The Last Waltz: Hearts are at stake in the game of love... (Dorothy Mack Regency Romances)

by Dorothy Mack

  “Isn’t she a beauty? Look at those soft brown eyes,” urged Adrienne when Luc seemed more interested in the mare’s knees.

  “She’s good-looking all right,” the boy conceded, “but not up to carrying much weight, I’d say. For my money Trooper here is a real horse. Look at the strength of those flanks and that powerful chest. He’s built for endurance and speed.”

  “That he is,” concurred the earl, pardonably proud of his favourite. “He has carried me over all kinds of terrain in all kinds of weather for hour after weary hour, and Lord knows I’m no lightweight. But your sister scarcely weighs a feather. Bijou won’t even know she’s on her.”

  Luc grinned impishly. “Probably because she won’t be on her after the first five minutes.”

  “Thank you, we can do without your brand of encouragement, young man,” Lord Creighton said sternly. “Here, make yourself useful by holding Bijou while I assist Adrienne to mount.”

  Actually, Luc’s teasing had served to stiffen Adrienne’s backbone so that she concentrated on following Dominic’s directions. He helped her to arrange her skirt and adjusted the stirrup when she was as comfortably settled as was possible, considering the state of her nerves. Bijou cooperated by standing perfectly still during the process, allowing Adrienne time to accustom herself to this new view of the world.

  At a signal from his large cousin, Luc took himself and his critical eye back inside the house after expressing a casual wish that his sister would enjoy her ride. The anxious look on Adrienne’s face deepened as the mare took a sidling step or two in response to Trooper’s sudden nudge. Dominic smiled reassuringly into dilated aquamarine eyes.

  “There is nothing to worry about, cousin, and nothing to think about either. Until you feel comfortable with the motion, I shall put Bijou on a lead rein and we’ll just walk to the park. Nelson here,” indicating the smiling groom, “will hold your reins while I mount.”

  Dominic was as good as his word. By the time they reached the park, Adrienne had relaxed enough to look around her at the splendours of spring, and, after a few more minutes, to actually respond in a sensible fashion to her companion’s conversational overtures. She found the slow, steady motion of the horse strange but not at all alarming, and experienced no reluctance when at last Dominic suggested she might like to take the reins into her own hands. In due course she became accustomed to the feel of the reins, though she would be the first to admit that so far Bijou had not required any control from her rider at all.

  There was scarcely a person to be seen in the park at that hour of the morning save a few riders like themselves, and those few seemed intent on their own business. Adrienne quickly lost all self-consciousness, and eventually the suggestion that they increase their pace came from her. Concealing a smile of triumph, Dominic readily acquiesced. In another fifteen minutes he was able to compliment his cousin on her seat without reservation, having watched her adjust easily to the trotting motion of her mount. Knowing, as Adrienne did not, the probable effect on her untrained muscles of this new form of exercise, the earl called a halt at this point to her first lesson. He was pleased to see that an instinctive protest rose to Adrienne’s lips before she remembered her manners and concurred politely.

  As they turned their horses toward the entrance to the park, Dominic was startled to witness a sudden stiffening of Adrienne’s body and a resumption of the anxious expression she had shed after the first five minutes. Glancing around quickly, he caught sight of a familiar figure in a black habit entering the park between two Belgian officers. He put out an instinctive hand to Bijou’s bridle and headed the mare down another path, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and Pamela and her escorts. They circled around and left the park by another exit, making their way back to Rue Ducale through the still-quiet streets. Neither Dominic nor Adrienne mentioned having seen Lady Tremayne, but the conversation on the return trip was less spontaneous and tended to be punctuated by sudden silences as the cousins pursued their individual trains of thought.

  Adrienne was surprised to find herself a trifle stiff when Dominic lifted her down from the mare, but after an involuntary little grimace she summoned up a genuine smile and thanked him most sincerely for her lesson.

  Bright blue eyes laughed into hers as, with his hands still spanning her waist, he coaxed, “Admit it, little cousin, that was not nearly the hideous ordeal you had envisioned, was it?”

