“On the contrary. It is only in business that I have learned whose opinion to trust. And your father’s,” he replied, casually assessing her bosom, “is unerringly sound.”
The nerve! Sarah flushed, feeling a tremendous urge to cover herself from his burning eyes. He had matched wits and then had the audacity to leer at her in front of her father! Weakly, she prayed for escape from the disturbingly virile Stewart Chamberlain and was barely able to hide her relief when Lady Juliana suddenly appeared with young Jack Harrington at her side.
“This, Mr. Chamberlain, is my daughter, Lady Juliana Tremont, whose birthday we are celebrating. And with her is Viscount James Harrington, the son of our neighbor, The Marquess of Oxfordshire.
To Jack, Juliana and Sarah, he said, “This is Mr. Stewart Chamberlain from Boston, Massachusetts.” As the Duke made the introductions, Sarah watched Juliana staring at the Yankee with unveiled delight. The fair-haired Jack, having observed this, was finding it more difficult to be congenial.
“Lady Juliana, it is my pleasure to meet you. Birthdays quite agree with you,” Chamberlain said as he gave Juliana a dazzling white smile. “And Harrington,” he said to Jack, extending his hand, “Indeed you are a fortunate man to be escorting the belle of the ball.”
“Oh, Mr. Chamberlain,” Juliana tilted her head provocatively, “Lord Harrington may be my escort this evening, but it appears that I have this next dance free. And I think that on my birthday, I should dance every dance, do you not agree?”
“Ido,indeed,”Chamberlaingrinned,offering his arm. “It would be my pleasure.” She smiled, very pleased with herself, and with a wave over her shoulder to the three, Juliana and her partner joined the others already waltzing on the dance floor.
Weston chuckled deeply, “So like her mother, it pains me to remember.” His faced turned a tight mask, Jack turned to Sarah. “Would you care to dance with me, Lady Sarah?” he asked stiffly.
“Of course,” she smiled, hoping to find some way to console the poor lad as they walked onto the dance floor.
How they managed to keep o ff each other’s toes was beyond Sarah, since both of them spent the time watching Stewart Chamberlain gracefully sweep Lady Juliana around the gleaming floor, dancing as if they had done this many times before. His dark head bending low to her fair one was a most disarming sight. For totally different reasons, it bothered Sarah and Jack that Chamberlain was such a superb dancer. And oblivious to all stares, Juliana was beaming, having the time of her life.
How can she be so calm with his arm around her? thought Sarah as she plodded through the waltz. Well at least this is one heart I will enjoy seeing her break, she said to herself with uncharacteristic vengeance. Perhaps then he will not be so smug.
As if reading her thoughts, Jack spoke softly above her head. “For a Yankee, he appears quite at home. I feel sorry for him if he thinks Julie’s fascination is real. She is only a little tart playing games,” he said with more conviction, obviously, than he felt.
“Now Jack,” Sarah replied, feigning a cheerfulness she did not possess. “You know her too well to be jealous. And just think. You have her all to yourself save for these parties. Give her time. After all, she is only sixteen.”
Jack sighed as the waltz mercifully ended. “I suppose you are right, Sarah. But there are times when I would prefer to punish her.”
“Poor Jack,” Sarah commiserated, but she could not help chuckling, too. The thought of Lord Harrington ever doing anything to upset his love was so implausible, it was laughable. Squeezing his hand reassuringly, she excused herself so that he might be better able to recapture Juliana for the next dance.
As she moved toward the terrace doorway, intent on taking some air, she pondered how her young sister had so easily captured Jack’s heart. How he suffered because of Juliana! Though when she was not in a position to flirt, Juliana seemed quite in love with her most persistent suitor. Since childhood, he was her staunchest champion, always taking the blame for the misfortunes resulting from her mischievousness. And no matter how often she shunned his devotion, Jack was always there to forgive her fickle ways.
