‘This has all the makings of being an enjoyable evening,’ Grant commented, nodding pleasantly to those he knew.
Gliding beside him, Adeline gave him a sudden enchanting smile, determined to be friendliness personified where he was concerned for this one night. To be otherwise would spoil the party, and she did so want to have a good time. She could only hope that his restraint would continue and her resistance would not be tested. Just the memory of his kiss could sap the strength from her.
‘I do hope so. I can’t help thinking of my own engagement party when I thought I would marry Paul. It was nothing like this.’ Her eyes sparkled with excitement and delight. ‘Since coming to London I’ve done many varied and interesting things—but this is my first party, and I am wearing my first party gown, and I am determined to enjoy myself.’
Grant laughed, a throaty, contagious laugh, and his eyes suddenly seemed to regard her with a bold, speculative gleam. ‘Then we must make it a night to remember.’
Entering the large salon, they saw that it had been converted into a ballroom for the evening. Crystal chandeliers were suspended from an ornate ceiling, and gilt-framed mirrors reflected the dazzling kaleidoscope of jewellery and gowns. The older women were attired in rich colours, the younger ones in whites and creams and palest pinks. Everywhere there was the clink of glasses, the hum of conversation and the trill of laughter, and music rose and fell. It was an interesting gathering of society people, and others involved with Lady Stanfield’s work. Large doors opened out onto a spacious terrace hung with fairy lights, and in a room next door a buffet table groaned under the weight of delicious food.
Every gaze seemed to swivel their way, and Adeline had the disconcerting feeling that every person in that room was either looking at them or talking about them.
‘Is it my imagination, or is everyone staring at us?’ she whispered to her escort.
‘It isn’t your imagination.’ Turning slightly away from her, his expression pleased and confident, Grant scanned the crowded room. ‘Do you know anyone here?’
‘Yes, several. And you?’
‘A few.’
‘Then let’s circulate and relieve their curiosity.’ Taking a couple of glasses of sparkling champagne from a salver being carried by a passing footman, he handed one to her.
Taking a sip of the wine, and fortified by its potency, Adeline looked at him as he escorted her to the nearest group, feeling a glow of warmth infuse her whole being. He really did look breathtakingly handsome in his elegant black evening attire. It fitted his broad-shouldered figure to perfection. Women seemed to gravitate towards him—and little wonder, Adeline thought, seeing many women cast flirtatious glances his way. She sensed a jealous malevolence in their attitude to her. Seeing him like this, among the glittering members of society, admired and courted for his friendship and business acumen, she could hardly believe that this was the same man who had made love to her at Westwood Hall, and had played havoc with her senses and emotions ever since.
After exchanging greetings with those they knew, being introduced to others of note and drinking two more glasses of champagne, they found themselves alone.
Adeline sighed. ‘I’m sorry Lettie didn’t come. I know she was so looking forward to it before…well, before. I feel rather guilty being here enjoying myself, while Lettie is feeling so distressed.’
‘You may relax. Lettie wanted you to come, and she will hardly protest if you enjoy yourself, so there’s no reason to feel guilty. And the music is most entrancing.’ Seeing Anthony Stanfield and two other young gentlemen bearing down on them, with the obvious intention of asking Adeline to dance, Grant looked down at her. His gaze was slow and pointedly bold as he perused her soft and exquisite radiance. ‘Dance with me, Adeline,’ he said, taking her hand.
Her piquant denial was prepared, but the flowing, seductive strains of the music made Adeline want to move to its rhythm. For a breathless moment she envisaged herself in his arms, dancing with him. A thrill went through her, bringing a flush of colour to her cheeks, and she could no more deny the moment than ignore the hand of this man she held close to her heart.
Placing her hand in his, she smiled up at him. ‘I’d love to.’
His mouth tilted upward in a roguish grin, and the warm, glowing light in his eyes made her blood run warm. In fact, as she stepped onto the dance floor and he drew her into his arms, whirling her about in a wide sweep of the floor, she felt positively wicked. She was a woman who felt as if she were reborn, and here she was being envied by everyone here tonight for being with this man.
