Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens)

by Templeton, Julia

  Vaughn understood her incredulity. Rufus did not invite anyone over. Usually the neighbors arrived and he “rested” while Elisa entertained.

  “Is it not the polite thing to do when a neighbor comes calling?”

  “They have been here all afternoon.”

  He shrugged. “I thought you would enjoy their company.”

  This was met by more silence.

  Vaughn suppressed a smile. The air of injured pride in her upturned nose and down-turned mouth must surely mean he was beginning to break down the impervious barrier she had erected against his advances.

  When they arrived at her room they both reached for the handle at the same time, their hands brushing against each other. He heard her quick intake of breath but she didn’t remove her hand, or pull away.

  He wove his fingers through hers. They were such small hands, so dainty and feminine. Everything about her was fragile.

  “Thank you for walking me to my room,” she said stiffly, opening the door.

  He let his hand fall away. “My pleasure.”

  She stared straight ahead. But there was a fine gold ringlet brushing the nape of her neck he longed to brush aside. “Rest. Recover,” he told her. Then he gave into temptation and slid his hand beneath the curl. His fingertips grazed her skin and she quivered. His body tightened up at that minute sign of responsiveness. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to her ear. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” he breathed and kissed the tender flesh just below her ear. He was rewarded when he felt a deep, bone-jarring tremble through her. But she kept her head averted. She remained silent and her silence was a challenge.

  He slid his hand around her tiny waist and pressed gently. “Ah, Elisa, you deny me still,” he said with mock despair, as he felt the corset beneath.

  “Let me go,” she breathed.

  “Certainly,” he agreed, dropping his hand.

  “Thank you.” She stepped into the room and turned to grasp the door handle. Her gaze at last met his. Those big blue eyes seemed almost luminous. Vaughn felt his heart give a little skip.

  Slowly she closed the door and still he didn’t move.

  “Sweet dreams, my lady,” he whispered. The door finally closed.

  He smiled at the door, knowing she still stood there on the other side. Was her hand on the wood as his was now? Did her heart pound like his with the anticipation of what was to come?

  Hearing footsteps behind him, he dropped his hand and turned to find Marianne watching him. The maid’s mouth was in a grim line as she walked toward him. He read a number of warnings in that stare.

  He knew the Frenchwoman cared deeply for Elisa and it was patent she didn’t like him.

  “Good afternoon, Marianne,” he said, reinforcing the greeting with a smile.

  The maid did not smile back.

  * * * * *

  Elisa woke late. Marianne stood over her, a cup of tea in her hand.

  “My lady, dinner has already begun. I thought you were awake when last I came in or I would have never left.”

  “Oh, goodness,” Elisa said, sitting up quickly.

  “His lordship is asking for your presence. Quickly, get up and I will help you dress.”

  Rufus would be furious.

  Her heart thumping erratically, Elisa climbed from the bed. She glanced at the Ormulu clock on the mantle and groaned under her breath. Though she had slept for three hours, it felt like only minutes. And now she was late and Rufus would not let her forget it.

  Elisa took the teacup and drained the lukewarm tea with a grimace while Marianne scurried about, pulling out underclothes, a fresh corset, choosing a gown. Then she put the cup and saucer down and stripped off the bed gown as Marianne held out the clean chemise.

  Within quarter of an hour she was dressed. There had been no time for any decisions and she realized the gown Marianne had picked was more daring than Elisa was used to wearing. It was a deep vibrant blue water-washed satin creation she’d had made just before Roger’s death—when she’d hoped an alluring gown would help their relationship ease a little, when all her hopes for a happy marriage had not been completely dead. The bodice and waist were tight and Marianne had laced her accordingly, lifting her breasts high. As a consequence, the low neckline showed much more of her breasts than usual. The gown barely skimmed the edges of her shoulders, and the big bell sleeves seemed to threaten to pull the gown from them altogether, although her corset and the tight bodice in fact assured the gown would not slip to reveal more than it should.

