“Good.” She roused herself and ran her fingers through his hair. “Let’s ready for dinner?”
He nodded and happily followed his wife’s order.
* * * *
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity for Becca. Geoffrey took her riding in Hyde Park and they went calling together.
“Geoffrey?” she asked him as they rode back to the townhouse one afternoon.
“Yes, love?” he answered, taking her hand.
“Why is it we have yet to call on your friends?”
“Which friends, Becca?”
Her mouth quirked in a half-smile. “The gentlemen who called on your mother and myself.”
With a playful growl, he gathered her into his arms. “I refuse to watch my friends drool over my lovely wife.”
“Don’t be silly. They were merely paying their respects.”
He said nothing to that, but she didn’t think he believed her.
The night of the Winslow bash arrived. Becca was very nervous to attend her first ball. She very nearly burst into tears when Geoffrey asked her if she’d be ready on time. After dropping a kiss on her brow, he thankfully left her to her own devices while he readied himself for the function.
She sat and fidgeted as Mary tugged on her heavy curls. She turned to dismiss the girl but finally permitted her to work her magic on the glossy mass.
When Mary announced that she’d finished, Becca looked in the mirror and gasped. Long tendrils curled down her back from the nape of her neck, while shorter ones framed her face.
“Mary, it looks wonderful. Even better than it did on my wedding day.”
Mary smiled and twitched a ribbon in place. She’d located thin ribbons the exact shade of blush pink as Becca’s gown and had twined them through her black curls.
Becca turned her head this way and that, marveling at Mary’s handiwork. “You’re a treasure, Mary.”
“Thank you, my lady.” She went into Becca’s dressing room to retrieve her mistress’s gown.
Geoffrey walked out of his dressing room then, looking extremely striking in his black, formal attire and white shirt and cravat.
Becca turned when she heard him. “Geoffrey, you will drive the ladies mad this evening.”
He flashed a dazzling smile, which made her heart skip a beat. He crossed to her. “There is but one lady I wish to drive mad.” He kissed her lightly. “You’re breathtaking, love.”
She blushed at that. She noticed then that he carried a velvet jewelry box. “What is this, Geoffrey?”
“This, darling, is the finishing touch to your attire this evening.” He placed the box on the vanity. “You did say your dress was pink, yes?”
She nodded, staring as he opened the box. Inside lay a pearl choker, the pearls as big as a child’s marbles. Matching earrings accompanied the necklace.
“Oh, my!”
He took the choker from the box and draped it around her neck, fastening it in the back. He dropped a kiss on her nape, sending a shiver through her.
She glanced in the mirror, her fingers fondling the round pearls. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
“No, Becca,” he stated, catching her eye in the mirror. “You’re beautiful.”
She turned around and he kissed her thoroughly. He straightened then and tugged at his cravat, breathing a sigh. “Are you nearly ready, love?” he asked.
She nodded and he told her he’d wait for her downstairs. Mary returned with the daring gown and Becca stepped into it. She still wasn’t very comfortable wearing such a revealing dress, but Lady Margaret assured her that it was stunning and just perfect for her. She stepped into the matching satin slippers and pulled on long gloves of satin in a matching shade of pale pink. Mary brought one of the long curls forward to rest against her breast. Becca giggled at her image. “Well, at least something is covering my bosom, Mary.”
“My Lady, you look like a princess, you surely do!” Mary said, her expression solemn.
Becca hugged the girl. “Thank you, Mary.”
Mary sniffed. “Now, off you go.”
Becca nodded happily and followed her orders.
Geoffrey stood in the foyer with John and Patricia. Lady Margaret joined them just as Becca began her descent. Geoffrey turned with a smile. The expression left his face as his mouth gaped open. She smiled at his reaction.
“My God, Becca. You look ….” His eyes narrowed on her daring bodice. “You’re not leaving the house in that dress.”
Becca started, “But I—”
“Geoffrey,” Lady Margaret stated calmly. “I helped Rebecca choose this gown and I believe she looks enchanting.”