‘You dance divinely,’ Grant observed as she moved with that natural, fluid motion of hers. ‘You must have had a good instructor.’
She laughed lightly. ‘I did. That’s one thing my father insisted on. Apparently my mother was a good dancer.’
‘I see. And do you look like her?’
‘No. She was smaller than me, fair and very beautiful—whereas I am something of a curiosity in the family.’
He gave her a wicked smile. ‘I’m somewhat partial to curiosities.’
Adeline’s laughter bubbled to the surface like a subtle flowing stream through Grant’s mind, and its effect was devastating. The fact that he wanted her was becoming hard-pressing reality.
When the dance ended Lady Stanfield appeared beside them. ‘I’m glad to see the two of you enjoying yourselves—but you will dance with Marjorie, won’t you, Grant? She’s so glad you came, and she would like to talk to you about dear Lettie. Marjorie is going to miss her terribly, but I dare say she’ll be back in London before too long.’
‘I would think so. Lettie soon tires of the country, and as you know she is never happy unless she’s busy. It would be my pleasure to dance with Marjorie. I shall ask her to dance the next with me—another waltz, I believe—before the music starts.’ Excusing himself to Adeline, he disappeared into the throng.
Suddenly finding herself alone, Adeline was glad when Anthony appeared by her side. The celebration of his sister’s engagement had made him more inebriated than he had ever been in his life, and, emboldened by this, he had turned his eyes on the fair Adeline Osborne, whose outstanding skill with the sword had made him her adoring slave.
‘My God!’ he exclaimed with unconcealed admiration when he was standing directly in front of her. ‘You look ravishing, Adeline—although,’ he said, bending close and speaking in a teasing conspiratorial whisper, ‘I much prefer to see you in trousers. You have the most incredibly long legs—has anyone ever told you that?’
‘I know perfectly well how long my legs are, thank you, Anthony,’ she said jokingly. ‘I do see them every day, you know.’
Anthony burst out laughing. Taking her hand, he drew her into the buffet room. ‘I’m sorry, Adeline. I’m a bit tiddly, I’m afraid. But never mind. Come and meet my friends and have some more champagne, and we’ll be tiddly together.’
Adeline’s usually level head deserted her as she allowed him to lead her into the heart of a crowd of boisterous young people, all larking about, reclining on velvet-cushioned ottomans and having tremendous fun. Anthony handed her an over-large glass of the sparkling wine, which she drank faster than she ought, and for the next half an hour she joined in their high-spirits, making a spectacle of themselves.
She drank more champagne—far more than she was used to, and she would feel the effects later—laughed a good deal—causing heads to turn and look at her—and when Anthony pulled her onto the dance floor for a waltz it was anything but, because they polkaed about the floor.
When the music ended he danced her onto the terrace, and before Adeline had the faintest conception of what he would do, he had spun her round like a top, sending her reeling, then covered the distance he had opened between them. Catching her round the waist, he pressed his eager mouth passionately to hers.
Adeline was so astonished that for a moment she could not move. She had treated Anthony as a friend and had been having so much fun that she had scarc
ely noticed the adoring looks he gave her, but this was no boyish peck. It was a full blown man’s kiss, hot with desire, and when they finally drew apart he whispered, ‘I have wanted to do that from the moment I saw you,’ and kissed her again.
Adeline pushed him away, although her sensitivities were not offended. ‘Anthony, you must be mad. Please don’t do this. Stop it now.’
But she was unable to resist his arms, which seemed to be all over the place, and Anthony pulled her back, uttering a torrent of lover’s words against her cheek, his voice squashy with drink.
Again she shoved him away—as a voice spoke behind them.
‘Well, here’s a pretty spectacle.’
The voice was hard, the eyes, when Adeline turned to look, murderous and as hard as flint.
