by Gayle Wilson
The tall body moved into too-close proximity to hers, the hard muscles of his chest brushing against the softness of her breasts.
“Not too close,” she cautioned breathlessly, and he obediently moved back a few inches.
“The music is in three,” she began.
“What music?”
“To the waltz.”
“Then we seem to be lacking something. Unless I am badly mistaken, thereis no music.” Raven made a pretense of looking around the vast, empty ballroom and even cocked his dark head as if listening for some faint strain.
“But there will be that night.”
“Then wouldn’t it be better to practice with music?”
“I don’t believe we are at that point,” she said rather briskly, fighting an inclination to laugh.
“You could hire an orchestra. Or a small string ensemble.”
“Not tonight,” she said sternly. “I believe that you are simply trying to postpone the inevitable. Youdid promise.”
“I must have been thinking of something else. Are you sure this is necessary?”
“In three,” she said, ignoring his delaying tactics.
“Why don’t you hum?”
“All right,” she agreed patiently, her palms beginning to perspire slightly at being this close to him. Unconsciously she took a deep breath, enjoying once again the pleasant masculine aromas that surrounded him. “I shall hum.”
“Something I know,” he suggested.
“I don’t know what you know,” she said reasonably.
“That’s true. Then something they’ll play that night. Could you tell them what to play? So I’d be familiar with it?”
“No, I could not,” she said. “In three,” she insisted again and began to move as she counted. “One, two, three. One, two, three.”
“That’s all?” he asked, following her steps as if in deep concentration, a little uncertainly.
“Except you turn, so you’re not dancing in a line. Turn as you move. Surely you must have seen the dancing that night.”
“The night you danced with Amberton and everyone else?”
“Not everyone. I didn’t dance with you,” she said, relaxing with the increasing surety of his movements.
“No,” he agreed. “But you should have,” he said, sweeping her suddenly in ever-widening circles across the polished floor.
Her eyes locked with his, and he smiled at her, mocking her surprise at his expertise. Eventually her lids drifted closed, and she savored the pleasure of moving in the embrace of a partner who knew exactly how to hold her and whose steps, despite his size, matched perfectly with her own. She could almost hear the music he obviously felt. They were one. At least here.
This was as near to heaven as he was likely to get, Raven thought—holding Catherine, who floated gracefully in his arms as if she belonged there. As if she enjoyed being there.
God, he wanted her. She was his, legally and morally, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. More than the money that, in his impoverished youth, he’d thought was so important. More than success or power. More even than the desire to create structures and industries that would exist long after he was dead and gone. Even after his children were gone. At the thought of a child of Catherine’s, his body betrayed his iron control again. Like a damn schoolboy, he mocked himself.
He released her finally, knowing that if he didn’t leave soon, he’d not be able to. She swayed slightly against his chest, as if reluctant to have it end.
“Will you save me another waltz?” he asked softly, and she opened her eyes to find him regarding her with something that looked very much like possessiveness. “Besides the one we’ll be forced to share under the inspection of your friends.”
“Yes,” she promised, mesmerized again by being this close to him, in his arms for the first time in so long.
“Somewhere between the Reginalds and the Geralds?”
“You can tell me when the musicians play something you know,” she teased, stepping back from the circle of his arms, before she betrayed herself by revealing how pleasant she had found having them hold her to be. “I wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed.”
Having chided him for making her go through this farce of a lesson, which had almost turned into something else, she curtsied as carefully as if they really were partners at a ball and then catching up the skirt of her gown, made her graceful way across the echoing emptiness of the ballroom.
She forced herself not to hurry, but when she was safely in the hallway and away from the steady scrutiny of that knowing gaze, she closed the door and leaned against it a moment.
Playing with fire, she warned herself honestly, wondering how much longer she was going to be able to endure the very inconvenient restrictions of this marriage of convenience.
Chapter Five
“Deserted already?”
Catherine looked up from her contemplation of the crowded floor of her aunt’s ballroom to find Lord Amberton at her elbow. Since she had been wondering the same thing, she knew at once what he was suggesting about her husband’s absence.
Raven had danced with her after her aunt’s rather tremulous announcement of their marriage. He had not led her in the sweeping circles that they had made across the empty dance floor of their town house, but had guided her sedately over this floor’s far smaller expanse, his performance polished enough, but without the flash that would have invited comment. The ton had been forced to watch without being given any additional reason to question the couple’s inclusion at the small entertainment for family and old friends.
Catherine’s husband had said and done everything that was required, and after he had completed the tasks she’d carefully laid out for him during the short ride to their destination tonight, he had disappeared, allowing her freedom to slip back into the flirtatious camaraderie she shared with several former beaus who were in attendance. Until now, however, she had not been called upon to talk to the Viscount Amberton.