  “Oh no, it was wonderful!” Adrienne dimpled adorably. “And for once my natural clumsiness did not lead me into disaster.”

  “What is this idiotish notion?” Dominic asked with a little frown.

  “It’s not idiotish at all, unfortunately. Luc was quite right when he told you I was prone to accidents. I am forever knocking things over or tripping over something. You cannot have failed to notice.”

  “You are often impetuous in your movements, I will grant. However, I shall not allow anyone to call you clumsy, my girl, and that includes your charming self. Have I not danced with you? Your natural grace is certainly evident on the dance floor, and I’ll have no more of this imputed clumsiness — is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir, Colonel, sir!”

  The alien sternness vanished from Dominic’s face at Adrienne’s mock humility. He grinned and pinched her chin. “Minx! Let’s go in to breakfast; I’m starving. You go inside. I’ll be along as soon as I’ve had a word with Nelson.”

  At the mention of breakfast, Adrienne discovered that the unaccustomed exercise in the early-morning air had provided her with a healthy appetite also. She stayed just long enough to give Bijou a valedictory pat before obeying her cousin’s command.

  That first ride marked the beginning of a period of carefree enjoyment for Adrienne. Unless it rained, Dominic made himself available for a riding session before breakfast each day. Once having overcome her unreasoning fear of horses, she proved a quick and able pupil. If her teacher had any complaint to make at all, it was that she tended to push herself faster than he thought advisable, but he certainly was impressed with the rapid development of confidence in the saddle that she displayed. The awareness that her cousin was proud of her progress was a source of continuing pleasure to Adrienne. She glowed at his praise and looked forward eagerly to each morning’s ride. The acquisition of what she privately considered her first actual accomplishment meant more to the inexperienced girl than she wished her relatives to guess, but one would have had to be devoid of all sensibility to miss the aura of happiness surrounding Miss Castle during those early June days.

  The prebreakfast ride was incontrovertibly the high point of her day as Adrienne rapidly mastered the rudiments of horsemanship. After a few lessons, Dominic was able to relax his vigilance enough to make it possible to extend their territory to include rides along the Allée Verte beyond the city gates. The beautiful lime trees were in full bloom now, and there was always activity along the canal. Sometimes Luc would join his sister and cousin, but their ambling progress was not best suited to his own style of riding, which Dominic indulgently described as “neck or nothing.” An uneasy conscience had prompted Adrienne to suggest that Lady Tremayne might like to accompany them on occasion. She had not been able to suppress a guilty feeling that she had usurped the right of an affianced wife to first consideration, and this niggling little worm of conscience prevented her contentment from being absolute. To her secret relief, Dominic vetoed this suggestion with the casual explanation that Lady Tremayne had not after all preferred the earlier hour for her ride. A delighted Adrienne was left to the undiluted enjoyment of her teacher’s company for that first hour of the morning.

  If he rode later in the day with his fiancée, the earl never mentioned the fact to his cousin. For her part, Adrienne was prevented by some unadmitted but instinctive reluctance from introducing the person of her cousin’s betrothed into any conversation. She would have been happy to be able to banish Lady Tremayne from her thoughts too, but since she was thrust into occasional contact wi
th the beautiful brunette, this desirable state was impossible of achievement. At least thoughts of Lady Tremayne were not permitted to intrude on those idyllic morning rides.

  Just as Adrienne was enjoying for the first time a ripening friendship with a female of her own generation in the person of Sarah Forrester, so too was the concomitant development of a satisfying companionship with a male not too removed from her in age a novel and agreeable experience. She and Dominic talked unrestrainedly about everything under the sun on their daily rides. Had she thought about it, she would have marvelled at how closely attuned they were in their minds, but Adrienne was too caught up in pleasure to have time for introspection. She simply accepted the presence of this splendid new cousin in their lives as a gift of the fates.

