Beloved Enemy (4 page)

Julia snapped open her fan and tried to calm her racing heart. She was sure it was only because he caught her red-handed that she felt as though she had a fever. Best to put a good face on the embarrassing situation, and pray that this Yankee possessed manners to go with his good looks.

She started to say “I do declare,” but remembered in time that her colloquialism might give herself away as a Confederate. Instead, she opened with, “I fear that I am plagued with an insatiable sweet tooth, and the only remedy I know is a surfeit of caramels. I hope you will forgive me and overlook my boldness, sir.” She fanned herself a little harder. He had the most enticing dark eyes she had ever seen.

The masked officer chuckled, his voice rich and smooth
like hot fudge. “Your secret is safe with me, provided that you leave whatever more there may be for the rest of us poor mortals to enjoy.” His lips twitched into a half-smile.

Julia couldn't breathe. Heavens! She must have eaten too much or her corset had grown too tight. She willed herself to remain unruffled, all the while fanning herself harder. She gave him a sidelong glance out of the corner of her eye. My, but he was tall, much taller than most of the men she knew. They must grow them big wherever he came from.

“Where do you come from?” she blurted out, to cover her discomfort.

He blinked behind his mask. Were his eyes black or merely dark brown? “From New York, miss,” he replied. “And you?”

I can't possibly say Virginia. She smoothed her mask. Of course! At a masked ball, everyone pretended to be someone else. So would she.

“Over hill, over dale, through bush, through brier,” she answered, quoting lines from the First Fairy's speech in
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
“Over park, over pale, through flood, through fire I do wander everywhere, swifter than the moon's sphere, and I serve the fairy queen.”

Her companion cocked his head, then grinned, displaying a perfect set of even white teeth. In her champagne-befuddled state, Julia found this very attractive.

“Thou speakest aright. I, too, am a merry wanderer of the night,” he replied from the same play, though he changed Puck's words slightly. Even his grin took on the impish quality of Shakespeare's “merry sprite.”

Julia widened her eyes. Hardly a soul she knew could quote Shakespeare off the top of their heads, especially out of context. Only Frank did, but that was long ago. Perhaps
there was more to this Yankee than brass buttons and polished boots—and those beautiful teeth. Perhaps this was the Yankee she would allow to “ruin” her.

Julia smiled up at him. “Either I mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that—” here Julia dropped the next word, “rude”, and continued “—that knavish sprite called Robin Goodfellow. Are you not he?”

Again he looked as if she had surprised him. This time his smile was warmer. He made a mock bow to her. “You have truly found me out, Fairy Princess. Which one are you? Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth or Mustardseed?” he asked, naming the four fairy handmaidens from the play.

Delighted to continue this unexpected literary wordplay, Julia tapped her fan against the side of her cheek while she pretended to give the matter serious consideration. She felt very light and airy. “Cobweb, because I weave many webs of intrigue,” she answered with more than a grain of truth. If she continued to hold his interest, maybe she could lure him into a dark corner where her books said that men ruined young ladies. Unfortunately, her references had not described the details.

Just then, three more young officers in blue surrounded them; all of them held crystal cups overflowing with creamy eggnog.

“There you are, Rob!” cried the most inebriated member of the group. “It cheers me to the very soul to see that you are having a good time.”

The other two men raised their cups and shouted “Hear, hear” before draining their contents.

Leaning close to Julia's ear, Rob whispered, “Pay them no mind. It's only my cousin and some of his friends.”

His warm breath tickled her skin in the most amazing and thoroughly delightful manner. She shivered inwardly with excitement. Behind her fan, she replied, “I, too, am
infected with cousins, though mine are much less pleasant than yours.” She grimaced as she thought of Payton. She must implement her plan soon before she lost her courage or the effects of the champagne wore off.

“These merry souls are Flute and Snout,” Rob said, pointing to his cousin's friends, naming two more characters from Shakespeare's romantic comedy. Looking surprised, the officers toasted the couple again, then they drained their cups. “My cousin is deservedly known as Bottom, for he is always found at the bottom of the heap.”

