Billionaire: Billionaire Romance: Billionaire Tiger (A Billionaire New Adult Shifter Contemporary Romance) (39 page)

I arrived to find an arched gate entrance that opened into a very large courtyard garden. It held a large fountain that trickled water on all sides. Marble statues lined the garden paths and ranged from angels to animals.

A large entryway with colossal doors greeted me at the entrance to the manor. Once inside beautiful Italian marble floors and ornate columns sprawled across the entrance. A large round table adorned the entrance, it held large Venetian glass vase that had a variety of fresh roses in it from the garden. The décor looked like it had been there since the early 1500s with heavy tapestries and rich paintings. The furniture ranged from early Renaissance through every decade up until the present. There was a parlor right off the entry, a large dining room that could seat more than twenty people with a massive fireplace. In the back of the manor sat a ballroom with a great library and sitting rooms that led out to the garden. The servants’ quarters were located in the attics. My room was located up the grand staircase off the galley with the rest of the bedrooms. It was fit for a princess with a canopy bed draped in fine white lace and the large windows over looked the gardens below. The walls were covered in light blue silk wallpaper with soft patterns. Stunning paintings of gardens and English landscapes adorned the walls as well as a large mirror with gold leaf bordering. I had a vanity in one corner of the room near the window to catch the natural light. It was a pleasant room in a grand house.

Still I couldn’t get my mother’s voice out of my head.

“Regina, you will be an old maid by the time you want marry again. Just get it over with now,” she would say on almost a daily basis. It was enough to drive me mad.My mother didn’t understand that I longed to experience the world before I was married off again. I considered marriage a prison.

I reminded myself that I was free from her incessant reminders that I would be alone forever. It was my first official morning waking up at the house, and I woke up to a loud knock at the door. I sleepily made my way over and opened it. In rushed two loud women followed by the maid, Magda who profusely apologized for the intrusion. Suddenly I was in a whirlwind of measuring tape and fabrics. One woman, who clearly was the boss, ordered another to bring in the gowns.
The gowns?
I thought. Within seconds gorgeous ball gowns were scattered around my room along with hooded cloaks and slippers. Being half asleep, I thought I was dreaming. She informed me that William ordered their services to provide me with as many gowns as I needed to get through each of the parties and balls we would be attending. I was astonished.
What a kind gesture!
I would be going with him and my sister to many events and it was of the upmost importance that I do not embarrass them. Therefore I understood his need to make sure I had elegant dresses for the balls and parties.

The maid, Magda, came in with an assortment of pastries and tea. I felt like a princess as I tried on dress after dress allowing the dressmaker to make the altercations to suit my body and height. I was in dress heaven. She chose ten elegant ball gowns of silk for the evenings. I had them in many shades each with their own unique design. There was a rich yellow gold silk dress that reflected light and made me look like I was glowing. A pale mint green gown of taffeta and silk gave me a softer appearance. It was perfect for the garden parties or a smaller ball or evening dinner. A pale pink dress went perfect with my complexion with satin pink slippers to go with it. I also had ball gowns in purple, blue, white, peach, red, crème, and silver.

For the daytime the dressmaker gave me seven dresses that were perfect for less formal occasions or just walking around London. These were in solid colors and made from thicker fabrics like cotton. They were also beautiful with intricate patterns and lots of lace.

After the fitting, my room was bursting with dresses and corsets. I was beyond excited. After wearing black for so long in mourning, it was good to be in colors again.

Before the dressmaker left she helped me pick my wardrobe for the daytime. It was a deep magenta made from soft cotton with intricate lace details and it went well with my pale skin and blue eyes. The maids piled my blonde hair on top of my head into an elegant up do with curled tendrils framing my face, as was the most recent style of the day. I applied a few puffs of white powder to my face to take away any shine and then I was ready for the day.

Of course my sister and I had to be escorted everywhere, but we managed to have a little freedom if we just took a chaperone. Today was one of those days. We were going to a garden tea party at a very large and prominent estate on the outskirts of London.

My sister burst into my room with great enthusiasm. She was younger than me and I still thought of her as a child. In many ways she was. She was always full of energy and once she started talking it was hard to get a word in.

“Regina! Look! It’s beautiful!”