Grant stood rigid. His eyes were colder than ice and there was a thin white line about his mouth. How dared this youth kiss this lovely girl with her rosy cheeks and stars in her eyes—put his hands on what was…what should be Grant Leighton’s? Did he not think of her day in and day out? Did she not fill his head and his dreams? Did he not know what it was like to hold her in his arms and recognise in Anthony Stanfield what he himself felt? And could he blame him?
Dear Lord, what was wrong with him? How could he let a woman affect him as this one did? He wanted to reach out and punch young Stanfield in the mouth, fling him away from Adeline—which was so out of character. It was with a great effort of will that he managed to keep his emotions in check, his expression one of calm composure as he looked from one to the other.
Anthony, past all caution, and seeing nothing wrong with the situation, laughed—and instinct told Adeline she, too, had to make light of it. However, when she looked at Grant she squinted her eyes, seeing double. He was all a blur. She also felt giddy and rather strange.
‘Why, Grant, how stern you look. I can’t think why you should. Anthony and I weren’t doing anything wrong—in fact, Anthony feels he must kiss all the ladies present? Is that not so, Anthony?’ She giggled and hiccupped, and clutched at Anthony’s arm for support.
‘That’s right,’ Anthony mumbled, struggling to stand straight and beginning to look a bit green around the gills. His teeth felt as if they were afloat at the back of his mouth…he really must find somewhere to be sick. ‘Would you excuse me?’ he said, his voice straining with the effort. ‘I think I need to go somewhere.’
Adeline and Grant didn’t say a word as he weaved himself down the steps of the terrace and disappeared into the darkness of the garden, but Grant watched his departing figure with a mixture of pity, amusement and disgust. Despite the absurdity of it, he felt the first sharp twinge of jealousy in his adult life.
‘There goes a young man who will have one hell of a hangover in the morning.’
‘Poor Anthony. He really has drunk a lot of champagne—enough to sink a ship.’ Adeline looked at Grant and tried desperately to focus on his face. He was a dark, invincible figure, forbidding, intimidating, and yet strangely compelling. ‘Why did you come looking for me, Grant? Must you watch me so closely?’
Grant raised one black devil’s eyebrow. ‘I am your escort. I’m merely safeguarding your honour.’
Adeline giggled. ‘It’s a bit late in the day to defend my honour, Grant. You of all people should know that.’
‘You seem to be enjoying yourself,’ he commented, ignoring her statement for the time being.
‘I’m having a truly wonderful time. Really, Grant, do you have to look so—pompous, so aloof?’
Her reproof brought a scowl to his face. ‘Come inside and have something to eat.’
‘I’m not hungry, but I’d love some more champagne.’
‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’
Adeline looked at his face, which was a hard, angry mask. She frowned her annoyance. ‘Grant, there is one thing you should realise. My whole life has been one of compliance. I have never been able to please myself. And suddenly I feel like a bird that has been set free from its gilded cage,’ she said laughingly, throwing her arms wide to demonstrate the fact, and doing a rather wobbly twirl. ‘I am enjoying myself as I have never enjoyed anything in my life. Please don’t spoil it.’ She smiled up at him serenely, clutching his arm to maintain her fragile balance. ‘Have you come to ask me to dance?’
‘I would, if I didn’t think you would fall over,’ he remarked. The anger he had felt at seeing her kissing young Stanfield was abating, for in her weakened state she really did look both vulnerable and adorable and incredibly lovely—a loveliness not just of face and form, but in her heart and soul. It shone from her, and she was completely unaware of it, and that was what was so special about her.
‘Yes, you’re right. I do feel a bit wobbly,’ she said, relinquishing her hold on his arm and flopping down onto the low terrace wall. ‘I’m feeling a trifle dizzy from all that dancing.’
Grant cocked a dubious brow and, propping one shoulder negligently against the trellising, regarded her attractively flushed face and shining eyes with a twisted smile. ‘Dancing? Are you sure it’s not the effects of the champagne?’
Looking up at him, she smiled, thinking how incredibly handsome he looked in the soft glow of the fairy lights. ‘It could be, I suppose.’