The cousin looked from Rob to Julia. He grinned. “Alas, I see once more that I am to play the fool for Rob. If he is disturbing you, miss, you can call on me for assistance. I am Ben, that is, Benjamin Johnson, at your humble service.” He hiccuped.

Rob glared at the high-spirited young man.

Julia took her companion's displeasure as a compliment. Behind her fan, she observed to Rob, “I do believe he is nearing the bottom of his cup now.” She smiled to let him know that she was jesting.

Ben saluted them with his now-empty glass. “I can tell when I have been given my pass to leave, and so I shall. I am your obedient servant, miss. Go dance with her, Rob!” he added as he stumbled off to rejoin his friends at the flowing eggnog bowl.

Rob stiffened. Without looking directly at him, Julia sensed a chill curtain had suddenly crashed down between them. He must not know how to dance, she surmised. To put him back at ease, she smiled.

“I fear that I cannot dance, Major Robin Goodfellow.” Holding up her bulging reticule, she giggled. “I would lose all my newfound wealth if I attempted to twirl around the floor. As you well know, I have gone to great pains to gather these confections.”

He relaxed a fraction. “Then we shall not dance. I would hate to have to crawl across the ballroom trying to retrieve your…um…possessions.”

Aloud, she continued, “But we could watch the others cavort and discuss the merits of their style.”

He nodded, though he did not smile as broadly as he had done before his cousin's intrusion. Julia was sorry for that. This Robin Goodfellow had the most wonderful smile she had ever seen. Don't be such a green goose, her common sense scolded her as Rob led her into the ballroom. The only reason she found him so charming was due to lack of male company for the past two years.

Following behind him, she noticed that he kept his right hand deep in the pocket of his coat. She wondered if he knew that it was rude for a gentleman to put his hands in his pockets while in polite company, but since he was so charming otherwise—and because she knew that she would never see him again after tonight—she decided to ignore this breach of manners. After all, he was from New York and probably didn't know any better.

For the next half hour, Julia and the major traded witty remarks about their fellow guests. Julia drank another glass of champagne to steady her resolve. The music swelled louder and the dancing became more abandoned. The room grew more stuffy. She never knew that candles could put out so much heat. Julia fanned more rapidly. The colors of the ladies' gowns melded together in a swirling rainbow. Julia pressed her hand to her temple. It occurred to her that she had perhaps overimbibed.

The major leaned over her. “Are you unwell, Mistress Cobweb?”

Julia licked her dry lips. “I fear that I require some fresh air. If you would be so kind as to escort me to a window?”
She swallowed hard. Now was the perfect time to initiate her plan, if only her head didn't feel so wobbly.

“Of course,” the Yankee muttered. His slipped his left arm around her waist and gently guided her toward an alcove at the far end of the supper room. “Are you feeling faint?”

She felt faint and terrified, excited and nervous. But Julia shook her head. Her holly wreath slipped a little over her right ear. Its stiff leaves pricked her skin, prodding her more awake.

Rob held back the brocaded curtain so that Julia could pass under it. The tiny space between the drapes and the window seemed very dark after the brilliance of the supper room.
Good,
she thought, as she watched him fumble with the window's latch.
He won't see how frightened I am.
As he raised the sash, she gulped in the bracing cold air. Payton's face suddenly rose in her mind. She shuddered.
Do it now!

Julia had to explain to him exactly what she wanted in no uncertain terms. There could be no mistake on his part. She wished her books had been more specific. She touched the major's arm.

“Sir, I wonder if you could do me one more tiny favor?” she asked. Her heart thudded against her whalebone stays.

“I am your humble servant, Fairy Princess,” he replied. His white teeth shone in the semidarkness as he smiled at her. “Name it.”

Julia wet her lips, then looked up into his wonderful eyes. “Major, would you be so kind as to have…to have your dastardly way with me?”