  The layers of petticoats beneath let the wonderful material fall in ruffles and ripples that showed off the moiré effect and when she walked the very slight train pulled the skirts back, fanning them and displaying the fabric to best effect.

  While Elisa stared at herself in the mirror, wondering how she dared appear in such a gown and knowing she had no time to change, Marianne piled her curls on top of her head and pinned them with artistic flare, leaving her neck and shoulders completely bare. She slid diamond drop pendant earrings onto her ears and stood back, her head tilted, waiting for Elisa’s approval.

  “Thank you for your help,” Elisa murmured.

  “They’ll be just starting the soup, ma’am. You had better be on your way.”

  “Yes,” Elisa agreed distantly. Her heart was starting to thump. What would Vaughn think of this daring ensemble?

  Together, they walked down to the marbled entrance hall, as Marianne would be going to the back of the house for her own meal.

  At the bottom of the stairs, as Elisa turned to the dining room, Marianne touched her wrist. “My lady…”

  “What is it?”

  Marianne licked her lips nervously. “My lady, I would warn you of master Vaughn. I see what is happening. I see what is in his eyes, in his mind. And I am afraid.”

  “Afraid?” Elisa was a little surprised. She could understand someone fearing Rufus, but Vaughn? “He would not hurt me,” she responded.

  “Perhaps not physically, my lady. But there are other ways of hurting a person. Forgive me, my lady, but I thought I should warn you.”

  The maid’s eyes were pleading and though Elisa felt warmed by Marianne’s concern, she also resented it. Granted, she did not use her head when in Vaughn’s presence, but she was a woman of nearly thirty years and she could do what she wanted, with whom she wanted. Elisa patted her maid’s hand. “Thank you for the warning, but I do realize my own folly. He is better suited to someone younger. Someone who has not been jaded by all she has seen and heard. Someone like Natasha. I believe I was merely lonely for companionship and he is my friend.”

  Marianne looked relieved. She gave a slight nod and moved off down the corridor that eventually led to the kitchen.

  Elisa walked the few steps to the dining room doors and stopped. Inside she could hear both feminine and masculine laughter. She straightened her spine. Tonight would be difficult, but she would get through it. After all, there were only five of them. A small gathering and at least Caroline was here to keep her occupied. She could not—she would not—start looking at Caroline as the enemy.

  As for Vaughn…

  Her heart thumped again and she could feel the weakening waves of longing already beginning to wash through her. Excitement burrowed deep into her belly. Would he like her gown? Would his eyes narrow when he saw her for the first time and his attention be pulled away from the woman-child next to him?

  Her courage buoyed by a wicked anticipation, Elisa turned the handle and stepped inside, her head high.

  Chapter Six

  As soon as she stepped into the dining room, she looked for Rufus. Anger darkened his face immediately and she found herself coming to an unsure halt just inside the door. Fear rippled through her.

  Then she saw Vaughn and realized her unplanned halt afforded him a long moment in which to study her fully. And he was, indeed, studying her from top to toe. She found her shoulders were straightening and her heart picking up speed.

  Then
she realized everyone was watching her, including Natasha, who sat with a forkful of food halfway between plate and mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  Was her appearance so dramatically different it deserved such silent consideration. She brushed at the satin with a hand suddenly damp, smoothing the skirt down unnecessarily and swallowed on a throat gone dry. “Forgive my lateness, please,” she murmured. “I fell asleep.”

  Vaughn got to his feet and came toward her, a slow, appreciative smile on his face that only she could see. He picked up her hand and bowed low over it. “My lady, allow me,” he said, offering his arm to take her to her place at the table.

  Rufus’ wine glass hit the tabletop with a loud, wet thud, and he cleared his throat with a harsh, vicious sound. Elisa’s heart jumped once again, fear squeezing her throat.

  Vaughn laid his hand over hers on his arm. It looked like a perfectly normal, natural action, but the slight pressure on her fingers relayed a message just for her, a reassurance in the face of Rufus’ choler. He was wordlessly telling her everything would be fine.