  The earl’s ladies found their social engagements increasing during this period also. Lady Betancourt, having discovered that one of Lord Creighton’s cousins was known to her from her youth, called one morning and renewed her acquaintance with Miss Beckworth. Subsequently, Adrienne and Becky received an invitation to a dance given in honour of Miss Elvira Betancourt, her ladyship’s eldest daughter. Thanks to Monsieur Daubigny’s efforts, Adrienne was able to look forward to her first ball with no qualms about her ability to perform the dances correctly. Her own gregarious nature ensured that she would enjoy the company.

  And so it turned out. Midway through the evening, Lord Creighton was waltzing with his betrothed when his cousin whirled by in the arms of a dashing lieutenant of hussars.

  “Adrienne seems to be enjoying herself mightily at her first dance,” he remarked with a tolerant smile.

  Lady Tremayne’s eyes came back from following the couple and met his coolly. “Yes, I’ve noticed a number of callow youths buzzing around her like flies.”

  Some of the animation of Dominic’s features was replaced by impersonal courtesy as he held her gaze, but all he said, and that mildly, was, “We all go through that stage along the way.”

  “I don’t believe you were ever callow, even in your youth,” Lady Tremayne said consideringly. “You have such complete self-possession, I think you must always have been sure from your cradle that your way was the right way.”

  The earl’s eyebrows rose in comical dismay, but before he could question this strange utterance the music wound down and they were immediately surrounded by members of Pamela’s court, which, Dominic noted, ran heavily in favour of so-called men of the world. No callow youths there, but one or two of dubious odour. He would have dispatched them speedily had they made Adrienne the object of their gallantry, but Pamela was no innocent debutante and would not welcome his interference. He bowed and effaced himself.

  The next dance was his waltz with his cousin, who greeted him with a radiant smile before excusing herself from a chattering group of young people. It took only a few measures to convince Dominic that Adrienne had acquired confidence on the dance floor. Though a trifle short for him, she was a perfect partner, very responsive to his every move. For a time they danced in silence; then he looked down into the vivid little face raised to his and said with a twinkle:

  “Allow me to compliment you on your choice of gown tonight, Miss Castle. It is supremely becoming.”

  “Now don’t you start,” she began in impatient tones, then coloured guiltily. “I mean,” she amended, “I thank you, sir.”

  He examined her quizzically. “Do you have some rooted objection to compliments? It has always been my impression that young ladies found nothing to object to in a well-turned compliment; indeed, I would have said they welcomed them.”

  “An honest compliment, yes, but it is my impression that most young men tell every girl she is the most beautiful in the room, and that is not honest!”

  “Is that what all the young men are telling you tonight?” he asked with an odd little smile.

  “Yes, and it is all fustian of course!”

  Dominic made no answer but pulled her closer to avoid a collision with a couple whose enthusiasm was not matched by an equal degree of skill. He executed a couple of impromptu turns and they were safely on their way again.

  “That was very smoothly done,” Adrienne said admiringly. “I thought my dress was about to be stepped on back there. You must be the most skilful dancer in the room, or the best waltzer at least.”

  Dominic drew back and looked at her in sorrow. “You disappoint me, Miss Castle. I never thought to find you offering Spanish coin.”

  Adrienne’s mouth dropped open. “Of course I’m not!” she sputtered indignantly. “You know you are a wonderful dancer. Why, you as good as told me so that day you helped Monsieur Daubigny with my lessons!”

  “Ah, but how do I know you haven’t told every partner the exact same thing tonight?” The more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger look remained.

  “Of course I haven’t!” Adrienne scowled at him suspiciously; then a reluctant smile trembled at her lips. “Dominic, you beast! It was not the same thing at all. I meant what I said!”

  One eyebrow escalated. “And yet you cannot bring yourself to accept that your partners were equally sincere?”

  The pointed chin elevated dangerously. “The cases are not the same,” she insisted. “I am not the most beautiful girl here. There are dozens of prettier girls!” She removed her left hand from his shoulder and gestured comprehensively about her.

  “In my opinion there are two, possibly three, ladies present who outshine you au fait de beauté, but that is only my opinion. Perhaps Lieutenant Markham, for example, would not agree with me.”

