Defiant Impostor (19 page)

"It was my fault," Susanna said, sighing with
exasperation. "I didn't see him handing the punch cup to me and when I
rose, I upset it. It was a silly accident, nothing more."

"Well, he should have been more careful, just the
same," the maid insisted, then her comely face broke into a grin. "
'Course I can understand why he was so nervous, there being those other fine
gentlemen around him and all of them wanting your undivided attention. Have any
of those young bucks tickled your fancy, Miss Camille?"

Susanna couldn't suppress a smile at Corliss's
description of her suitors, but it quickly faded when she recalled her thoughts
just before her little mishap.

"No," she answered, deeply troubled and
equally angry with herself. It seemed only one man had struck her fancy thus
far. The wrong one.

"Well, don't you worry about that either. They'll
be plenty more parties coming up and more menfolk who'll be wanting to meet
you. You'll find that husband of yours. Just keep your eyes wide open."

She fully intended to, Susanna silently agreed as
Corliss bustled to the door. Especially now. As soon as she gathered herself
together, she was going to plunge right back into the frivolity and give the
young gentlemen present another chance to prove themselves. Surely there had to
be at least one among them who was worthy of being a serious suitor, one who
could kiss as well as Adam Thornton!

"Are you coming down now, Miss Camille?" the
maid asked over her shoulder.

"Shortly. I'd like to stay here for a little while
and enjoy some peace and quiet. There's been so much commotion, so many people
around. It's been overwhelming."

"Yes, these gentry sure take their fun seriously.
I 'spect the house will be jumping till early morning, what with all the card
playing, drinking, and dancing." Corliss opened the door, then seemed to
start as she began to close it behind her. "Oh, Mr. Thornton. I didn't see
you standing there."

Susanna froze, staring blindly at her shimmering
reflection.

"I have some important business to discuss with
Miss Cary. Would you ask her if she'll see me?"

"Miss Camille—"

"Thank you, Corliss. I heard him. Mr. Thornton may
come in."

Susanna's gaze broke away from the mirror and she
inclined her head, listening breathlessly as the door closed behind the maid
with a soft click. Her body tensed at the sound of Adam's footfalls slowly
approaching, although when they stopped, she couldn't tell how far away from
her he was standing. Nor did she want to peek in the mirror. She was afraid she
might discover he was right behind her.

Oh, dear God, they were alone for the first time since
last night, she thought, her emotions in an uproar. Buffeted by anger,
excitement, and an inexplicable longing, she knew she should turn around and
face him, yet for some reason she couldn't. Her silver shoes seemed rooted to
the floor.

"I heard what happened, Camille. Why didn't you
stop when Miss Grymes and I saw you earlier?"

"I wanted to change as quickly as possible,"
she said in hasty explanation, her heart thudding at the deep resonance in his
voice. "I was practically soaked to the skin."

"Well, I very much like the gown you've chosen for
tonight. Turn around so I can see you better. Slowly."

As Susanna did as he bade her, the wide, bell-shaped
skirt lilting gently around her feet, she told herself that she must continue
to mislead him just as she had done the night before. She had no choice. She
needed him here at Briarwood for as long as it took her to find a husband.

Yet, after her disappointing day, she wondered with no small
amount of apprehension just when that might be. She was not one to deceive
herself. She could not deny that matters between her and Adam had taken a
decidedly dangerous and perplexing turn, at least as far as she was concerned.
She could sense a new urgency in herself, almost fear of what might happen if
she didn't meet the right man soon. Oh, please, please, may it not be too long
from now!

By the time Susanna was facing him, her gaze direct and
her chin raised, she had somehow found the courage to continue with her plan
even as her legs felt oddly weak. His eyes were raking over her in a manner
that made her feel as if he could see right through her clothing, and when his
gaze lingered overlong upon her breasts, it was all she could do to ask him lightly,
"Do I meet with your approval?"

"Completely." It took her breath away to see
desire written so plainly in the smoldering mahogany depths of his eyes. She
hoped he couldn't read it so easily in hers.