R
ob gaped at the young woman. Had he completely misread her character? She swayed slightly and hiccuped. Steadying her on her feet, he realized that she probably did not have the slightest idea what she had just asked him. Glancing through the gap in the curtains, he was relieved to see that no one was nearby. Best to sober up the Fairy Princess, then deposit her on one of the side chairs that lined the dance floor. Rob could not remember ever being caught in such a ticklish situation as this one. The lady hiccuped again.

“Oh, dear,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “I do believe that I have made a splendid hash of this.”

Rob had no idea what she meant. “It's the champagne,” he soothed her. “It has a way of robbing our good sense. Those naughty little bubbles make us say the strangest things.” He glanced between the curtains again to make sure that no one had wandered in range.

Her fingers tightened around his good arm. He prayed that she wouldn't faint on him—not in this secluded spot.

“No, Major,” she said in a soft slur, “I did mean exactly what I asked. I must be ruined, whatever that is. I am desperate. Can you do it?”

Rob groaned inwardly. It was like asking him if he knew how to breathe. His loins awoke with a start. His mouth went dry. He cleared his throat. “Pardon my hesitation, miss, but do you have any idea what you are asking me to do?”

“Of course!” She nodded vigorously. Her holly wreath threatened to slide off her head. “That is, no,” she countered. “I fear I do not have a precise definition of ‘ruination.' My books failed me in that respect. I had presumed that you, being a man and a Yankee, would know what to do.”

The way she said “Yankee” gave Rob some pause. Was he in the company of a Confederate spy? Was this a ruse to blackmail him into revealing government secrets? Before he could take action, she fell against him. Her eyes flashed with unfeigned shock.

“Oh, my! This is not what I had planned at all. Do forgive me, Major. I've never had more than one glass of wine before. I had no idea how fluffy it makes one feel. Will my intoxicated condition present a problem for you? Can you ruin me anyway?” Her beautiful eyes focused into a look of pure desperation. “Please, sir,” she whispered. “You are my only hope.”

Rob ignored his distaste for Rebels—at least for the moment. Confederate or not, his Fairy Princess was clearly a lady in real distress. He turned her toward the open window. “Hold on to my arm and keep your eyes open. Breathe deeply.”

She gripped him as she leaned over the jet of cold air that blew inside. When he felt her steady herself, Rob continued, “Now, please explain to me why you wish to have me…ah…ruin you. Before I do anything, I must understand the particulars.” Despite the cold air on his face, perspiration dampened his hair.

The auburn beauty nodded. “My parents want me to marry my cousin down in Richmond.” She paused for breath. “He's a toad.” She stopped again, as if to gather her strength. “So I thought that if I were well and truly ruined by another man—a total stranger—” She breathed in again. “Payton would refuse to have me, and my parents would not object to me becoming a schoolteacher,” she finished in a rush of words.

Rob grunted. She was beginning to sound more reasonable. He gave her a weak smile. “You want to teach children?”

She looked up at him as if he had offered her the world on a silver tray. Her askew holly leaves and her fetching black mask made her even more like Shakespeare's fairy queen. Rob recalled that Titania had also done some silly things while under the influence of a flower's potent juice.

“Very much,” she replied softly. “Little girls and perhaps even some of the black children, now that they are free. But my parents would be dead set against that idea. Proper ladies do not teach school.”

“So you decided to be improper—with me?”

“Exactly so,” she confessed, looking away from him. “Just a little bit. As you have discovered, I have no idea how to do it. My apologies, sir, for embarrassing you.” She straightened her smooth shoulders and pulled up her fringed shawl over her ivory flesh. “I feel like such a fool. But you can have no idea…” She sighed.

Don't get involved. She's a Reb.

Rob's skin prickled. He moved closer to her until there was no space between them. Her violet scent filled his nostrils. Her lips, moist with her outrageous request, were less than twelve inches from his yearning mouth. He knew they should return to the ballroom before someone missed them. Miss Cobweb did not have any idea of the true cost
of a ruined reputation, but Rob knew. Even if she were a Confederate, he did not want to be the one to debauch her. He wanted revenge for his injury, but not at the expense of this innocent. What she needed was a good fright to put some sense back into that pretty head.

The cold moonlight shining through the windowpane glinted in her jade-green eyes. Staring into their depths, Rob tried to ignore their magnetic pull on his senses.

