by Bobbi Smith
“Noah, it’s me….” Matt called out.
“Come on in,” he responded.
“Are you about ready? It’s well after eight,” Matt told him as he let himself into the room. Since his fateful encounter with Faith Hammond early the day before, Matthew had thought of little else, and he was looking forward to the diversion the ball would present. The young colonial woman had haunted his thoughts ever since she’d rushed from the inn and out of his life. Though he had been tempted on several occasions to go to her home, he had held himself back. She had suffered enough. By leaving as she did, she had let him know how she felt in no uncertain terms, and he knew there was no point in pursuing it.
“Just about,” Noah answered. Studying his brother’s reflection in the mirror before him, he was impressed by the fine figure of a man Matt presented. Though his evening dress was not as starkly plain as his own, Matt had chosen well. Playing down the fancy embellishments so popular with others, he had opted for a simple gold-thread design on his dark blue vest, down the front of his matching coat, and about the deep cuffs. The results were striking on the younger man. Matthew was no fop, and Noah was pleased.
“Well done, Matt. You look quite the man-about-town.”
Matt was pleased by his brother’s compliment. He had always admired Noah’s taste in clothes and had tried to emulate his style to a certain degree. “Thanks.”
“No need to thank me. It’s quite the truth,” Noah assured him. “Has the carriage arrived yet?”
“Yes, it pulled up just a minute ago.”
“Let’s be on our way then,” he encouraged, and they started below.
“Tell me about the Demorests,” Matt urged a short time later as the conveyance they’d hired made its way through the winding streets of Boston toward the Demorest home. “You’ve said very little about them, save that Edward Demorest is the agent you’re dealing with here in the colonies.”
“There’s little else to tell.” Noah, immersed in thoughts of his upcoming confrontation with CC, wanted to avoid his brother’s probing questions.
“I’m rather looking forward to making some acquaintances tonight,” he went on. “My interest in the colonies has grown, and I want to learn more about their way of life.”
“Don’t get too enamored with the way things are here,” Noah warned.
“I know, I know,” Matt sighed. “We’re returning to England in the spring, but still, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t find out all I can while I have the opportunity. Who knows? Maybe someday in the future I’ll return on my own.”
Noah could see no reason for his continued interest, but he let it go. If Matt’s interest in the colonies kept him occupied and out of his way while he took care of business, he was all for it.
“Does Demorest have a family?”
“One daughter,” came Noah’s curt reply as a vision of CC dressed in her boy’s garb danced before him.
“Oh? What’s she like?”
The question was a simple one, but Noah found himself groping for an appropriate answer. How could he describe a chit who one moment had been spouting off about her dislike of English aristocracy and the next had been the picture of decorum? Or how could he explain her involvement in political intrigue and dressing as a boy? CC Demorest was a hotheaded, stubborn, and opinionated female; all the things a woman should not be, in his judgment. Yet the memory of her kiss and the smooth ivory silk of her skin sent a rush of excitement through him. Yes, Noah vowed silently as he fought to subdue his desire, there definitely was unfinished business between them.
“She’s pretty,” he finally answered abstractly, gaining Matt’s immediate attention.
“Really? Then why haven’t you mentioned her before?”
“Why should I have?” Noah snapped, much to Matt’s confusion.
“No reason. It’s just unusual for you to ignore a good-looking woman,” he quipped, his remark earning him a strained glance from his brother.
“As you should know, women are the last thing I’m concerned about right now,” he replied harshly.
Matthew fell silent as he pondered Noah’s complete change of personality. Just a few short months before, he had been a rake and a roué of considerable repute on the London social scene. With the beauteous Andrea Broadmoor at his side, he had been the envy of many, but now everything was different. Again Matt wondered, as he turned to gaze out the carriage window at the passing city, if his brother’s more lighthearted side was lost to him forever.