There were times when her a ffection for the lad almost made Sarah wish that she and Jack had been the ones to fall in love. They were kindred personalities – calm, intelligent, thoughtful – with none of Juliana’s selfish unconcern for feelings or consequences. But her joie de vivre, so much more compelling than their quieter natures, was one of the reasons they both loved her so much. Juliana was indeed a heartless madcap, but she also provided merriment and calamity to their ordinary lives.
With a clarity that bemused her, for Sarah had not been consciously handsome stranger, she Chamberlain might just be the one suitor whose heart Juliana could not break. Despite her earlier reaction – prompted purely by vengeance – she truly doubted that Mr. Chamberlain had ever been the victim of any woman’s charms.
thinking of the tall,
believed that Stewart He was no callow youth, if she were any judge of age or experience. The rugged worldliness of his features suggested that thirty had passed him by. By his obvious sophistication, she surmised him to be the type who had sent more than one Juliana crying to their mothers. And not a few fathers declaring that he do the honorable thing and marry their darlings.
Alone on one of the paths through her mother’s prized gardens, Sarah laughed aloud at the thought of anyone forcing that Yankee to do anything. Her one encounter with the stranger had already convinced her how absurd the idea was. Chamberlain was his own master, and pity the sorry fool who thought otherwise.
CHAPTER 2
“Care to join me?” The quietly delivered invitation caused Sarah to practically jump out of her skin. It came from a wrought iron bench, beneath a large oak tree. The bench was partially hidden by a hedgerow deep within the garden maze. Before she saw the shadowy form of the man, she spied the dull glow of a pleasantly scented cheroot.
“Y-you startled me,” she gasped, her knees turning liquid with the knowledge that the man speaking was none other than the one occupying her thoughts.
“Please, sit down,” he beckoned, rising to make room for her on the curved loveseat. Now she could see his face reflected in the torches lighting the path. Again it had a devastating effect as her heart beat madly within her rising breast.
“Thank you, but ....” she hesitated, desperate for an excuse. “I-I am afraid I have grown chilled. I forgot my shawl.”
Before she could turn, Stewart had laid his cigar to rest on the bench, had removed his beautifully made tailcoat, and was bringing it around her shoulders. His actions forced her closer to him. To escape she had no alternative but to sit down. “Better?” he murmured pleasantly.
“Thankyou,”shewhispered,anunrulypart of her enjoying the fabric, the scent, and the heat of his body still lingering within the folds. The sensations were having a strange effect on her composure.
He resumed his seat next to her, nonchalantly stretching his quite long legs in front of him as he took another puff on the slender cigar. “I had not expected to have such an opportunity to make your acquaintance this evening,” he said after a moment. “Your father was quite gracious to invite me on such short notice.”
“Are you staying in Town?” Sarah asked politely, referring to London, surprised that her tone sounded normal. The man certainly was impossible to ignore.
“I have been ... until today. Your father and I are going into business together. We are attempting to arrange a trade cartel of American and British businessmen. Do you know something of this?”
She did indeed, but his question surprised her. Most men assumed, and rightfully so, that young ladies knew nothing of what the men in their families did for a living. A woman was a pleasant diversion, necessary species. Few women cared, and fewer still were educated enough to discuss business or politics on anything but the most superficial level. Sarah found the manager of the home, and a partner in the perpetuation of the herself warming to the opportunity o
f discussing with this man a subject that interested her greatly.
“My father and I have discussed it on numerous occasions,” she told him matter-offactly. “Ever since the Orders in Council were enacted two years ago, we advocated some sort of trade pact between the British and the Colonists, to maintain freedom of trade. Of course,” she added, “the Yankee blockade runners were doing an admirable job for a time, despite our restrictions.” She smiled provocatively
He tipped an imaginary hat, grinning in shared amusement, “I ask you, what choice did we have? If we wanted to trade with Europe, we had to suffer Britain’s ‘privilege’ of inspecting our cargo beforehand. Your government would have been more honest had they hijacked us on the high seas,” he scoffed.
“You have to understand our problem with France,” she insisted. “You Americans fail to recognize the principle here, thinking you can trade with anyone, regardless of politics. France is our sworn enemy. You can’t have it both ways, Mr. Chamberlain.”
