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“Oh, yes!” she said.

He smiled. “Now go to bed,” he said and stepped away. “I will too, because now at least I can sleep again. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, for God’s sake,” he said, “get upstairs, because one moment more and I’ll haul you up there and will not be responsible for what happens next.”

“Oh, good,” she said with a grin.

He hesitated, then smiled, bowed, turned, and went off into the night again. She didn’t go upstairs until she could no longer see him. Though she discovered that she still did, even when she at last closed her eyes and went to sleep with a smile on her lips at the sight.

 

It was so cold that their boots made squeaking sounds on the snow as they walked along the side of the bridle path. He took her hand and led her behind a snow-laden fir tree. There, in the blue and white shadows, he stopped and looked down at
her. Then he lowered his head and feathered a kiss on her upturned lips.

His mouth was warm, and her blood ran hot, so Camille opened her mouth against his and held on to Eric’s shoulders to make sure he didn’t let her go.

He caught his breath, raised his head, and looked into her eyes. “I’m going to ask Miles for his permission when we return to the house.”

“He’s out,” she said breathlessly, “and will be until late. I want to be there when you tell him. I know! Ask him on Saturday before the party. That will be such a good surprise.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “If he says no, be at your window at midnight,” he eventually said in a hoarse voice against her ear, as he rocked her in his arms. “I’ll be below with two horses and a road map. We’ll be in Scotland and in our marriage bed by dawn.”

She laughed and kissed him again. When she had to stop at last to take a breath, she complained. “I can’t feel your skin! Your neckcloth’s too high. You’re wearing gloves and a greatcoat. It’s like making love to a woolen stocking!”

He put her at arm’s length and stared down at her, his eyes dancing with light. “I’m supposed to say that.”

She actually blushed. He was charmed. “But I don’t mind you saying it,” he added, drawing her back into his arms.

“I say what I mean,” she said seriously, gazing
up at him. “I’ve no patience for girlish games. So if that’s what you want, you’ll have to find another woman. I know I’m not in the common way, and I suppose…”

He kissed her until she forgot what she was going to say or suppose, as well as the cold, the park, and the fact that they were both dressed to the ears.

But he couldn’t forget where they were, not with the feelings her hot little tongue kindled in him. When it became too frustrating, he pulled away again and looked down into her flushed face. “You are exactly what I’ve always wanted. Never forget it. So. Saturday night we become officially engaged and marry as soon as decently possible?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s celebrate prematurely tonight,” he said. “But we have to move on now. We can’t stand here like erotic statues all day. That would be fine in India—I must show you a book I have of them—after we’re married of course—but it’s not the thing here in Regent’s Park. There are others foolish enough to go riding on such a frigid day, ardent lovers and ardent horsemen. It wouldn’t do for us to be discovered yet.”

She didn’t move, only stood staring up at him.

“It would ruin our surprise,” he said, touching a gloved finger to the tip of her nose.

She only gazed up at him, smiling.

He returned her smile. “Your groom’s being polite, but the poor fellow’s probably freezing. And the horses can’t stand until they look like statues.”

“Oh! My poor Hermes!” she cried, stepping back. “I forgot, of course. Let’s ride on.”

He was amused at how concern for her horse could supercede all her other desires, even ones for him. But his smile faded at what she said next.

“But we can’t celebrate tonight,” she said as they hurried to where the groom was waiting with their horses. “There’s that concert I promised to go to with Dana Bartlett. No one will know about our engagement until Saturday night, and I can’t disappoint him—at least, no more than I must when he hears our news, I suppose. I think he’s been wooing me.”

“Well, so long as it’s only something you think,” he said, “then I suppose I can be generous and let him live.”

She stopped and turned a rosy face up to his. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

He didn’t have to ask what she meant. He smiled at her tenderly. “I keep asking myself that too. But it is. We’re going to marry, you and I, and as soon as I can arrange it. Never doubt it, or me.”

“It seems too good to be true,” she said with a worried look.

“It’s true and nothing can stop…”

She clapped a gloved hand over his mouth. “Never say it!” she whispered, horrified.

“So,” he said, taking her hand in his, “you don’t have a missish bone in your whole beautiful body, but you have a lot of superstitious ones?”

She nodded, wide-eyed.

“I don’t,” he said, “but I won’t upset you.”

“Eric,” she said, her eyes searching his, “please. Never say that nothing can stop us getting married. At least not until after you say ‘I do.’ To me,” she added fastidiously.

He considered her a moment, and then, remembering the damned disease that had almost leveled him, his own expression grew grave. He nodded. “I promise. But don’t doubt me. I’ll never go back on my word.”

“I know,” she said. “I wish that was all that mattered.” She wasn’t thinking of his malarial fever. That was a thing she would deal with if and when it ever recurred. She was thinking of all the things that might change his mind about her, from his finally realizing she was not beautiful to his meeting the real woman of his dreams.

He began to speak again and closed his lips. He couldn’t know her thoughts, but he knew his own too well. There was nothing he could say to reassure her. Or himself.

D
ana’s expression changed so drastically Camille became alarmed. His eyes went flat, his mouth thinned. His dark complexion grew pale, looking sallow in the light of the lantern set at the side of the coach. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone about her plans before Eric made the announcement, but it wouldn’t have been fair to let what Dana had just said go unanswered.

