Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. “Elisa, hush,” he said gently.
Nervously she moistened her dry lips.
“This is something you have not come to understand about me yet, sweet Elisa. I have been playing these games with these people and others of their ilk since childhood. It is as second nature to me as riding a horse. I know exactly how much I can dare under their noses and walk away with my reputation unscathed. I know to the inch. You must trust me in this.”
She looked down at her toes.
“Elisa, look at me,” he said, his voice low. “I cannot lift your chin for myself when every biddy in that conservatory is probably glued to the window, watching us.”
His insight made her smile a little and she looked up at him as requested.
There was not a hint of amusement on his face, however. “Understand this, my precious beauty. I would sooner shoot myself through the heart than risk you or your reputation. And I will take on any man who does.”
“Then you must take on the world.”
“Willingly,” he answered without hesitation. And he did not smile.
Her heart seemed to freeze for a tiny, shocked moment. She stared at him, unable to assemble a suitable response into words.
Then, finally, he smiled. “Come, we should start walking, or run the risk of shocking our audience.”
Elisa knew he was right. The conservatory jutted out into the garden and gave an all-round view of every path and bed. If they lingered too long in one spot or showed too much interest in each other and not enough for the beds and borders, it would be noted.
They had just stepped onto the cobblestone path when Natasha walked out onto the terrace with Elisa’s shawl draped over her arm.
“How convenient,” Elisa said under her breath.
Vaughn hissed under his breath. “No doubt her mother felt you would need your shawl, since it is the warmest day of the season.”
They both laughed and met Natasha with a smile. The younger woman’s cheeks were stained a bright pink. “Madam, my mother thought you would need this.”
How Elisa hated hearing the word madam from one so young. It made her feel ancient. “Thank you, Natasha.” She took the shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders, despite the fact she was not in the least cold. Natasha curtsied, then turned back toward the manor.
“Why don’t you be our guide?” Elisa suggested with a smile, ignoring the sidelong glance Vaughn threw her. “That is if you don’t mind…”
“I would love to!” Natasha exclaimed, with a glowing smile. The girl really was beautiful, Elisa thought with honest acknowledgement. Her skin was flawless, her features almost angelic. Truly, she and Vaughn were perfect for each other. They were equals in every way. Both young, both the offspring of the aristocracy and both with a physical beauty that bordered on breathtaking.
For the next quarter of an hour Elisa walked quietly beside Natasha as the young woman pointed to each plant and rattled off the Latin nomenclature as though she were reciting it from a book. Vaughn didn’t say a word, but Elisa could feel him watching her, could feel his impatience with every restless step he took.
“Is this not the most beautiful color?” Natasha asked, picking the best of the infamous purple roses. She handed it to Elisa. “For you. Perhaps you could keep it in remembrance of this day.” Natasha looked coyly at Vaughn.
Elisa couldn’t stand to be in their presence any longer.
“How lovely. Thank you, dear.” She pretended to stifle a yawn. “I do believe I’ll take a nap before tonight’s festivities,” she said, pulling the shawl tighter about her shoulders. She turned back toward the house.
“I can walk you,” Vaughn said quickly.
She shook her head. Those green eyes framed by long, dark lashes were dark with an emotion she knew well.
“That’s not necessary. You should stay with Natasha. I will see you both tonight.”
It was a way of telling him that whatever had happened between them would have to stay in the past. She had no place in his life. She, with her tarnished reputation, would be the ruin of him. Even if he truly wanted to, he could not take on the world for her sake. She would return to Farleigh hall, marry Rufus and wait for the one comfort left in her life: her son.
But first she must get through this evening.
As she settled into the chaise lounge to pass the afternoon away, waiting out her incarceration in this unfriendly place, she convinced herself the worst was over. Vaughn’s confidence assured her she had been making far too much of the little glances she had caught and she must have imagined the jibes and snubs of the morning. And her determination to keep Vaughn at arm’s length gave her a sense of righteousness.
She knew she could hold her head up amongst the guests at the ball with pride for she had chosen the virtuous course.
She had completely forgotten about the Duchess of Wessex…
Chapter Eleven
Vaughn barely heard, above the orchestra and the chatter, the grandfather clock at the bottom of the stairs strike ten o’clock. He hid his impatience by swallowing another mouthful of the lukewarm champagne. Where was she?
Since leaving Natasha and he in the garden, Elisa had not shown her face. Not at dinner, nor after in the parlor. Rufus had arrived promptly at seven, his voice rising above the others at the dinner table, but he made no apology for Elisa’s absence. Vaughn wondered if he had even noticed. He certainly didn’t appear to be perturbed by it.
Since arriving, Rufus had not attempted to speak to Vaughn.
Damn him to hell, Vaughn thought viciously. Then he mentally sighed. Why did he let it bother him so? The old man cared so little for him nothing he did seemed to have any impact at all, so why bother? It was a lost cause. Rufus was impervious.
Except when it came to Elisa.
That single exception truly puzzled Vaughn. He showed her less consideration than he did his port bottle and Vaughn was quite sure Rufus had never shown her any of the gentler emotions at all.