“Ravishing, more like,” John put in. “Well done, Mother.”
Patricia glared at him and Becca felt a flush spread upward from her chest to her cheeks.
Geoffrey furrowed his brow in their direction, then let out a breath. He crooked his arm for her to grasp. As they left the house, he bent his head to hers. “When we return, I’ll take this dress off you, Becca,” he promised in a whisper. “And you will love every moment.”
Becca felt her cheeks flame at what he was suggesting, causing him to laugh softly in her ear. The party boarded the carriage, bound for the Winslow ball.
Chapter 14
Many carriages lined the drive in front of the Winslows’ large home. Liveried attendants assisted the guests down, directing them into the large foyer. Geoffrey held tightly to Becca’s elbow as they made their entrance. They were received by the hostess, a somewhat plain woman with a pleasant smile who looked to be nearly Lady Margaret’s age. Geoffrey introduced his wife, and the couple made their way to the ballroom.
When they entered the large room, most of the guests were milling about and chatting. Becca clutched at Geoffrey’s arm, nervous once more.
He caught the action and placed his hand over hers. “You have nothing to fear, love.”
She nodded, swallowing. They stepped down into the throng and were immediately joined by several of Geoffrey’s friends.
“Kane!” a brown-haired man exclaimed. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Yes,” another offered, this one blond. “We haven’t seen you or your lovely wife since you arrived in town.”
Geoffrey smiled crookedly. “I noticed your cards missing from the salver. No doubt Roberts told you I wasn’t in to receive?”
They laughed, their gazes shifting to Becca.
“Gentlemen, this is my wife, Rebecca.” Geoffrey nodded to her. “Becca, allow me to introduce the Earl of Chester and Viscount Leed.”
“Lady Kanewood, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lord Leed, the brown-haired gentleman offered, grasping her hand lightly and bringing it to his lips. His blue eyes were darker than Geoffrey’s.
Becca curtsied. “Lord Leed.”
“Lady Kanewood, a pleasure.” Chester turned to Geoffrey, his brown eyes still on Becca. “Kane, where did you find this ravishing creature?”
“Yes,” Leed added. “I hear you found her in the country? Perhaps I should leave town during the Season, as well.”
Geoffrey laughed at their jests, and turned to lead Becca from them. “Chester, may I have a word later?”
The blond-haired man arched his brows in mild curiosity. “Certainly.”
“What was that about?” Becca asked.
“Chester is a long-time friend, love. I thought to get his opinion on the situation of which we spoke.” Geoffrey found a few vacant chairs well away from the orchestra and urged her to sit. “I shall return with some refreshment.”
Becca sat and was soon surrounded by gentlemen, several she recognized from their calls at the townhouse. They asked after Geoffrey, who soon returned with a glass of punch in his hand.
“Hello, gentlemen,” he said, his tone tight.
They nearly fell over themselves clearing a path for him. He stood beside her chair, a hand placed possessively on her shoulder. Most of the men bade the couple farewell though some of the yo
unger ones stayed. Geoffrey’s scowl finally scattered them.
Becca sipped at her punch as she glanced about the room. “What a wonderful party.”
“Yes, love.” He gazed across the ballroom. “Do you mind if I have a word with Chester? It has to do with the matter we discussed.”
“Certainly.”
He kissed her lightly and crossed the large room to speak with the blond-haired gentleman.
“Enjoying yourself, Rebecca?” a masculine voice said to her right.
Becca gave a start. Turning, she saw John sitting next to her. “Yes, John. It’s a lovely affair.”
He nodded, his eyes sparkling. “Would you care to dance, sister?”
She hesitated, then spotted Geoffrey across the way, deeply embroiled in a conversation with two men now. She shrugged and placed her hand in John’s.
John guided her out onto the dance floor, keeping a proper distance between them as he led her about the room. He smiled down at her. “You look very beautiful tonight, Rebecca.”
“Thank you.”