“Sowehavebeenshown,”hechuckled mirthlessly, taking a puff of his slim cigar while he stretched his long body more comfortably on the bench.
The urge to needle him was strong, “Actually I would say your own President Jefferson was a greater problem to you than the French or the British,” she offered boldly.
Stewart suddenly leaned forward enthusiastically. “Ah yes,” he agreed. “The Embargo Act. I would be much farther along in my business dealings if it were not for that. Imagine, forbidding American ships to sail to any foreign port! The British may not have been able to defeat us, but we’ve almost done the job ourselves. It is indeed fortunate that President Madison has rescinded the Act, which enabled this visit to England.”
Thus set the tone for a lively conversation, politics stumbling over into geography, culture, and before Sarah knew it, the evening had flown. She was so enraptured by the handsome stranger’s account of his travels and his native land that it was only the noticeable hush, caused by a break in the musical performance, which made her aware of the passage of time.
“Ibegyourpardon,Mr.Chamberlain,”she pleaded sincerely when she realized the lateness of the hour. “I have sorely monopolized your evening when you should have been inside enjoying yourself.”
“Oh,butIhavebeenenjoyingmyself,”he crooned in his wonderfully rich baritone, making no effort to rise. “So much so, I could not begin to tell you.”
His appreciative gaze, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight, at once warmed and startled the innocent young woman. It was as if she had only this moment clearly realized the magnetic quality of this dangerously attractive man.
Tearing her eyes away from his, Sarah tensed noticeably, a cautious aura settling around her as real as the shadowy light torches near them in the suddenly numb, she removed his tailcoat from her shoulders, standing as she did. “Thank you,” she whispered self-consciously, “for sharing your coat. I-I have to go now ....”
emanating from the garden. With fingers
Stewart stood, too, his towering height and broad build overwhelming her. But he made no attempt to reach for the coat she offered with trembling hands.
“Do you ride?” he asked quite unexpectedly. Sarah blinked at the strangely mundane question.
“Ride?”shereplied,hersurpriseobvious. “Yes, ride?” he grinned in that disarmingly relaxed way. “As in ‘ride a horse.’ Do you, Lady Sarah?”
“Why yes, of course,” she breathed shakily. “Why do you ask?” “I thought perhaps you would be so kind as to accompany me tomorrow morning. Your father suggested that I might enjoy the countryside.”
“You will be spending the night?” she asked incredulously, clutching the silk tailcoat against her bosom. Part of her was thrilled; the other part feared the extended presence of this hypnotic man.
He nodded, smiling. “A week perhaps. Your father has suggested, wisely, I think, given the circumstance, that relative seclusion.” deter him from his purpose. “Would you accompany we conduct our business in But her question would not me then?” Noting her wariness, he added, “Being a stranger here, I would appreciate a guide.”
How could she refuse him the courtesy? After all, he was her father’s honored guest. “Very well,” she capitulated, feeling outmaneuvered and quite foolish for agreeing to spend any more time than necessary with this handsome foreigner. How much more could her throbbing pulse endure? “After breakfast then. I will meet you at the stables.”
“I shall be counting the hours,” he replied smoothly, reaching out toward her, his smoldering brown eyes holding hers fast.
Sarah took a skittish step backward, blushing visibly when she realized he was merely asking for his jacket. Thrusting the rich cloth in his hand, she was again undone by the startling warmth of his fingers making contact with her through her glove.
The unexpected touch evoked an immediate reaction that the stranger could not help but notice. Tearing her fingers away, she mumbled a stunned farewell. grasped chest, his wide mouth meshing with hers in a sudden but gentle kiss.
But before she could turn, Stewart had her shoulders and pulled her into his Her surprise at his unexpected embrace in no way compared to the jolt of excitement caused by his wonderfully sensuous assault. Nervous fingers that had intended to push him away instead contoured with the hard wall of his torso, involuntarily kneading the rich fabric of his white waistcoat.