“To ruin a young lady means to take her virtue,” he began in his best attempt to remain impervious to her attractions.

“Oh!” gasped the Fairy Princess. Her eyes grew wider.

Rob continued in a hurry. “A kiss on your lips by a stranger like myself would be enough to ruin a respectable young woman such as yourself.” How he wanted to do it right away!

Puzzlement filled her green orbs. “But I have been kissed already. Frank did that before he went off to fight the…to war,” she finished.

Rob thought of his cold bed back in his hotel. “Why don't you marry Frank then, instead of this cousin? It would save you a great deal of grief.”

The lady looked down at the floor. “He was killed at Manassas,” she whispered. She touched a silver locket that she wore around her neck. “And he only kissed me once—on the cheek.”

Rob was tempted to take her in his arms for comfort's sake, but that would defeat the point he was trying to make. “I am sorry for your loss,” he said through stiff lips. “But to return to your present…um…problem.” His loins stiffened. He hoped it wasn't noticeable. “If I took improper liberties with you—”

She looked up with warm expectation. “Yes?” she breathed.

Rob groaned as his manhood throbbed under his frock coat. How did he get himself into this hell? He had to end this nonsense quickly before he did something that he would surely regret—later.
I must be cruel to be kind.

“To ruin you,” he growled, “my kiss would be
hard.
It would bruise you.” He tore his gaze away from her lush mouth. “And…and I would not stop with just one kiss. Oh, no, I would kiss you many times…in many places.” Sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

The tip of her pink tongue darted between her lips. “Fascinating!”

Rob squeezed shut his eyes. A sane man could only withstand so much temptation. Miss Cobweb had no idea how warm she had made him. He had to conclude the little lecture now.

“It is quite unpleasant, miss. I doubt you would like it at all—and neither would I,” he ended with a profound lie.

Rob backed away from her and lifted the drape. Fortunately, their corner was still deserted. “It's high time that we rejoined the party,” he muttered, every nerve in his body aflame.

She gave him a soulful look. “So you will not ruin me after all?”

He pushed her into the supper room. “That remains to be seen.”

 

Though her plan had failed miserably, Julia felt relieved. Who would have ever guessed that she would happen to find the one and only true gentleman in this roomful of churlish Yankees? She looked up at him and caught his sidelong glance. Though his mask covered half his face, she could tell that she had made him uncomfortable.

To ease the tension, she whispered behind her fan, “I
thank you for protecting my reputation, sir, but, at least, could you say that you had your way with me? I mean, if anyone happened to ask you.”

He looked stricken. His mouth thinned, then he replied, “I pray that there will be no inquiries. I have no intention of eating buckshot for breakfast.”

Just then, Joe Jackson announced a polka. Couples at the refreshment table pushed past Julia and her major to claim a spot on the dance floor.

As the music began, Julia saw her sister for the first time that evening. Carolyn was in the center of the room in the arms of an officer wearing bright red Turkish trousers. The man was practically galloping her down the length of the dance floor.

Leaning down, Rob observed, “Now
there
is a pretty minx who will leave many a broken heart in her wake.” He nodded toward Carolyn. “She's a candidate for ruination.”

Julia gulped. “I fear you are right. That's my sister.”

Rob groaned. Then he turned to her with apology in his chocolate-brown eyes. “Forgive me again, Mistress Cobweb. It is the knavish spirit within me. Is your sister named Peaseblossom for the color of her gown?” he added in a rush.

Julia knew her mother would swoon if she saw Carolyn just now. To the major's anxious look, she remarked, “No, we left Peaseblossom at home to grow some more. That is Mustardseed, so called because she will indeed add a great deal of spice to life.”

Finally, Rob smiled at her just as he had done earlier in the supper room. Hoping that their awkward episode was behind them, Julia returned his smile. Then she glanced back at the dance floor.

“Hellfire!” she gasped with horror under her breath.

As Carolyn's partner whirled her faster, her sister's mask slipped down to her neck, revealing her identity for all the world to see!