She twirled around in a pale green silk dress with small white lace flowers. It was lovely on her. My sister was a great beauty. She had a heart shaped face and large green eyes. Her hair was the same golden colour as mine.

“Oh! What would Elizabeth and Sarah Beth think of this! They would be so envious.”

Elizabeth and Sarah Beth were our friends back home. We had grown up them. They also came from a well-known family, more well-off than our family. We always felt in competition with them.

William could not join us today so his matronly aunt, Mrs. Roberts, would escort us to the tea garden party. She was nice, loud, and very proper. She was a widow and well into her early 50s with loads of money. She seemed to enjoy the finer things of life and knew how to have a subtly good time, which was appropriate for women. I think she enjoyed being with the girls.

We made our way out of the house and into the large four-horse carriage that waited out front for us. We rode that carriage down the labyrinths of brick and cobblestone that were the streets of London. The town was very vibrant and full of energy as it almost always was. We pulled up to a large stoned wall covered in green vines with purple flowers. It smelled heavenly. We stopped in a line of very luxurious carriages that one by one let their passengers off near the opening of the walled estate. Our turn came and very elegantly dressed footmen helped us out of our carriage.

We walked up the steps to the stoned wall where there was a large narrow archway. Men in black and white formal wear stood guard at the entrance of the archway. They said nothing to us, but instead extended out a white-gloved hand. Mrs. Roberts reached into a velvet-pouched purse and pulled out a white card party invitation. The man looked it over and then they both stepped aside to let us in. It was a very exclusive affair. We entered and walked down the long corridor and the sounds of a party echoed off the walls. At the end of the corridor we stepped into a vibrant garden teaming with people. Abigail and I giggled out loud at the sight of it all.

It was a grand party with no expense spared. There was a seated string quartet in the far corner of the garden and plush furniture set up in various spots. Large banquet tables were decorated with flowers and adorned with enormous amounts of food and drink. I looked up to see hanging baskets of flowers and plants. Indeed, it was a garden fit for a king. We walked around taking it all in. The guests were nice and cordial and nodded as we passed.

I sampled the rich foods and loved all the delicious flavors. After an hour or two I was exhausted and needed a little break. As I walked through the garden paths, I got the feeling I was being followed. I looked over my shoulder briefly but didn’t stop walking. I turned down a corner path.

“Are you lost?” A low sultry voice said from behind me. It had a thick Italian accent

I turned around. Before me stood a tall man in a black vest that he wore over a white pressed shirt, and tight black trousers with mid-calf high boots. He had dark hair and green eyes. He was absolutely captivating, but also very bold. It was improper for him to talk to me with out formally being introduced. It was even more so that he had followed me down the isolated garden path.

“I am not sir, I thank you,” I said as I sped passed him in a hurry before any one could see us.

As I passed he acquired a cocky and arrogant smirk. It was infuriating, but also very attractive. I was immediately intrigued even though I was not allowed to show that I was.

After the party we made our way home for a nap and to get ready for the ball that evening. I did not tell Abigail about the incident. I didn’t want to seem improper or wild and be forced to stay indoors by her husband William. That would be an absolute horror.

I picked a soft pale lavender ball gown for the evening. The empire waist of the dress was a slightly darker shade of lavender and it laced up the back. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was feeling giddy, I wondered if I would see the mysterious man again. Abigail rushed into my room.

“Oh Regina, I’m so excited I feel like I could burst! William looks absolutely divine and his friend Mr. Grace has just arrived. He is a day early. He is a very handsome man indeed. He is to stay with us. Isn’t that exciting?”

Abigail was always rapidly ranting away like this. She was a little chatter box. Her dress was a crème colored fabric of silk and lace. I gave her a look of disapproval.

“Abigail, this better not be some clever ploy that you and mother have come up with to marry me off to some stuffy old friend of your husband,” I said.

“It’s not. I promise. William only told me just now that we were expecting a guess. He said he had told me a week ago, but I don’t remember.”

I sighed. I was not pleased that I would now have to share a house with man that I was sure was here just to tempt me into marriage. I was very annoyed.

Abigail and I made our way down the stairs and into the drawing room where the men awaited us to escort us to the ball.