Eve Woodham arched a finely plucked pale brow in approval of her own appearance as she studied herself in the mirror above her dressing table.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Peggy,” the lovely widow told her maid. “This style is perfect, and the bird…Well, it’s just a stroke of genius.” Eve turned and twisted before the glass, admiring the new-fashion hairstyle Peggy had created.
“Thank you, ma’am.” The servant, unused to compliments from her exacting mistress, smiled brightly, thankful that she’d pleased her. She had had her doubts about attempting the new arrangement, but knowing that the ball this evening at the Demorests was an important one to Eve, she’d taken the risk. Piling Eve’s blond hair high over an oval wire frame, she’d powdered it and then artfully added the nesting bird to create what she hoped would be a trendsetting style for her fashion-conscious mistress. The results, she had to admit even to herself, were stunning. There was no doubt in her mind that Eve would be the most lovely woman at the ball.
“Hurry now and get my gown. I want to make an entrance tonight, but I don’t want to be too late.” Eve stood and moved to the center of the room. She slipped out of her dressing gown and let it fall unheeded to the floor, knowing that the maid would pick it up later.
With Peggy’s help, Eve donned her hoops and then slipped into her new gown, an open-robe style of pale blue, ivory-shot silk. The low-cut bodice was most revealing, and Eve’s slight smile was scheming as her maid approached her with the dainty fichu that was used to modestly cover that exposed delicate flesh.
“No,” Eve stated flatly when Peggy would have adjusted the material over her cleavage.
“No, ma’am?” The maid’s eyes were wide in wonder.
“I think not tonight, Peggy.”
“But, Miss Eve…”
Eve’s blue eyes flashed in crystal coldness as she spoke of her plan. “Tonight Lord Noah Kincade will be in attendance, and I fully intend to attract his attention.”
“Lord Kincade?”
“He’s just arrived from England. I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve heard that a handsomer man has never walked the face of the Earth,” she confided, an edge of unswaying determination in her voice.
“Ooh! How exciting! No wonder you’ve been in such a tizzy getting ready for tonight.”
Eve’s smile was hard. “Mark my words, Peggy, I’m going to do whatever it takes to win him.”
After coming out of mourning for her elderly first husband two years before, Eve had been sought after by most of the bachelors of Boston. Gorgeous, intelligent, and extremely sensual, she made a practice of keeping men dangling. She had experienced one bad marriage, her dead husband having been very tight with his money and very jealous of her, and she was determined to select her second husband with more care.
Since being widowed and left with a comfortable fortune, Eve had discovered that she liked being in control of her own destiny. As she waited for the right man to come along, she had made the best of her widowhood, using it as both a device to attract suitors and a defense against too ardent ones. When she’d heard the talk about Lord Kincade, she’d become convinced that he was the right man. The colonies bored her, and having always longed to live in England, Eve was setting her cap for Lord Noah Kincade. Rumor had it he was tall, handsome, and very rich. She did not intend to fail.
“But what of Lord Radcliffe, ma’am?”
“Geoffrey?” Eve scoffed with an indifferent laugh. “He’s a plaything to me, Peggy. He has no money of hi
s own. He’s the earl’s youngest son and has been banished here by his father for his excesses.”
“But he’s certainly a good-looker.”
“It’s nice that a man is handsome, but it’s not essential to my future happiness.”
“I don’t understand.” The maid was truly puzzled. Eve and Lord Geoffrey had been lovers for some time now, and Peggy had always expected them to marry.
“Geoffrey’s pockets are lined only out of his father’s need to keep him away from home. He’s totally dependent on his relatives for his income, and I might add they are not overly fond of him.”
“And Lord Kincade?”
“I don’t know much, just that the family owns Kincade Shipping and that they are very wealthy. Obviously, since Noah Kincade’s here doing some of the negotiating himself, he must be intricately involved in the business. According to one source, he has every intention of returning to England in the spring.” Eve whirled about to give Peggy a triumphant smile. “So, with any luck at all, before the year’s out, I will be Lady Kincade and on my way to England to be lady of the manor.”
