Duel of Hearts (17 page)

“Is it?
Is
anything amiss?” Edward asked, following her into the drawing room.

“Nothing … and everything,” she answered enigmatically. “Sit down, Edward. I have a great deal to tell you, and I don't know how to say it or how much time I shall be given to make myself clear.

At the Maitlands' ball, Tony Ingalls was feeling as elated as his friend North was feeling irritable. For North, the sight of Corianne under the chaperonage of her aunt had been a source of considerable disappointment. In fact, he'd been so chagrined at the absence of his quarry, Middleton, that he'd gone out on the Maitlands' terrace (in spite of the rain and a rather frigid wind) and expelled a number of vulgar epithets into the night air.

But Tony was having better luck. Lady Stanborough had left him in charge of Corianne. With the assurance of North's help, he had every confidence that at last his campaign to win her hand would succeed. North, having eased his anger during his moments out-of-doors, and having nothing better to do for the next two hours (an appointment with a certain lady-bird had been arranged for half-past midnight), was ready to render his friend his promised assistance.

While the dancing was proceeding full tilt in the ballroom on the first floor, Ingalls and North persuaded Corianne to accompany them to the upper floor to see the famous Romney portrait of Lord Maitland's mother. Tony led the unsuspecting girl into the library. North, who'd been walking alongside the pair, winked at Ingalls behind Corianne's back, closed the door behind them and took a place nearby to guard the door against any intruder who might wish to enter.

Inside, Corianne turned a started face to the door which had closed behind her. “What's happened to Lord North?” she inquired, suddenly uncomfortable.

“He'll be back in a moment,” Ingalls said with a disarming smile. “There's the portrait, just behind you over the fireplace.”

Corianne turned, walked over to the fireplace and studied the painting. “She was very lovely, wasn't she?” she said admiringly.

Following his instructions, Ingalls didn't waste time in idle chatter. “Not nearly as lovely as you,” he said effusively, coming close and pulling her to him abruptly.

“Mr.
Ingalls
!” Corianne gasped in horrified shock. “What are you
doing
?”

But Tony ignored her gasp. He clutched her tightly with one arm while he grasped the back of her head with his free hand and pulled her face to his. “You're the loveliest girl I've ever known,” he murmured, his lips against her cheek.

“Let me
go
!” Corianne cried, pushing against him with all her strength. But the vile creature only grinned and pressed his mouth to hers. Corianne could hardly breathe. She waved her arms helplessly about, but he was conscious only of his power over her, the softness of her body against his and the smell of the scent she'd dabbed behind her ears. Again and again he kissed her, murmuring incoherent little endearments, barely permitting her to catch her breath. Desperately, she stretched out her hands to the mantelpiece behind him. Her fingers reached a large porcelain vase. She clutched it with both her hands and, trembling with fury, she lifted it as high as she could and let it crash down upon his head.

Ingalls dropped to the floor like a stone, completely unconscious. Corianne stared at him in horror for a moment and then flew to the door. Throwing it open, she found Lord North standing there. “Oh, my lord!” she cried, casting herself into his arms. “I've
killed
him!”

“
What?
” Lord North looked over her shoulder into the room where Tony lay motionless amid the debris of the broken vase. “Good God!” he exclaimed. “What on earth have you
done
, you silly widgeon?”

“He … He …
attacked
me!” Corianne said, trembling from head to toe and beginning to sob.

North extricated himself from her embrace. “Stay right there. Don't move,” he ordered. “And stop sniveling. You don't want to attract a crowd, do you?” He strode over to Tony's prostrate body and knelt beside him. He turned his friend's face toward him and, to his relief, Tony groaned. “So you're
not
dead,” he said drily.

“Wha' happened?” Tony asked stupidly. A large lump was growing at the top of his crown, and a small trickle of blood was making its way down his face.

“Nothing. You botched it. The girl floored you.”

“Floored me? How?”

“With a vase, obviously. Are you all right? Can you stand?”