He pulled her a bit closer, his thighs brushing hers through her heavy skirt. The hand he held on her waist began to curve around to the small of her back, pressing her closer still. She stiffened. Surely this wasn’t proper. She began to pull away just as the music came to an end and John bowed to her. “Thank you for the dance.” He escorted her to her chair. “I believe I’ll go in search of my wife.”
Becca had just settled back down when a young, red-haired man stood in front of her. She looked up at him and smiled.
He bowed to her. “Forgive me, Lady Kanewood. I know we haven’t been introduced.”
“I’m sure it’s all right.”
He nodded and smiled. “I’m Gilly McClair.” He had a nice smile and a pleasant burr in his speech.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. McClair.”
“Please forgive my forwardness, but I had to speak to you,” he added. “May I join you?”
She nodded and he sat. He turned to her, gazing at her strangely, until he smiled at her once more.
“Lady Kanewood, you bear a striking resemblance to Laird McClair’s wife. Have you ever been to Scotland?”
“No, I haven’t. But I hear it’s just lovely.”
“Aye, that it is. McClair is my cousin, and lord of our clan. His wife has the same raven-black hair as yours and is very like you in features.” He paused. “His lady is also very beautiful.”
Becca blushed at the man’s compliment. She spotted Geoffrey coming toward them, a puzzled frown on his face. When he reached them, Becca introduced Mr. McClair.
Geoffrey nodded curtly at the gentleman.
“’Twas a pleasure meeting you, Lord Kanewood. Lady Kanewood.” Gilly frowned for a moment, then his eyes widened. “I know what was puzzling me!” He grinned. “Lady Charlotte’s eyes are blue, not green. Well, good evening.”
Becca gripped the seat of her chair. It couldn’t be.
“What is it, Becca?” Geoffrey asked, his brow furrowed.
She shook her head, a thin smile on her face. “Nothing, Geoffrey,” she assured him. “I suppose I’m just a bit hungry.”
He led her into the supper room. After making sure she’d eaten a few bites, he kissed her on her temple. “You had me worried, love.”
“I’m fine, really. But when Gilly McClair mentioned Lady Charlotte ….”
Geoffrey had missed her exchange with the Scotsman. She told him what the man had said, about her strong resemblance to Laird McClair’s wife.
“She must be a very beautiful woman,” he said.
She waved away his compliment. “Her name is Charlotte, Geoffrey. That was my late mother’s name. What do you think that means?”
“Was your mother Scottish?”
She blinked. “No.”
He shrugged “Then I imagine it’s simply a coincidence.”
She nodded, placating him. Maybe there was a connection, despite what Geoffrey said. Perhaps she’d find a way to know her mother after all, even if it was through a distant relative. She put this remarkable new information aside for now, however. There was far more to concern her at present. She would do nothing to shame Geoffrey or his mother, or make them regret their faith in her. Her nerves would only allow one concern at a time.
A while later, they returned to the ballroom. Geoffrey led Becca over to where his mother sat and left them to have a word with Lord Chester. A scant five minutes later, a familiar face smiled down at Becca.
“Lady Kanewood.” Viscount Roberts took her gloved hand in his, bringing it up to his lips. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Becca smiled up at him. “Hello, Lord Roberts.”
“May I beg Lady Margaret to release you so that we may share a dance?”
Becca looked at her mother-in-law, who nodded her encouragement. “Perhaps my son will realize he shouldn’t abandon you all evening.”
Becca laughed lightly and put her hand on Roberts’s offered arm. In the course of the dance, Roberts placed his hand on her waist. His other hand gripped hers as he danced her across the floor.
“Lady Kanewood,” he began. “May I call you Rebecca?”
“If you wish,” she answered.
He smiled winningly at her. “Rebecca, may I say that you look exquisite this evening.”
“Thank you, Lord Roberts.”
“Please. Call me Roberts.”
“All right.” She smiled. “Roberts.”