‘That was quite a show you put on on the dance floor. Do you normally dance a polka to a waltz?’ he said quietly, his lips twitching in ill-suppressed amusement.
Adeline blinked up at him. ‘Did we?’ She scowled, seeing a glint of censure in his eyes despite his smile. ‘Grant, are you cross with me?’
‘No—although you did make something of a spectacle of yourself. Perhaps you should rest awhile?’
‘I’m having too good a time to rest.’
‘Adeline, have you eaten anything at all?’ he chided.
She chuckled at his dark scowl. ‘No, not yet. I don’t seem to have had the time.’
‘Perhaps if you’d spent less time drinking champagne and kissing Anthony Stanfield you might have found the time.’
‘Grant? You cannot be angry at a young man’s tipsy kiss—or…’ she murmured, tilting her head to one side and looking up at him askance. ‘Or is it the green eye of jealousy, perhaps?’
He looked down at her. ‘Should I be jealous?’
‘Of course you should. Anthony kisses very well.’
‘Like hell he does. I marked well how little you resisted—no doubt these kisses are a frequent occurrence when Anthony visits you at Eaton Place on the pretence of fencing lessons.’
Adeline threw him an indignant look. ‘Now you are being silly—and you are beginning to sound just like my father. But you were right, you know. I think Anthony does have feelings for me—or it might be the champagne, I suppose,’ she murmured airily. ‘We are both a bit tipsy.’
‘Tipsy? That is obvious. Drink makes a window for the truth, Adeline.’
‘And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?’ she accused, standing up and jabbing a tapered fingernail into his chest. ‘The first time we met you were disgustingly drunk.’ An unconsciously provocative smile curved her lips and she moved closer to him, her narrowed eyes warm and meaningful on his. ‘Pity you can’t remember the incident as well as I can.’
He grinned impenitently. ‘Care to try it again? You can show me what I missed.’ He raised a brow as he waited for her answer—and his eyes clearly expressed his wants.
Adeline felt herself falling under the spell of that rich, deep voice, and the bold stare touched a quickness in her that made her feel as if she were on fire. ‘You—you’re jesting.’
‘No, I’m not. You told me how wonderful it was for you. Wouldn’t you like to experience that again?’
‘And become your mistress? Do you know that to almost everyone here tonight the general consensus is that I am already your mistress?’
Grant smiled. By escorting her to the party he was making certain everyone thought she was. ‘And does that concern you?’ he asked, watching her intently.
Grant’s amused laughter took the sting out of her words. ‘When I have expended so much energy on you, Adeline, can you believe I have any interest in another woman? Is it my association with Diana that raises your ire?’
‘My ire, as you call it, is justified and you know it. Carrying on with Paul and not even bothering to hide it. Her behaviour was quite disgraceful.’ She paused, thoughtfully. ‘Although if she hadn’t I suppose I’d have had to marry him, so if for nothing else I must be grateful to her for that. You have seen a good deal of Diana of late, so why shouldn’t I think the two of you are having an affair?’
‘And why should you care if I am seeing Diana?’
Her eyes snapped. ‘How conceited you are, Grant Leighton. I don’t.’
‘Yes, you do.’
Those glowing eyes burned into hers, suffusing her with an aura of warmth. How could she claim uninterest in this man when his presence could so effectively stir her senses?
Grant’s gaze dipped and lightly caressed her breasts before moving back to her face. ‘I am single-minded in my pursuits, Adeline.’
‘Really? What are you saying?’
‘That I want you.’
Adeline took a step back, resisting all on the strength of her fear. Grant saw her fear and played on it gently, lest her fear destroy the moment, but it took extreme exercise of will.
Taking her hand he drew her back to him. ‘I would like to see what your determination to stand against me can bear, Adeline.’
His nearness sapped Adeline’s strength and weakened her will, drawing out her every resolve until she didn’t know what to think any more—what to do. She knew with certainty that she would never be free of Grant Leighton, and with each day he grew bolder. She saw the hard flint of passion strike sparks in the silver-grey eyes as they moved upon her face.
Wicked Pleasures Page 21