“I doubt it,” she answered, her tone sharper than she’d intended. She had not yet forgiven Gerald for his behavior the night Raven had abducted her. Intellectually she knew the viscount’s lapse had been far more her father’s fault for allowing Amberton to believe that she already belonged to him. But it still hurt that he’d so readily destroyed the friendship they had enjoyed, simply to prove his dominance. His comment had been apt, however. Her gaze had been moving around the room, unconsciously looking for the dark, towering head of her husband.
“He’s in the card room,” Gerald offered. “Apparently dancing isn’t something our American visitor enjoys.”
“He’s hardly a visitor,” she said, a trace of ice in her tone.
“Because he has a house in Mayfair and an entree here tonight due to your aunt’s senility? I assure you, my dear, he willalways be a visitor,” Amberton replied sardonically.
“And what does that make me?”
“Sorry?” he suggested softly.
“Hardly,” she denied. “He’s a very interesting man.”
“He’s probably told you all about his coal mines.”
And seeing her expression, he laughed. “By God, I believe he has. Probably nothing else to talk about.”
“A successful marriage is not dependent on conversation alone,” she said unthinkingly, and then, at his shout of laughter, blushed scarlet to the roots of her hair.
“I was sure there was some secret to his success. Not that I guessedthat, of course. Somehow he doesn’t appear to be-”
“If you’ll excuse me,” she interrupted, moving away.
He caught her wrist, continuing to hold her even when she looked down rather pointedly at his fingers, whitened with the pressure they were exerting against the kid of her glove.
“I think you should remove your hand.”
“Such the proper matron,” Amberton said, obeying. “So he’s tamed you to the bit already.”
“Tamed me?” she repeated, feeling
a surge of anger.
“You weren’t once so concerned about the conventions.”
“And what makes you believe I am now?”
“You’ve not danced the last two sets, and you appeared to be trying to locate your husband. Hardly the behavior I should have expected from someone who was always the merriest hoyden of the Season. It’s hard to picture you subdued and settled.”
“Hardlysettled because I am wondering where my husband is. Most women like to have an idea of their spouse’s whereabouts. Raven doesn’t have many acquaintances in this gathering.”
“Wives who are concerned about their husband’s whereabouts are usually up to mischief and don’t wish to be discovered. But I hardly believe that to be your case. You seem far too enamored of your ‘Raven,’ as you call him. That’s not a title, my dear.”
“It fits him,” she said truthfully. Perhaps because of the darkness of his midnight hair, she mused. And heshould have a title. If anyone were arrogant enough to deserve a title, it was he.
“Shall I fetch him so you can play the dutiful little wife?”
“That title, however, doesn’t fit,” she responded tartly. She allowed her gaze to travel around the room, hoping Gerald would go away. Somehow she knew he’d had the better of this encounter.
“Then perhaps I might offer a different diversion.”
She turned back to meet his eyes. He was laughing at her, and she wondered what he had guessed about her marriage.
“Give me a game,” he suggested. “You always loved a hand of cards. And since your lord and master is engaged elsewhere—”
“He isnot my lord and master.”
“Then if you are allowed such freedom, play with me.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in cards. The room is always so crowded. Half of Aunt’s cronies come for the whist.”
“I wasn’t suggesting the card room, but then I suppose a private hand is far too daring for the sedate Mrs. Raven,” he taunted. “Why don’t you ask him if it’s all right to accept my invitation to a hand of cards? Maybe you can talk him into giving you permission to play.”
“If I wanted to play cards with you, Gerald—”
“Oh, I understand completely, my dear,” he agreed, his mockery clear. “I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”
“My husband and I don’t have that kind of marriage,” she assured him, realizing belatedly that she had made things worse.
He cocked his head, studying her face. “Then what kind of marriagedo you have, I wonder? This is becoming more interesting by the moment.”
“Raven doesn’t attempt to restrict my activities.”
“Is that why you married him? A very impetuous marriage, I might add.”And damn the bitch, bloody disastrous for me, Amberton thought bitterly.
“I married him because my father had promised I should choose my husband, and then you and he decided to do it for me.”
“Whatare you talking about?” Amberton asked with what he hoped would appear to be genuine puzzlement.
“I saw the announcement intended for thePost,” she said, but something in his tone had been very convincing. Gerald had sounded as if he reallyhad no idea what she was talking about.
“I must seem slow, but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask what announcement.” It was so easy to manipulate Cat, he thought. She was too honest herself to doubt the motives of others.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, wondering for the first time if she had been gulled.You belong to me, Raven had said. Had he then set out to trick her, using the overheard conversation with Amberton to bait the trap? If so, he must have congratulated himself on how easily she’d been fooled.
No wonder there had been no pursuit in their journey to the Border, she realized suddenly. Her father had never intended to announce her betrothal and so, when she’d disappeared, he’d had no idea of why she’d run away or of where to search for her. No idea that she might have eloped to escape the marriage trap she believed he’d arranged. Instead, Raven had apparently tricked her into creating another trap, one of her own making.
“Then if you intend to stand beside the other matrons all evening, I believe I shall be forced to leave you, Cat, my heart,” Gerald commented, interrupting her humiliating realization of how she’d been duped. “Boredom overtakes one so easily in the summer. It must be this oppressive dampness.”