  He seated her without another word and went back to his side of the table, next to Natasha.

  Caroline was on her right. Elisa looked at her friend, avoiding Rufus’ furious face. Caroline smiled warmly. “You look beautiful, Elisa. Is that a new dress?”

  “Yes, I had it made not long ago,” Elisa lied with only a small hesitation, then turned to Rufus with a purposeful smile. This seemed to bring relief for he nodded, looking pleased that she’d had the dress made for him.

  Elisa’s cheeks grew warm and she reached for her glass and took a drink of the cool lemon water. She could feel Vaughn’s stare on her from the opposite side of the table. No doubt Rufus had seated him beside Natasha and across from Caroline to keep him away from her. It would be difficult to keep her gaze averted. His very presence seemed to draw her attention to him. She could feel him. She could feel him staring at her.

  “Yes, now I remember that dress.” Rufus said, his tone insinuating something sensual between the two of them.

  “I’m delighted you chose to wear it again,” Vaughn drawled.

  “Thank you,” Elisa replied.

  His white shirt was daringly open at the collar, covered by a navy waistcoat with shards of silver running throughout. His hair was slightly mussed. Elisa wondered if he had been riding while she slept. He seemed to crackle with energy and life, just as he had when they had gone riding yesterday.

  The reminder of what had happened at the pond made her breasts ache and she grew moist, almost instantly ready.

  Had Natasha gone riding with him?

  Pain lanced through her at the thought.

  A loaded plate was placed in front of her and everyone’s attention was drawn back to the meal. The conversation gradually picked up again, leaving Elisa to her own thoughts. Vaughn was once again a captive audience, attentive to every vacant word Natasha uttered. The dinner dragged on relentlessly.

  Caroline began a conversation with Vaughn, drilling him for information about his future plans. Natasha, meanwhile, hung on every word.

  Which left Elisa to Rufus’ dubious company.

  “Why are you wearing such a lavish gown tonight?” he asked, his words little above a whisper.

  Elisa dropped her hands to her lap and dug her fingernails into her palms. She said nothing.

  “I wonder…do you seek the attention of someone here?”

  Elisa looked directly at Rufus. “Marianne laid it out for me. As I mentioned before, I slept and when I awoke there was little time to do anything but don a gown that had already been pressed.” She sighed heavily. “I thought the gown would please you,” she lied. “If it doesn’t, then I’ll go and change at once.”

  He watched her intently and she forced herself to keep eye contact. She could hear nothing over the beating of her heart as he stared.

  Ever so slowly his expression changed, no longer hard and quizzing, but instead full of fondness.

  She would never understand his moods. Ever. At times, when he offered her nothing but curses and accusations, she despaired that the impending wedding would be called off and she would be cast aside once more. Then, unexpectedly, he would display a small sign of some gentler emotion, and she would again wonder why he had sought her hand in marriage. He had professed a need for companionship, nothing more, when he had proposed.

  Finally, his attention shifted back to his plate and he attacked the large helping of gravy-covered ham upon it.

  Her appetite was nonexistent, but she ate anyway, knowing if she didn’t Rufus would comment on it.

  For the remainder of the meal Caroline spoke of the new Limoges china set her husband had arranged to be shipped from France for her. William had commissioned the pattern to be designed especially for her and stamped with the family crest.

  Elisa envied her friend for her happy marriage. Caroline and William apparently deeply loved each other and went to great effort to show it.

  On the contrary, Elisa had found in her experience that the fantasy of marriage was far better than the reality.

  Natasha’s laughter sounded often. It was an irritating, light trill that filled the room. Natasha and Vaughn were again whispering to each other. Natasha leaned a little closer and rudely whispered behind her hand. Vaughn’s brows raised a little and he threw his head back and laughed loudly, plainly delighted.

  Elisa abruptly stood, the back legs of her chair scraping across the floor beyond the rug.

  Vaughn looked up from his conversation and Caroline lifted her eyebrows.