Tony lifted his head, wincing in pain. “Yes, I … think so.”

Corianne, standing miserably in the doorway, gave a tearful cry of relief. “He's
not
d-dead…” she said in a choked whisper.

Ingalls threw her a look of bitter accusation. “No thanks to you,” he said, putting a hand to his aching head.

Corianne came into the room with a gingerly step. “It's your own f-fault,” she declared, quivering. “You must have gone mad!” With a trembling underlip, she turned to Lord North, who was surveying them both with an air of extreme disgust. “I want to g-go home,” she said pathetically.

“Very well,” Ingalls said, allowing North to help him to his feet. “If you'll wait until this dizziness passes, I'll take you.”

“
You?
” Cory squealed in alarm. “
Never
! I shall never permit myself to be alone with you again!”

“But Cory…!” He wobbled unsteadily toward her. “I promised your aunt—”

She backed away from him nervously. “I don't
care
! I won't go with you!”

North intervened, taking Ingalls aside and speaking to him with quiet authority. “The girl's right, Tony. You've botched it. And forcing her to go with you now will only make things worse. You look a sight, anyway. Why don't you clean yourself up and slip out of here quietly? Get a night's rest. Tomorrow will be soon enough to find a way to smooth over this disaster.”

Tony nodded in gloomy acquiescence. “All right. Will you take her home?”

North shrugged. “I suppose I shall have to.”

In his carriage, Corianne grew calmer. She had been appalled by Ingalls' unprecedented behavior, but the incident was over now with no permanent harm done. Her mind quickly moved to more immediate matters; there was an opportunity right at hand. Here in his carriage, she was alone with Frozen North for the first time! It was the best opportunity yet for her to make a mark on him. She glanced at his immobile face opposite her. He looked frozen indeed. “Are you qu-quite angry with m-me, my lord?” she asked with charming shyness.

“Angry?” His voice was completely indifferent. “Why
should
I be? Your affairs of the heart have nothing to do with me.”

“That was
not
an affair of the heart!” Cory declared pugnaciously. “I have no such … er …
relationship
with Mr. Ingalls.”

“Oh?” his lordship inquired coolly. “Then why did you lead him on?”

“Did he say I led him on?” she asked, outraged. “If he did, he's shamming it shamefully. I
never
did so.”

Lord North raised an eyebrow. “Didn't you? I have eyes, you know. Do you think you can run sly with
me
, my dear?”

This was the sort of conversation Corianne truly enjoyed. It centered on herself, had a touch of flirtatiousness about it, and it could lead to all sorts of promising outcomes. “I didn't know you
ever
took notice of me, my lord,” she said coyly.

He smiled at her disdainfully. “How can I
not
have noticed you? You've thrust yourself under my nose at every opportunity.”

Cory drew herself up in mock offense. “How
can
you say such rude things to me? It's quite unkind of you, sir.”

“Yes, it is. I'm not much known for my kindness.”

“Yet you
can
be kind, I know. You're being kind by taking me home like this,” she suggested, smiling at him enticingly.

“Save your flirtatiousness for the younger men, Miss Lindsay,” he said coldly, completely dampening her spirit. “I'm not attracted to the coquetry of children.”

Corianne, abashed, withdrew to the corner of her seat. The silence in the coach grew oppressive, and she was conscious of the fact that her best chance to impress him was dissipating rapidly. “Can you tell me the time, my lord?” she asked desperately, in a weak attempt to stir conversation up again.

He took a watch from his waistcoat pocket and examined it. “Almost eleven-thirty,” he said with a slight yawn.

Sarah had been trying for the past half-hour to explain to Edward the plan she had in mind. But she feared he might object to it … or, worse, storm out of the house in disgust. This fear affected her normally sharp mental processes and the clarity of her expression. She resorted, instead, to a kind of circumlocution by which she hoped she could make her plan clear to him without actually saying the words. “Do you see, Edward,” she asked for the third time, “that a quick and dramatic act might be the very way to push Corianne over the brink?”