How long they stood there looking at each other Susanna
couldn't say, but she finally regained enough presence of mind to notice he
held the delicate silk fan she had left outside on the bench.

"My fan."

He nodded, a smile on his lips as he held it out to
her, although his eyes were serious.

"Matthew Grymes wanted to bring it to you, but
when I informed him that you and I had some plantation business to discuss, he
agreed that I might return it for him. Yet he wanted me to tell you that he
will happily buy you another as a gift if you find this one marred in any
way."

"I'm sure it's fine," she said, walking past
him to set the fan upon her dressing table. She had no wish to inspect it right
now, especially not in front of Adam. Fans were one thing she had as yet failed
to master, unlike hoop-petticoats, high heels, and dancing. There was a
flirtatious artistry in the use of the accessory that left her all thumbs.

Susanna moved to the separate sitting area near the
fireplace and, taking a seat in one of the comfortable stuffed chairs, gestured
for Adam to join her.

"You mentioned some important business," she
said in an attempt to draw their conversation away from herself. As he sat
across from her and stretched out his heavily muscled legs, she found herself
thinking how handsome he looked in his royal-blue coat, damask waistcoat, and
black breeches. He certainly didn't lack for fine clothing; everything he wore
was expertly tailored to fit his powerful body and appeared not foppish or
overdone, but profoundly masculine. With effort, she forced her mind back to
the matter at hand. "I hope it's nothing serious."

"That depends," Adam replied, searching her
face, "although it doesn't concern Briarwood. I only said that to deceive
any curious souls who might wonder why we're alone in your room, my love. A
plantation manager speaking to his employer is one thing, but a man and the
woman he's courting . . . We've our little secret to maintain, remember?"

She didn't answer, sensing tension beneath his words.
He suddenly seemed annoyed with her, but why?

"Our business is of a private nature, Camille. It
concerns the young woman you saw with me in the garden, Celeste Grymes. I
believe you met her earlier?"

"Yes, we've met," Susanna said tightly.
"She's very pleasant—"

"And very talkative and very, very cunning."

She was startled by his biting tone. That certainly
wasn't the way a man spoke of someone with whom he might be enamored.

"Celeste told me that you agreed to accompany her
on some outings. Is this true?"

Oh, dear, she hadn't expected to have to deal with this
question so soon, Susanna thought, her mind racing. She had hoped he wouldn't
discover her plans until the Grymes's carriage came to take her away next
Tuesday, the day of Amy Johnson's birthday party. How was she going to explain
herself? Camille wasn't supposed to like outings.

"Y-yes," she answered hesitantly, but before
she could continue he cut her off.

"You mustn't let her force you into anything you
don't want to do," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "She's not
to be trusted, Camille. She only wants you to accompany her so that her pompous
idiot of a brother can spend more time with you . . ." He paused, sighing
heavily. "Forgive me. I know that you have no intention of going anywhere
with them—"

"But I do," she interrupted softly, flinching
at his sharp look.

"What?"

"I've decided to attend a birthday picnic with
Celeste and her brothers on Tuesday, and I'll probably go to other events with
them as well."

"Are you serious?" he asked, appearing both
stunned and confused for a man who was usually so confident. "You yourself
admitted to me that you prefer to stay at home, that you want a quiet
life."

"I'm not so sure anymore, Adam," she began,
trying to sound uncertain as she spun her hastily concocted explanation.
"I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, during the voyage and then
over this past week. I just hadn't found the right moment to talk about it with
you yet . . ."

When she made a pretense of faltering, his voice became
gentle despite his palpable impatience. "Go on," he encouraged her,
his gaze intent.

"When I lived at Fairford, I had no desire to go
out because it wasn't my home. The people there were Aunt Melicent's friends,
not mine. It all seemed so pointless, their constant card parties and balls. I
always knew I'd return to Virginia one day, and now that I'm here, I'd like to
see more of the Tidewater and meet the people who knew my father. I don't see
any harm in it, Adam. Papa would have wanted me to be happy here. To make
friends. He wouldn't have liked me to shut myself away from everybody."