Was it simply that Rufus did not like the idea of anyone having Elisa if he could not? Was it that simple?
Or did he genuinely, secretly, care for her?
Annoyed that he was spending time thinking about a man who would sneer if he knew, Vaughn nodded toward a footman with a tray laden with glasses of whiskey. He exchanged his champagne glass for a tumbler of golden liquid.
“You had best slow down, boy, or you’ll be calling it a night before long.”
Vaughn turned to find Lord William Munroe at his side. The older man smiled easily and patted Vaughn on the back. “You’re not dancing tonight.”
“I will before the night is through.”
“My daughter will look forward to it.”
Vaughn suppressed another sigh. Innuendos had been flying since he arrived, and he knew by the end of the night all expected him to be formally courting Natasha. Perhaps that was why Munroe had searched him out—to give him a chance to make his case. He was being polite, however, and standing and watching the couples dancing a reel, leaving Vaughn to his thoughts.
Vaughn had been prepared to do whatever it took to stay at Fairleigh Hall, but did that mean he should submit to the pressure being exerted and formally court Natasha? His life had began to unravel a little since arriving here. He had come to claim Kirkaldy and instead found himself waylaid by a blonde beauty with troubled eyes. It would not be the first time he had been arrested by a pretty face, but if Elisa’s resistance had crumbled as most ladies’ resistances did when he applied himself, then it would simply have been a slight delay before returning to his original mission: Kirkaldy.
That ambition seemed far distant to him right now. For Elisa had resisted him, with far greater determination and doggedness than he had anticipated. And…he had not expected mad desires of his own to complicate the matter. It had become truly a personal challenge now.
How badly did he want to win Elisa? Enough to be a hypocrite and court Natasha? He feared that was what he mu
st do to justify staying on at Fairleigh Hall.
He thought of Elisa, bent over the desk, her flesh golden in the firelight as he had tasted and teased her. Her responses, so uninhibited, told him she could be an equal playmate. Imagining the potential scenarios that might spring from that partnership made his body tighten and his heart to speed up.
Who was he fooling? Elisa was worth any effort, any cost. He was involved now, and incapable of disengaging until he had taken his sweet prize.
So be it.
But he could not quite bring himself to begin the conversation with his host that would formalize a courtship with Natasha.
Then Elisa arrived and scattered all his thoughts to the wind.
If he’d not known better, he’d have guessed she had hidden herself away all day, and timed her arrival at the ball just to plague him. But Elisa was incapable of that sort of teasing.
Nevertheless, her entrance did not go unnoticed.
She paused at the top of the stairs. Vaughn was quite sure she paused to calm her nerves before entering into the fray amongst the many women here tonight who wore their claws behind perfect manners and polite smiles. But to the world it would seem she had paused for effect.
The effect was worth it.
She was dressed in cream-colored silk. In the candlelight, the silk took on a bright burnish. With her golden curls and flawless skin, she glowed like the sun. Her hair was piled in sophisticated curls on top of her head, but small curlicues were escaping, giving her face an innocent expression.
Not so her gown. The style was shockingly daring in a season when women seemed to be competing with each other to be more conservative than the next. Her shoulders were completely bare—the sleeves of the gown began further down her arms to blossom into the very full style that was popular right now. The neckline swooped, revealing the tops of her creamy breasts and nestled between them was a diamond pendant.
Vaughn took a deep breath, controlling the desire that raged through him. It was a wonder every man in the hall didn’t trip over himself for looking at her. His own hands itched to slide around her tiny waist and pull her to him, to crush her with a kiss that left her panting and her lips swollen.
She walked slowly down the stairs and Vaughn found himself following her as she made her way across the hall to the ballroom doors.
Inside, she looked around and found Rufus, who sat in a high-backed chair. There was a seat beside him and she took it, folding her hands in her lap. He could sense her nervousness had increased. Her color was a little pale, her shoulders tense.
And he knew why.
Rufus kept her closeted up in the manor, keeping her away from the society that had turned its back on her and this was the first time she had ventured out among those people since her husband’s death.
“She’s a vision, is she not?”
Vaughn had forgotten for an instant that Natasha’s father had been standing beside him. He must have followed Vaughn across the room. He turned with a smile. “Yes, my father is a very fortunate man.”
“I’ve always liked Elisa. She has a good heart. Too bad about her past, though, hmmm?”
Vaughn knew full well William had had more than one affair in his younger years. He had obviously been forgiven his excesses, yet he was not willing to offer the same forgiveness to a woman.
“She did nothing that deserves a lifetime of banishment,” Vaughn answered and was annoyed with himself for rising to the bait. What would come next? Would he find himself championing Elisa, just as he had teased her he would this morning?
William’s brows furrowed into a frown. “She caused her husband’s death.”
Then Vaughn understood. It was all right for a man to indulge in wild ways and excesses, even to the point of being called out. Eventually, after a few years of discreet behavior, he would be forgiven his sins and it would all be wiped off as a younger man’s adventures. But a woman would never be forgiven such transgressions. In the eyes of the world it was Elisa’s fault her husband had died.