Edward was eyeing her with bemused tolerance. “No, I'm afraid I don't see. You have thus far only presented me with a number of incoherencies which make no sense to me at all.”

Sarah gave a nervous little laugh. “Yes, I know. But you
do
understand that I have a plan to make Corianne see the light … and we are to execute that plan tonight?”

“Yes, I understand that much. But I told you this afternoon that there was no need for hurry. What you haven't made clear is why you've brought me here in the dead of night for something we'd agreed earlier was not a pressing problem.”

She took a turn about the room, wringing her hands in agitation. “It is a more pressing problem than you realize,” she said earnestly.

“I can see
one
thing, Sarah,” Edward said grinning, a grin which had its usual devastating effect on her insides. “I was quite wrong about your being serene. As a matter of fact, you are being rather charmingly distracted. I only wish I knew why.”

“I'm
trying
to explain, Edward. Really I am. It's just so … difficult…”

Edward came up to her and put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her. “I wish you could feel free to come to the point. I promise I won't eat you. There's nothing you can say, you know, which would affect my respect and admiration for you.”

“I wish I could be sure of that,” she muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?” he asked.

At that moment, however, she heard a carriage draw to a stop outside. “Oh, good
God!
” she cried in trepidation. “They're
here
! And I haven't even
begun
to explain—!”

“Explain
what? Who's
here?” Edward asked, utterly confused.

“Never mind that now. There's no time! Just come here and sit down beside me!” Grasping his hand, she pulled him to the sofa and pushed him down, seating herself beside him. The sofa stood directly opposite the doorway of the drawing room. The door had been left open, and anyone passing it on the way to the stairs would be bound to see them. “There, that's it,” Sarah muttered distractedly. “Now, put your arms around me …
quickly
!”

“What?” Edward asked, astounded.

She lifted his arms and placed them firmly around her waist. “Now, Edward, try not to be too shocked. I want you to …
kiss
me!”

Edward gaped at her. “You can't mean—!”

“Yes, I
do!
” She threw her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his. “Kiss me, Edward … as if you
really mean it
!” she demanded and closed her eyes.

Chapter Thirteen

E
DWARD WAS ONLY HUMAN
, after all. Sarah's face was close to his, tilted up with unwittingly enticing charm. The glow of the firelight and the few candles which lit the room gave her skin an amber warmth. The lashes of her closed eyes brushed against her cheeks with a faint tremor, and her lips were moist and inviting. So … in spite of a feeling of complete bewilderment, Edward did as he was bid. He kissed her.

She shivered in his arms. Without thought, he tightened the slack hold he'd had on her waist. The movement seemed to comfort her, for he could feel her relax against him. The touch of her lips on his was intoxicating. The bewilderment that had troubled his mind suddenly swirled away, as a dream does when one is abruptly awakened. He was aware only of a sensation of surprised pleasure … and a desire that this moment should not end.

Her arms tightened around his neck. “Don't move,” she murmured, not taking her lips from his.

“No, never,” he answered foolishly, pressing her to him hungrily, as if to prove by action as well as word that he intended never to let her go.

Outside, on the stone steps leading to the front door, Corianne was detaining Lord North. “You see, my lord? There is a light in the drawing room.” She fluttered her lashes appealingly. “You must come in and explain things to my aunt. I'm much too upset to be able to talk about it.”

“You're an artful little creature, aren't you, Miss Lindsay?” his lordship queried sardonically. “You know quite well that your aunt has taken her cold up to bed an hour ago.”

“Then it must be Sarah,” Corianne persisted mendaciously. “You can explain it all to
her
.” She knew that Sarah never waited up for her. It was the only pretense she could find, however, for prolonging her
tête-à-tête
.

Lord North looked at her with sudden interest. “Sarah? Does she always wait up for you?”

Corianne couldn't meet his eyes. “Most of the time,” she said sweetly, looking down at her shoes. The words were said in flagrant disregard of the truth and the twinges of her conscience.