“Oh, Miss Eve…” Peggy sighed. “He’s everything you’ve ever wanted…an Englishman who’s rich and titled and good-looking.”
“I know,” Eve agreed. “I’ve waited for a long time for Noah Kincade to come along, and I don’t intend to let him get away. So”—she turned and posed for Peggy—“what do you think? Am I beautiful enough?”
“You’re more than beautiful, ma’am. You’re breathtaking. No man will be able to resist you tonight,” she affirmed.
“Good.” She went to her jewel box and selected her finest diamond eardrops and matching necklace. “Help me with these. We must convince Lord Kincade that I am every bit his equal money-wise, or he’s liable to dismiss me as a mere colonial.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Peggy was truly surprised at the amount of effort her mistress was putting into catching His Lordship, and she wondered if all her careful planning was going to work.
“Peggy…run and tell James that I’m on my way down, and have him order the carriage brought around.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The maid hurried to comply.
CC descended the staircase gracefully and Edward stood in the hallway below, watching her with glowing eyes. She was beautiful, this child of his. Wearing a modestly cut emerald brocade gown of the open-robe style, its sleeves falling in graceful ruffles at her elbows, CC was dazzling, and he was not averse to letting her know how proud he was of her.
“You’re lovely, my darling.” Edward met her at the bottom step and pressed a fatherly peck on her cheek.
“Thank you, Papa.” She smiled up at him, her eyes warm with affection. “I hope you’re satisfied with the preparations I’ve made for the ball.”
“I’ve gone over everything with Gilbert, and you’ve arranged things marvelously,” he complimented. “The first of our guests should be arriving in the next few minutes, and the music is scheduled to begin in about half an hour.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased. I know how much this means to you, having the governor and Major Winthrop in attendance.”
“They are very important men, and I hope the evening proves a pleasant one.”
“It will.” CC had spared no expense in planning for their guests. Taking her father’s arm, she allowed him to lead her into the parlor.
“A sherry, CC?”
“Please.” She accepted the crystal glass and sipped delicately of its amber contents as she moved to the window.
“Lord Kincade will be here, you know, as well as his brother,” Edward offered.
A smile curved her lips, but did not reach her eyes, as she replied in a teasing tone that hid her very real aversion to the man, “I know, and I promise not to embroil him in any more political discussions.”
Secretly, CC dreaded the upcoming confrontation, for she wasn’t overly confident of her acting abilities. She despised Kincade from the very depths of her soul, and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to speak to him at all beyond a welcoming greeting. After that initial encounter, she was going to make every effort to avoid him. Considering all that had happened, CC was certain that that arrangement would suit him, too.
For an instant the fear stabbed at her that Kincade might reveal all to her father, but she quickly forced the possibility from her mind. He’d be a fool to risk exposing his own involvement with the rebels, and she knew, in spite of everything else, that Lord Noah Kincade was no fool.
The sound of a knock at the door and the servant answering signaled the beginning of the party, and Edward and CC went forth to welcome their guests.
Tall, blond, and stylishly attired in an intricately embroidered scarlet coat and matching vest, Lord Geoffrey Radcliffe, second son of the Earl of Radcliffe, stood at the edge of the ballroom dance floor savoring his tumbler of Edward Demorest’s expensive whiskey and contemplating his lot in life. All in all, things weren’t going too badly for him. Not that he relished living in the colonies, but when one had no alternative, one had to make the best of it. Money had never been a problem, as his father was more than happy to pay whatever amount it took to keep his “disgraceful” youngest son out of the way. He lived as comfortable an existence as possible in Boston and did not suffer too much the inconvenience.
Geoffrey’s thin, cruel lips twisted into a cynical smile at the thought of his family’s opinion of him, and he took a deep drink of his whiskey. He found their collective condemning of him amusing. Still, it did have the power to irritate. Who were they to criticize, when they were as immoral in their own vices as he had been in his? Only, he had had the misfortune of being discovered and, therefore, had lost favor with the king. It irked him that he was banished from his home, but he knew he was better off where he was. Certainly, had he been allowed to remain, he would have had difficulty tolerating his older brother James’s constant criticism. Geoffrey had always hated James, the next in line for the title of Earl of Radcliffe, for his superior attitude, and he realized that the distance between them was a good thing.