Ashiskissdeepened,Sarahfeltamindless urge to cleave to the strong, lean body imprisoning her. In no more than an instant, Stewart Chamberlain had brought her to a level of desire she had never known existed. Her eyes closed, and her entire body trembling with a mysterious anticipation, she was unaware that he had forsaken her lips and was carefully observing her reaction.
Stewart’s deep voice shocked her in that she felt the vibrations in his chest before she actually heard his words. “I believe I shall very much enjoy my stay here, Lady Sarah,” he crooned, his voice thick with desire. “We appear to have a great deal more in common than I would have expected only moments ago.”
With a horrified gasp and a backward lunge, Sarah fell away from the overpowering stranger. “You ... you ... ” she stammered, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. But her fevered brain was no help. With a strangled cry, she spun and flew toward the safety of the mansion, his gentle laughter ringing in her ears.
CHAPTER 3
Mortified by her capitulation, Sarah did not stop running until she had reached the safety of her candlelit bedroom on the second floor. She had taken the servants’ stairs to avoid notice, but from the laughter emanating from the ballroom, she knew that the party was far from over. She could tell that many of the remaining guests were well into their cups and the booming voice of her father proved he was regaling the hearty group with stories of his days at Court.
But there was no way she could rejoin the carefree throng. She could not bear to face Stewart Chamberlain again. Whatever had caused her to react so violently to the man, she wondered, pacing the pale rose and blue Aubusson rug beneath her feet. She was no stranger to a man’s attention, or even a stolen kiss in the garden. But never had she been so mesmerized by a man’s presence. Always she had remained cool and remote toward any would-be suitor, finding their interest in her disgustingly obvious and predictable.
But Stewart Chamberlain had found her weakness – in more ways than one. It was not until they had completed their interesting discussion that she realized what signals she must have been conveying to the rakish foreigner.
And now his kiss revealed that he planned to treat her like ... a woman, Sarah found herself thinking with a sudden clarity. Though Stewart had stolen a forbidden kiss in the garden, she was nonetheless giddy with the thought that he had, at first, seemed more interested in her mind, her wit, than her appearance. And she had responded to that with an enthusiasm that could only have encouraged him.
Quicklyremovingherdressanddonninga pristine nightgown, Sarah bathed her warm face in tepid water from the bowl Tegan had left for her. She t
hen removed the pins from her hair and began brushing the long silken tresses with a vigorousness that made her wince.
But even the slight pain could not take her mind from the man whose company she had so enjoyed. As she considered mentally which riding habit she might wear on the morrow, it was with amazement that despite his indiscretion, she was still eager to see him again. With a perplexed sigh, she threw back the rose coverlet from her wide four-poster bed and snuggled against the lacetrimmed pillows. Thinking how strange it was to be both frightened and excited about their next encounter, she willed herself to let sleep overtake her. But it was visions of the darkly handsome stranger that permeated her last conscious thoughts.
It seemed as though she had just fallen asleep when impatient hands were roughly shaking her. “Sarah, Sarah, wake up. Oh, please wake up! What are you doing in bed?” Through her sleepy fog, Sarah realized Juliana was tugging at her and she moaned as she tried to push her away.
“Julie, stop. Go away,” she mumbled, trying in vain to pull the covers over her face. “Lady Sarah Catherine Tremont,” Julie continued, seeming not to care that her sister had been fast asleep. “I have so much to tell you. When did you leave? I have been looking for you everywhere!”
Reluctantly, Sarah slowly propped herself up in bed, knowing that her sister would not go away. When Juliana had something to say, there was no chance it would go unheard. “What-what time is it?” she asked, rubbing her sleep-filled eyes.
“It’s 2 o’clock and I came to tell you that my party was a marvelous success,” Juliana answered brightly, flinging her pink-clad form unceremoniously on the bed. “I had the most exciting evening of my life and I simply must tell you about it. Why weren’t you there? Are you ill?”
“I-I was tired. Too much champagne, I guess,” Sarah said, yawning. “I had too much, too,” Juliana giggled, “but it made me feel wonderful and wicked. Oh you’ll never believe what happened tonight!” she cried, falling back on Sarah’s feet, stretching her petite body languorously.
Captives' Charade Page 2