  “Elisa?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

  “Please excuse me for a moment.” The words were all she could manage.

  Rufus merely nodded, too preoccupied with his dessert to speak.

  Elisa glanced at Vaughn as she turned from the table. His eyes were narrowed, his expression a reflective one. Natasha was already reaching for his forearm to gain back his attention.

  Elisa gritted her teeth and hurried from the room. She was barely to the stairs when she called for Marianne. One of the footmen from the dining room went scurrying for the kitchen—perhaps he could read her impatience, her fury, in the imperious ring of her voice, for he went to fetch Marianne without waiting to be sent.

  Elisa strode to her room, pounding out her frustration with every step. She burst into the room and came to a halt, looking around wildly.

  She would show Vaughn the shallowness and predictability of the company he had chosen to keep tonight. She would show him the unexpected depths he had foregone for the sake of Natasha’s off-key nasal twittering. Elisa reached for the closures at the back of her dress.

  Marianne hurried into the room, breathless, her eyes wide. “Madame?”

  “Get this off me. Hurry,” Elisa said, tugging at the hooks.

  “Off?”

  “Yes, off, damn it! I can’t take off my corset without first removing the dress!”

  “But…your corset, madam?” Marianne appeared truly bewildered.

  “It is pinching me and I can scarcely draw breath,” Elisa said without hesitation. “Hurry!”

  “At once,” Marianne said, her fingers reaching for the hooks and nimbly releasing them, one after another. Together they lowered the dress and released the ties on the petticoats enough to undo the corset and pull it away from her body. Elisa plucked at the chemise she wore beneath. “It is soaked through,” she declared and took it off.

  “Madam!” Marianne breathed, deeply shocked.

  “Who will know?” Elisa said, retying the petticoats around her waist, her bare breasts free of restrictions. “Hurry, please, Marianne. Rufus is already furious at my delayed arrival. This interlude will anger him all the more.”

  The implied threat was enough to get Marianne moving again. She re-fastened the petticoats, and pulled the satin gown back up onto Elisa’s shoulders. With deft fingers she began re-hooking the back closed.

  The touch of satin against her brea
sts was shocking and…delicious. Without the confining structure of her corset, the plunging décolletage felt dangerously wicked and insecure. A sweet ache began in her cleft at the thought of Vaughn’s expression when he realized she had taken her corset off.

  Marianne stepped back and waited.

  “Thank you, you may go,” Elisa told her, running her hands down the sensuous satin bodice, feeling her bare skin beneath.

  “Madam?”

  “I said go!”

  “At once,” Marianne replied and hurried from the room.

  Elisa waited until she heard the maid’s footsteps pattering down the hallway, then reached beneath her skirts and took off her drawers, too.

  With a deep breath, she turned and headed back downstairs, feeling the freedom and sinful bareness of her body beneath the gown with every step.

  The double doors loomed before her. She swallowed. Dare she go through with this?

  Suddenly, a hand snaked out from behind one of the pairs of pillars in the foyer and snagged her wrist.

  She stifled her gasp when she saw it was Vaughn, standing behind the pillar. He put a finger to his lips and pulled her towards him, closer and closer, until she was pressed up against his hard body. In the dim light his eyes glittered with an intense light.

  She swallowed hard and looked up into his handsome face.

  “I was beginning to worry,” he said, his breath warm against her cheek. His hands came up around her waist and pressed against the material.

  Suddenly, he became very still. His breath was expelled gustily.

  Elisa glanced over her shoulder. She was very much afraid. If they were caught in such a compromising situation… “Vaughn, we cannot…not here.”

  Vaughn stepped backwards, pulling her between the white columns, so they would be hidden from all…but it was still far too public a place. He turned her around so his back was to the entrance, which hid her a little.

  “And I cannot walk away when I know that beneath this magnificent gown you are completely bare.” His hands swept up her bodice and she could feel their heat through the fabric, burning her. They stopped short of her breasts, and a little sigh of frustration escaped her.