The sound of more guests arriving drew his dark, brooding gaze to the main hall, and a glimmer of appreciation lit his expression as he caught sight of the fair widow Eve Woodham making her grand entrance. Geoffrey’s pulse quickened as he remembered their last encounter, and he thrust all thoughts of his family from him. Eve was the main reason that his life here in the colonies was tolerable, and he could hardly wait until he could maneuver her into a secluded corner tonight so they could be alone. He was enamored with her lithe body and the wild spontaneity of her lovemaking. She was more enticing than any of the women he’d dallied with in England, and Geoffrey was totally caught up in the web of her sensuality.
Even though he wanted to hurry forth and claim her for his own, Geoffrey held back. He was a nobleman and his position dictated that it would not do to appear too eager for her company. He would wait patiently until she’d swept into the ballroom and charmed all those present before approaching her. Turning to a group of men nearby, he joined in their conversation.
“Eve…so glad you could come.” CC greeted Eve with apparent warmth, for, though she had known her for years, she had never developed a fondness for her. Eve represented all that CC disliked in a woman because she used the “helplessness” of her femininity to entice men. CC knew better. There was nothing helpless about her; the woman was a vulture where men were concerned. She had observed her manipulations of her admirers for a long time and understood her motives perfectly—Eve Woodham was out to catch the richest husband she could. CC wondered why the men didn’t realize it.
“It was so kind of you to have me,” Eve returned sweetly as she eyed CC’s emerald gown. She recognized the styling and craftsmanship as the work of one of the finest seam-stresses in the city but decided that, attractive though the gown might be, it was not nearly as exciting as her own. She smiled to herself as the butler came to slip her wrap from her shoulders, revealing to all the daring cut of her d
écolletage.
“Eve, my dear, you look beautiful,” Edward told her gallantly as he bent over her hand.
“Thank you, Edward,” she preened under his flattery.
“Your gown is lovely,” CC added, admiring the style but wondering why Eve had felt it necessary to bare so much of her bosom. Was there someone here she was trying to ensnare with her “charms”? “And your hairstyle is striking.” Though not an admirer of powdered hair, CC had to admit that Eve’s stylist had created something very eye-catching. If the hair doesn’t attract the man she’s after tonight, she thought a bit cattily, the gown will certainly do the trick.
“I had the gown made especially for tonight, and Peggy designed my hair. It’s absolutely marvelous, isn’t it?” Eve glowed as she leaned toward Edward. “Has he arrived yet?” she asked, lowering her voice to an almost conspiratory pitch.
“Yes, Geoffrey is—” Edward started, but she interrupted, touching his arm as she gave a light laugh.
“Not Geoffrey. Lord Noah Kincade. I’ve heard so much about him lately that I just can’t wait to meet him.”
“Lord Kincade…of course…” he blustered. “No, he hasn’t made an appearance yet, but I’m sure he’ll be arriving soon.”
“You’ve met him already, haven’t you, Cecelia?” Eve asked, keeping her tone casual lest she reveal too much of her excitement at finally having the opportunity to meet the nobleman.
CC didn’t understand why, but the other woman’s mention of Kincade annoyed her.
“Oh yes, I’ve met him,” CC answered through gritted teeth. She remembered the last time she’d seen him, and his words—You may come to my room at the Red Lion later—rang through her mind.
“And?” Eve pressed, eager for any information she could glean about the rich lord.
“He’s a very handsome, charming man.” CC almost gagged on the lie. Handsome? Once she had thought him so, but no longer. And charming? Hatred flamed anew within her as she thought of that night. Noah Kincade had all the charm of a snake…the morals, too.