“That is utterly ludicrous,” Vaughn responded, stung to it by the unfairness of the man’s prejudice. “Her husband was in dalliance with the wife of the Minister of Defense and he had to save face. Was the Minister supposed to ignore the cuckolding?”
William raised an eyebrow. “I did not mean to offend you. Please accept my apology.”
Unfortunately, the apology came too late. Vaughn’s anger was reaching a fever pitch. “Why is it that Elisa should suffer a lifetime for her husband’s inability to keep her happy? Has she not paid by suffering through humiliation of losing her husband because of an illicit affair?”
William was silent for a long moment. “You sound very passionate about the topic,” he finally remarked. “Which I can only attribute to the fact that you accept her as a good mate for your father.”
Vaughn took Williams’ words as a warning—he must not appear too interested in Elisa. The man suspected something and if he suspected, then no doubt many others did as well.
He shrugged. “Naturally, I have a peripheral concern for the woman. What if it were Natasha it had happened to?”
William’s expression hardened immediately. “My daughter would never be so scandalous.”
“What if her husband turned out to be a letch? What if she tried to make him happy, doing anything and everything to please him, even taking on some of his addictions, hoping to win his favor, but to no avail?”
William turned a bright, furious red and began to sputter.
“Hello, Father. I hope I am not interrupting…?”
William’s smile recovered as he looked at his daughter. “Why, Natasha, my dear. We were just talking about you.”
She dimpled prettily. “That explains why I could not catch Vaughn’s eye from across the room. He was listening to you boasting about me, Daddy.”
Vaughn clenched his jaw to hide his irritation. Then he remembered he had a role to play. He extended his hand toward Natasha.
“Would you care to dance?”
Her answering smile was dazzling and as she put her gloved hand into his, she shot her father a triumphant look.
As they gained the dance floor, the music changed from a quadrille to a waltz. Vaughn took Natasha in his arms. He was a little surprised when she tried to press against him and locked his arms against the provocative move.
“I thought you would never dance this evening,” Natasha said, looking up at him with wide eyes, her ringlets swinging.
“I didn’t have the opportunity to ask you before,” he said, feeling like a cad for lying. “Besides, I wanted all the other men to have a chance to dance with you before I monopolized your time.”
Her answering smile was luminous and Vaughn found himself smiling in response. Natasha was surprisingly vain at times—she preferred she, and only she, be the focus of the conversation. It made his chore easier. He would have been taxed far more if he’d had to spend his time talking about himself.
He glanced towards Elisa.
She was watching him. Rufus was in conversation with a group of gentlemen to his left, while she sat unattended and silent in the same seat, clearly forgotten.
Vaughn’s fury grew. He looked away for a moment, scouring the crowd. There was a group of women nearby, including Caroline Munroe. The hostess was fanning herself vigorously, her head bent as she spoke amongst the women, who watched Elisa with varying degrees of distaste. Amongst them was the scornful redhead, the Duchess of Wessex.
Vaughn spun Natasha in a circle and looked back to Elisa. She had seen the direction of his gaze, then, for she looked to the woman, then back at him.
For a fraction of a moment, Elisa’s polite mask slipped. Vaughn saw bewilderment, hurt and a deep unhappiness pass across her face. She dropped her chin to stare at her hands folded demurely in her lap to hide it.
Bitter, black fury swamped him. He wanted to stalk over to the women bunched about the fireplace and scatter them like a wolf amongst chickens, give them
a fright they’d not soon forget.
Every man here who looked down his nose at her—Vaughn wanted to take each one by the scruff of the neck and shake them until they saw sense.
He wanted to do something, anything, to take away that hurt, haunted look in her eyes.
And he could do nothing.
Nothing.
He was forced to dance with the girl in his arms. He must pretend he cared as little as the rest of them lest his interest in Elisa be revealed, and put her in far greater jeopardy.
His helplessness ate at his gut. For the first time in his life he railed at the unbending forces of a society in which he had always found such a comfort.
Elisa’s cheeks grew hotter with every moment she sat alone on the straight-backed chair. Rufus had not paused to even acknowledge her presence. And now Vaughn had turned away from her, too involved with his pretty dance partner to see she desperately needed his company.
The Duchess of Wessex had taken her revenge for Elisa’s failure to leave the dinner table last night and she was feeling the full effects of it now.
Oh, how she yearned to stand up and tell them all the truth—that her only indiscretion had been loving a man who had clearly despised her, preferring the company of his whores and ignoring his wife and only son. Roger’s gossip had taken on a life of its own when he had started the rumors of her liaisons, all of which were fabricated to cover the truth that he was the drunk, the gambler and the philanderer.
When Elisa had stepped out of her room and made her way down to the first floor, she noticed all the people wandering about the manor house. She traversed the very wide corridor, taking in the majestic art, hand-carved chairs and ornate sideboards and settees. Then she made the mistake of looking from a beautiful tapestry to a woman and her escort. The woman’s taken-aback expression made Elisa wonder if her dress was somehow indecent. Looking straight ahead, Elisa forced herself to focus on the night ahead and ignore the whispers behind hands and fans that rippled ahead of her down the passage.
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