  “Oh, Lieutenant Markham!” Adrienne cried dismissively. “He has a singular penchant for red hair, or so he claims.”

  “You are proving my point, my dear little unbelieving cousin. The sincerity of the compliment does not depend on whether you agree with the content.”

  Adrienne digested this for a minute. “I can’t dispute what you have just said, that’s true, but I certainly can and do dispute the sincerity of most of what passes for gallantry on the dance floor.” She eyed him challengingly. Dominic grinned and said with saintly smugness:

  “If I have caused you to question your suspicions at all, I am satisfied.” So saying, he pulled her closer for no better reason than to administer a friendly hug, an action which, had it been witnessed, would have served to confirm the fears of careful mothers who had predicted that the scandalous waltz would inevitably lead to a lapse in public morals.

  Fortunately, the new German dance was so fast that onlookers would have to train their eyes on a particular couple to note any aberrant behaviour. In this instance, however, two pairs of eyes had been idly watching the earl and his partner glide over the floor for several minutes.

  “Creighton and his young cousin certainly dance well together,” General Forrester remarked to Miss Beckworth in the alcove where they were enjoying a few quiet moments off their feet.

  “Yes. I was a bit concerned for Adrienne at her first dance, but she has made rapid strides with her dancing lessons and already performs with the best of them, though that may be my natural partiality speaking.”

  “Not at all. Miss Castle is a singularly graceful dancer. The cousins get along well together too, do they not? One can almost sense the closeness — in spirit, I mean,” the general added hastily as the earl chose that instant for his impulsive embrace.

  The comfortable cadence of Miss Beckworth’s voice took on a thoughtful shade as she agreed. “Yes, all the children adore Dominic. He has been wonderful to us all.” She drew her companion’s attention to another waltzing couple with a comment on their style, and he obligingly followed her lead.

  If the general found Miss Beckworth a trifle absentminded for the remainder of the evening, he was too much the gentleman to appear to notice. The truth was that just lately, Miss Beckworth’s complaisance at the friendly relationship existing between Lord Creighton and his cousins had become a bit frayed around the edges in Adrienne’s case by an unwelcome but persistent suspicion that a deeper element than cou
sinly affection was creeping into the girl’s feelings for Dominic. She would take her oath that Adrienne was unaware that she stood in danger of tumbling into love with her handsome cousin. The girl was very inexperienced, and she had displayed no signs of partiality for any of those who had recently sought her company.

  Life would be a lot simpler if Adrienne remained a stranger to the pangs of love, at least until their future became clearer. This heady interval of gaiety was just that — an episode taken out of the context of their lives and not to be taken seriously. Adrienne had recognized this once, but she was young and it would be unreasonable to expect that she could come through unscathed. Even Miss Beckworth, a severely practical woman, had not been able to prevent herself from considering each young man who entered their orbit in the light of a possible suitor, despite Adrienne’s patent ineligibility. There was no way she would be able to shield the girl from disappointment should she form an attachment to one of the well-connected officers who surrounded her. A girl would have to be unnaturally cool indeed to remain unaffected by such flattering attentions. Her dependence had been entirely on the shortness of their projected stay in the earl’s house as a deterrent to the formation of any serious attachment.

  Just lately, however, she’d have almost welcomed a preference on Adrienne’s part for one or other of the soldiers who showered attentions on her. Better, infinitely better to succumb to a sudden romantic infatuation with a dashing uniform that was almost guaranteed to wither with absence than to drift unknowingly from cousinly affection to undying love for Dominic. Every feminine and maternal instinct warned Miss Beckworth that this was the real danger, and that her beloved girl was headed straight for heartache.

  CHAPTER 14

  Adrienne sat relaxed in her corner, humming one of the dance melodies the orchestra had played that evening. There was enough light from the lamps outside the carriage to highlight the dreamy expression on her face. The flickering light also danced over her companion’s hands clasped tightly together in her lap, but Adrienne wasn’t looking at Miss Beckworth, and she started a little when that lady’s voice interrupted the humming to ask if she had enjoyed her evening.