CHAPTER TWO

Mr. Grace

“My dear wife, Abigail, and her sister, Mrs Regina Turner, may I present my dearest friend Mr. Antonio Grace,” William said as soon as we walked in.

I froze in my tracks. It was the attractive man from the garden party earlier. He gave me a knowing look and then bowed. Abigail curtsied and stood there not doing anything. Then I remembered myself and curtsied.

“Shall we be on our way then?” William asked.

“Oh yes, my love, I can’t wait to dance and dance,” Abigail said. She looped her arm in William’s arm and they strolled out the room.

Mr. Grace looked at me and said nothing. He pushed his arm out for me to take it. I gave him a snub look and walked out ahead of him. I could hear him laugh at me as he walked behind me. It took all of my willpower not to turn and slap him with my glove.

We arrived at the ball a short while later. We walked into a vast entryway where the hosts were greeting their guests. The ballroom was massive. There were enormous ornate columns around the outside and gorgeous crystal chandeliers twinkled in the dim light. Everything was white. The walls hung with shimmering white fabrics. White linens covered the tables and all the furniture was white. There were all kinds of white flowers in white vases. It was beautiful.

A loud tapping interrupted the low murmur of conversations. Everyone’s attention went to the balcony that overlooked the ballroom floor. There tapping on a violin the way someone would tap on a wine glass before a speech, was a man dressed in a white wig. Everywhere people took to the ballroom floor. The man started playing a waltz. It was so beautiful I felt tears of joy welling in my eyes. I found a small niche with a plush chaise lounge and white fabrics flowing from the walls giving it a bit of privacy. I sat down. A man sat next to me. His scent was intoxicating and yet familiar. I looked at him waiting for him to say something, it was Mr. Grace.

Excitement and lust rushed through my body. He stood up from the chaise and bowed in front of me extending his hand out to me.

“May I have this dance?”

I placed my hand in his. He swiftly moved me around the dance floor. I felt light as air. We didn’t talk. We only locked eyes as we danced. I could feel the tension between us. Every now and then his gaze would fall to my cleavage with the plunging neckline of my dress. It was shocking really that he did not try to steal a glance. Instead, he looked freely. If I had been a maid still, I would have walked away from him. But that was not the case, I was now an experienced woman. I was a woman that had been in an unhappy marriage with a man that knew nothing about romance and attraction. So I found myself welcoming the bold glances of Mr. Grace. It was almost intoxicating how he made me feel when he looked at me in that way. After two dances he led me to the side of the room. He bowed in front of me. I didn’t want him to go. For the next two hours of the ball I danced with the acquaintances of William, but the entire time Mr. Grace watched me. I could feel his eyes on me even when I was across the long room.

I needed fresh air so I walked out of the many glass French doors that lined the room. Through the doors was a large veranda that was dimly lit with burning torches. I saw a few couples off in the distance taking walks in the garden below.

“It’s a fine night, Mrs. Turner” I heard a voice say behind me.

I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. I knew immediately.

“Yes, it is Mr. Grace,” I said.

“How long have you been a widow?” he asked.

I turned and looked at him in shock, “Mr. Grace that is not an entirely proper question!”

“I’m not a proper gentleman,” was his response. He arched an eyebrow at me and moved closer to me.

“What are you doing?”

“Being improper,” he whispered as he moved closer. His chest brushed across me and leaned over looking down at me. I gasped as he rubbed his body against me. I felt aroused and the amount of desire I felt for this stranger was making me anxious. Then he leaned closer. His lips brushed across mine softly. A soft whimper left my body. Then he pressed stronger against my lips in a full kiss. His tongue explored my mouth and I let him. I knew we could get caught at any moment and then I would be cast out of society as a harlot. In the moment, however, I did not care. I leaned into the kiss. I let my breasts rest against his chest. I reached my arms up and around his neck and ran my fingers through his thick dark hair. His arms circled my waist and he pulled me in close. I needed to pull away and soon. I needed to stop him from doing this to me. I indulged myself for a few more seconds and then I pushed him away. I stopped and looked around quickly. I could not see anyone looking at us, so I think we were in the clear. I straitened my dress and ran my hand on my head fixing my hair.