“I thought you mentioned something about cards?” Catherine asked, raising her chin. Damn Raven, she thought. How dare he trick her? She would never forgive him for that.
“I thought you’d decided to play the good wife.”
“It’s still a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, I believe,” she said, smiling at him with a warmth that caused his brows to raise slightly.
“Now there’s my Cat. I’m afraid, my sweet, I really was beginning to believe he’d turned you into a tame tabby.”
“Set your mind at ease. That’s something no one will ever do. Not even Raven.” Especially not Raven, she vowed silently.
“Do you suppose anyone else has discovered your aunt’s solarium? Such a delightfully secluded room.”
For the first time since she’d accepted his challenge, Catherine felt a small flutter of unease. This was certainly not what she’d intended. She had only wanted to show Gerald that she was still as daring as she had always been. And as for Raven…
She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to show Raven, but she had a feeling, despite his promise not to censure her, that he wouldn’t like her to be with Gerald in any “delightfully secluded room.”
“I make that sixty points, my dear, and my game, I think. Your luck seems to have run out tonight.”
Catherine took a deep breath, knowing that it was not her luck that was at fault. She couldn’t seem to keep her mind on the cards. Her decisions regarding her discards had bordered on the absurd. She kept visualizing the ballroom below and a pair of crystal blue eyes searching the throng for her. Thankfully this was the last hand, and she would he free to escape.
“I’m really rather glad we decided on piquet. So much more challenging. And I believe, my dear, that your wager was…”
She met Amberton’s look and knew again that he was making fun of her. Her lips tightened slightly, but she slipped the narrow diamond-and-ruby bangle, which Gerald had suggested would be an appropriate stake, off her wrist. When Raven had admired it earlier tonight, she’d thought with embarrassed amusement that he had probably not yet received the bill for it. She wondered if he would notice the loss of such a recent purchase, a purchase he had commented on. The first time, now that she thought about it, that he’d remarked on anything she’d worn.
“Unless…” Gerald began, and then hesitated.
“Unless what?” she asked, watching his face.
“I’ve just realized that the loss of a bracelet might be awkward for you. If Mr. Raven begins asking questions.”
Since she had had the same thought, her betraying fingers hesitated in the act of placing the jeweled circlet on his side of the small gaming table at which they were seated.
“It’s what I wagered,” she said, seeing no way out.
“Well, I’m amenable to an alternate suggestion,” Gerald said pleasantly. “I’d hate for you to get into trouble.”
She flicked the bracelet angrily onto the gleaming wood of the table, and it bounced twice, the gems catching the light.
“I won’t ‘get into trouble.’ Itis my bracelet.”
“And you may redeem it for a kiss,” he said smiling at her. “One kiss between old friends.”
“No.”
“Well broken to the bit,” he mocked. Come on. Cat, he urged silently. Get that famous Montfort temper up.
“That’s not—”
“Afraid your dolt of a husband might object? Frankly, my dear, he doesn’t seem to give a damn what you do. Rather a laissez-faire attitude. But heis a businessman, with what rumor suggests is a decided flare with money. He’ll never mis
s the kiss, but I wouldn’t be so certain about the jewels.”
“All right,” she agreed, fearing Gerald was correct. Anything to get this over and done. After all, it was not as if she’d never before been in Amberton’s arms. But, her conscience reminded her, she’d never been there as a married woman.
How had she gotten herself into this? she wondered bitterly. She’d been married two months, had never even been kissed by her own husband, and she was about to allow another man that privilege. How could she have been so stupid?
“I’ll send you word,” Gerald said, rising and looking down at her. So easy. And now if the rest went as well, he’d be back where he’d been before the American had interfered.
“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, not understanding.
“You’ll be hearing from me. When I want to collect.” Smiling, he slid the bracelet back across the table. “I enjoyed the game, my dear. A very pleasant evening altogether, I must say.”
Still smiling, he strolled to the door and, her eyes on the wagered jewelry, Catherine heard it close behind him.
When she was sure he was gone, she took the narrow bangle from the table and slipped it over her wrist. The beauty of the gems seemed to mock her as he had.
You’ll be hearing from me, Gerald had said. And she had no doubt that she would.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Raven asked on the way home.
Perhaps if he gave her the opportunity to tell him where she’d disappeared to, she would. By the terms of their contract, he had no right to ask. He had promised her freedom, he reminded himself bitterly, and noninterference in her activities.
Catherine knew she had been too silent, thinking about what had happened tonight instead of discussing the evening as he seemed to expect.
“Of course,” she lied, trying to clear her mind of the circling recriminations. Why had she let Gerald convince her to go upstairs with him? She wondered for the hundredth time if anyone had seen them. And if so, had it been mentioned to Raven? Her husband had seemed exactly the same when, having made her furtive way down the servants’ stairs, she had, upon reentering the ballroom, spotted him almost immediately.