Susanna sighed softly, thinking how in truth, Camille
might have said those words. Feeling suddenly very much an impostor, she looked
down at her hands. Her next words, something Camille had shared with her, she
doubted she could tell Adam to his face without giving herself away.

"Actually, I'd like to be more like my mother.
Papa didn't speak of her often, I think it was too painful for him, but he once
told me that she was as vivacious as a spring morning, and that she loved to
dance. Everybody liked her, and they used to have parties here a lot, before
she and my brothers . . ."

Susanna was unable to continue for the tightness in her
throat. Long moments passed during which she still couldn't bring herself to look
at him, but she knew from his silence that he was carefully pondering what she
had said. Finally, when she heard him lean back in the chair, his movement
carrying with it a sense of resignation, she knew she had convinced him. She
met his eyes.

"All right, Camille, all right. God knows, I want
you to be happy and to do whatever you think will make you feel more at home
here. I guess I should be thankful that at least I'll be able to accompany you,
unless something occurs here that needs my attention. "

Her immense relief that she could finally shed her
oppressive shyness and act more like herself was immediately checked by
surprise. "You will?" she asked, his response not at all what she had
anticipated. Bloody hell! How was she ever going to encourage other suitors
with Adam dogging her every step? "Th-that's wonderful, Adam."

"Yes, though there's another thing you should know
about your friend Celeste. She believes I'm interested in courting her . . . in
fact, she welcomes it. It wasn't my idea to walk with her in the garden this
afternoon, but her father's. I think he wants a crop master for a
son-in-law."

Susanna felt unexpected and wholly preposterous
jealousy. Celeste was interested in marrying Adam? Surely that had to be
another one of his lies.

"She invited me to accompany all of you on your
outings, but only after I assured her that I had no interest in courting you
myself." Adam rose from the chair, clearly exasperated, and began to pace
the floor, his limp more pronounced now that he had been sitting for a while.
He seemed to be wrestling with some issue when he stopped and faced her
squarely.

"Camille, I know you don't want to be rushed and I
have no wish to pressure you, but the secretive nature of our courtship must
end! I won't have Celeste fawning all over me while I watch you being hounded
by her brother . . . or any other man for that matter. Dammit, I'll move into
my office, if that's what it takes to prevent any malicious rumors. I'll do
anything to protect you and your reputation, but I won't stand for this charade
any longer!"

Susanna was stunned by his outburst. All she knew was
that her plan to keep him at Briarwood for as long as necessary was about to
crash down around her like a flimsy house of cards, unless she thought of
something fast.

"I-I don't want you to move out," she
stammered, rising shakily to her feet. "I want you to stay near me, Adam.
I like having you so close, and I don't want to be in this big house alone.
Please . . . can't we go on as we have been for a few more weeks? Then I
promise you we'll announce our betrothal. It's been so lovely . . . so romantic
having our own little secret, just like in the books I used to read. Please,
just for a little while longer . . ."

Adam was tempted to sweep her into his arms, the plea
in her beautiful eyes enough to make him relent, but it wasn't just the two of
them involved anymore.

"What of Matthew and Celeste Grymes?" he
asked. "And what of those other gentlemen who've been surrounding you all
day? Is it fair to so mislead everyone?"

She appeared to choose her words carefully. "I
suppose . . . it depends on whose interests you have at heart, Adam," she
finally said softly, a playful tone creeping into her voice. "Theirs . . .
or mine."

He regarded her quizzically. "You know my answer
to that."

"Then I don't see that there's any problem, do
you? It could actually be fun . . . our deception."

Adam exhaled slowly, thinking with amusement that he
didn't know this woman very well. It seemed that there was a mischievous vixen
hiding within his timid mouse, a spirited and naughty side to her that might
prove most entertaining once they were wed.