He leaned closer, brushing his cheek against her hair. The contact was brief, fleeting. He inched his hand upward, until it rested just beneath her breast and turned her a bit faster. The music pounded in Becca’s head and the room suddenly felt too hot.
His gray eyes showed concern. “You look flushed. May I suggest some fresh air?”
She nodded weakly and allowed him to lead her out onto the terrace. The cool night air did feel quite wonderful and she breathed in deeply.
“Are you feeling better?”
She turned to answer him, startled to find him standing so close to her. “Yes. I’m feeling much better now.”
She licked her lips in her nervousness and his eyes darkened.
“Good.” His voice sounded a bit husky. “I was quite worried about you.”
Becca blinked at the intensity in his gaze and took a step back from him. “How are you acquainted with my husband?” she asked, thinking to turn his attention.
“Kane and I worked together,” he answered. “For the government.”
The governement? Geoffrey had never mentioned it. Roberts trailed a finger down her cheek and grasped the thick curl resting on her breast. She opened her mouth to rebuff him when a large figure loomed in the doorway. Geoffrey! She breathed a sigh of relief until she saw the dark scowl on his face.
“What is going on out here?” He kept his voice low, his words, deliberate.
“Kane, there you are.” Roberts stepped back from Becca and smiled that damn charming smile at him. “Rebecca was feeling ill, so I thought she could use some fresh air.”
Rebecca? He’d seen how closely Roberts had held her on the dance floor, and how she’d reddened when the man touched her.
“Rebecca, I thank you for the dance and the conversation.” He sketched a bow. “Kane.”
As Roberts returned to the ballroom, Geoffrey studied his wife closely. Had she encouraged the viscount?
She grabbed onto his arm. “I’m so glad to see you.”
He held himself stiffly.
She pulled back, confused. “Is something the matter?”
He read the innocence in her beautiful eyes. She didn’t appear guilty of anything save naiveté.
He stroked her gloved hand and led her back to the ballroom. “Do you feel up to a dance, love?” he asked as they crossed the floor.
“Only with you, husband.”
Damn right. He led her out onto the dance floor, holding her a bit closer than was proper. He glanced down the daring bodice of her gown.
He could nearly see her nipples where they grazed the fabric. “My God, Becca,” he whispered. “I can see clear down the front of your gown.”
She blushed. “I had to leave off my chemise.”
He breathed in sharply. “Who else danced with you this evening?”
“Only Lord Roberts,” she answered. “And your brother.”
Geoffrey frowned at that. Knowing his brother, he must have taken full advantage of the enticing view. When the dance ended, they returned to Lady Margaret. “Mother, I believe my wife and I have had enough frivolity for one evening.”
“Is that so?” Lady Margaret smiled. “Very well.”
“I’ll send the carriage back for you and John and Patricia.”
“Thank you, Geoffrey.” Lady Margaret smiled at Becca. “Good night, dear.”
“Good night,” she returned.
They thanked their host and hostess and took their leave. As Geoffrey handed Becca into the carriage, he paused. “Take the long way home, Fields,” he instructed the driver.
“Yes, my lord.”
Geoffrey climbed into the carriage and settled himself close to his wife.
She snuggled against him. “I’d have liked to dance a bit more, husband.”
“Ah, wife. If we had gone on dancing, I fear I’d have taken you there in the ballroom.”
She reached up to caress his cheek. “I daresay I’d have permitted you.”
She rubbed her lips on his. She placed little kisses on his throat as she loosened his cravat, running her gloved fingers over his chest. His hands caressed her back as his passion built. She soon had his shirt unbuttoned and ran her lips over his skin. She reached the waistband of his breeches, noting his state of arousal through the black fabric.
She paused for a moment, then unfastened his breeches and grasped him gently. Her satin gloves were cool on his hot skin. He sighed and laid his head back against the cushion as her mouth took over for her hands.
“Ah, Becca.”
Her tongue stroked the length of him. When her lips closed over the tip, he nearly came off the seat. With a growl, he grabbed her and kissed her deeply. She climbed on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
More than Passion Page 11