already knew it wouldn’t give him the freedom to follow his own path.
Duty was sometimes a curse.
“This way, contessa.”
Rob broke eye contact and led her to the side door, escorted her inside and wished her a curt good-night.
The sacrifices I make in the name of duty, he thought with a twisted smile. Sighing, he watched the elegant sway of her hips as she walked away from him.
Chapter Five
Hal Forster, Marquess of Denby, sat in the small drawing room at the Hall with his wife’s head resting in his lap. The doors to the garden were open and a gentle breeze filtered through the room. He gently pushed the hair from Leah’s brow and ran a proprietary hand over her distended stomach. She winced when the baby kicked.
“My son’s being overactive today,” he said sympathetically.
“Your daughter’s obviously planning a grand entrance.”
Hal’s body tensed. “Immediately?”
Leah laughed. “I didn’t mean at this precise moment.”
“Then selfishly, I’m glad. It’s so seldom that we have the place to ourselves.”
Leah half sat up, panting from the effort it took her. “Surely you don’t resent Beth being with us.”
“Not in the least.”
“That’s good because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my sister.” Leah furled her brow. “She enjoyed all the attention she received during the season, and Mr. Garman has made quite an impression upon her.”
“He’s written to me, as a matter of fact, requesting an appointment.”
“Ah, you didn’t say.”
“The letter only arrived this morning.” Hal helped Leah to sit up and then rubbed the small of her back.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. “Ah, that’s so nice.”
“How does Beth feel about Garman?” Hal rubbed a little more firmly and was rewarded with a series of satisfied moans. “I wouldn’t want to excite his expectations if nothing’s likely to come of it.”
Leah considered the question. “Mr. Garman has interests in archaeology, which is a subject that fascinates Beth.”
“He’s a man of independent means too, so his interest in Beth isn’t mercenary.”
“The problem is that her feelings for him aren’t as passionate as she thinks they ought to be.”
“Good heavens, whatever put that notion into her head?”
“We did.” Leah smiled and reached up to gently trace the curve of his face. He smiled with his eyes and sucked one of those fingers slowly into his mouth. “The only examples she has to follow are Flick’s and our own. Both cases were driven by love that overcame all obstacles.” Leah wrinkled her brow. “Beth feels she ought to entertain similar feelings towards the gentleman she agrees to marry.”
“And she doesn’t feel that way for Garman?”
“She does feel that way, I’m sure, but not for Garman.”
“Then who?” When Leah said nothing, Hal slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Ah, Gabe.”
“She fell deeply for your brother the first time she saw him, which is why none of the men who pursued her during the season found favour. And I believe she’s attracted to Garman because he makes her feel safe, makes her laugh, and talks to her about subjects she understands and enjoys.”
“But her feelings aren’t engaged?”
Leah lifted her shoulders. “Were it not for Gabe, then perhaps...”
“Gabe will be home in a day or two, once he’s finished his final exams, but his mind won’t be on matrimony.”
“No, it will be on horses,” they said together, laughing.
“Gabe isn’t ready to become leg-shackled,” Hal said. “Part of him wants your sister, but the rest of him wants to spread his wings, run that damned horse stud for me and prove something to himself.”
“Beth wouldn’t prevent him from doing that. But still, I see your point.” Leah sighed. “Poor Beth. Still, given the upturn in our circumstances since I sacrificed myself on the altar of marriage for her sake, she can hardly complain. Most young ladies would give ten years of their lives to be in her position.”
Hal laughed. “I give daily thanks for your sacrificial nature.”
She leaned in for a kiss. “As well you ought.”
“I dare say it will work out for the best. But how shall I answer Garman?”
“Have him come down, by all means.” Leah flashed an impudent smile. “But wait until Gabe’s home. Nothing like a little competition to concentrate the mind.”
“I hope you’re not turning into an interfering matchmaker.”
Leah seemed perfectly comfortable beneath his censorious gaze. “I’m now a married woman with a sister’s welfare to consider. Isn’t plotting a brilliant match for her what’s expected of someone in my position?”
Hal rolled his eyes. “Since when did you conform to the norm?”
“I wouldn’t have you...argh!”
“You’re suffering?” Hal was beside himself, wishing he could bear the pain in her stead. “What can I do?”
“I think you’ve done quite enough already.”
Hal could see that her discomfort had eased and his frown was replaced with a grin. “True, but next time—”
“Next time?” She looked directly at him and opened her eyes very wide. “You think I’ll let you anywhere near me with that weapon of yours after this?”
Hal chuckled. “I know you will, and probably far sooner than you ought, because you enjoy my weapon’s little ways.”
She harrumphed. “There’s nothing little about your weapon.”
“Thank you, darling.”
“That wasn’t intended as a compliment.”
Finessing the Contessa Page 5