“So,” she went on nervously, twisting her hands in her lap, “though I’m both flattered and grateful for the honor you do me, I must respectfully decline your kind offer.”

They were alone in the carriage after their night at the concert, waiting for Nell. At the last minute she’d said she had to visit the convenience and had
hurriedly left the coach at the curb and dashed back into the concert hall. Camille hadn’t known if it was the girl’s overactive bladder or whatever gentleman she had eyed during the concert that made her leave so suddenly, but now she suspected Nell had gone because she knew what her cousin wanted to say and was giving him the privacy in which to do it.

The moment they were alone, Dana had seized her hand and made his offer of marriage. Camille was startled and saddened by it. She’d turned down other men’s proposals, but few had made her feel so bad. He was not only shocked and unhappy. He seemed angry.

“Dana, you’re a good man and a fine catch for any girl,” she said earnestly. “But not for me, because I’ve already found my future husband. He is Eric Ford,” she said, unable to hide her smile as she said the name. “I didn’t cancel tonight’s outing, although I suppose I ought to have. But I didn’t know what you intended and I didn’t know my future for certain until this very morning. The announcement won’t be made until tomorrow night at our party.

“In fact, you’re the first one who knows it, so please don’t tell anyone else yet. But I thought it was only fair to tell you,” she went on, “because I didn’t want you to think it was any fault in you that made me refuse you. I hope you’ll still come tomorrow too. Nell’s expecting you, and you know I’ll always consider you a friend.”

“That is not quite what I wanted,” he said stiffly. Then, as though realizing he was being churlish, he
added, “But I wish you well. If ever you change your mind, please believe I will continue to be at your service.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes that seemed like ages. Then Nell came into the carriage, rosy-cheeked and breathless. She was smiling until she saw her cousin’s expression. Then her smile vanished, and she sidled into her seat and sat as silent as they were all the way back home.

They stayed silent until Dana walked them to the front door. “If I may have a few words with my cousin?” he asked when they got there.

“Of course, come in,” Camille said.

“Oh, I think here is as good a place as any,” he said.

“But it’s cold out tonight,” Camille said, noticing that their words came out like puffs of white smoke in the frigid air. She looked from one of them to the other. Neither looked happy.

“It won’t take but a moment,” he said brusquely.

Camille nodded, said good night, and went in, the footman shutting the door behind her.

“You knew of this?” Dana asked Nell the moment they were alone.

“She turned you down? How could I know that?”

“She turned me down because she’s going to marry Eric Ford.”

Nell cocked her head. “Is she? Or is she just saying so? If wishes were horses, beggars would be riding all round the town.”

“They’re announcing it tomorrow night.”

“That I didn’t know,” she said in amazement. “She’s a slyboots after all. She fooled me.”

“She’s no more sly than a puppy. She said he just asked, and of course, she hopped at the chance to have him.”

She shrugged. “He’s her brother’s friend. It could be an old promise he has to keep. That explains why he didn’t respond to me. I was being careful not to get Camille’s nose out of joint, but he’s a man. A capon could have seen what I was offering, and he’s far from that.”

“You can’t see past your mirror,” he said furiously. “Every male who doesn’t want to lift your skirts isn’t denying himself. It wasn’t only her social position that made me decide upon her. She’s a desirable woman. Ford has the taste to see that too.”

Her expression showed she didn’t believe him, but she was shivering in the cold. “So what are you going to do?” Nell asked, shifting from foot to foot.

“Remains to be seen,” he said thoughtfully. “There’s many a slip twixt the cup and the lip, and the ring and the altar too. I’ll be here Saturday night.”

He turned and left her abruptly without so much as a farewell. She shrugged again, then raised the doorknocker to get back into the house, to hear more of Camille’s news.

But Camille had gone straight up to bed after bidding her brother and sister-in-law good night.

 

“Your sister’s got a secret,” Belle told Miles as she settled into bed beside him that night. She made an angry huffing sound and pounded her pillow before she flung her head down on it. “She ran upstairs like a scalded cat tonight, not even bothering to stop and gossip with me. And she was smiling to herself.”

“I know,” Miles said, looking as troubled as his wife was. “That’s not like her. She’s been dreamy all day and was worse tonight. Do you think it’s something to do with Dana Bartlett? He’s not a bad fellow, but I confess, I’d hopes…”


She
had hopes,” Belle said angrily. “Very different ones too.”

“I know.” Miles sighed. “Who does not? She’s clear as running water. Her dreams are there to see in her eyes. But it’s better that she doesn’t end up with Eric if his heart isn’t involved. You know, I confess I had a secret fear he might offer simply out of friendship for us. That wouldn’t do, not for someone as passionate as our Cammie.”

“My only hope is that she hasn’t given up on him completely,” his wife said darkly. “Because whatever Dana Bartlett is or is not, he’s clever. If he realized where her heart was fixed and then saw she was getting discouraged because she felt Eric would never see her as a possible wife, he might use it. Bartlett may be using that to persuade her to look at him more seriously. That would never do. It
wouldn’t be the first time a woman saved her vanity by taking another man when she couldn’t get the one she wanted.”

Miles didn’t answer. He lay very still.

“Oh,” she cried. She sat up and turned to him. “Oh, no! Oh, never, my love! We’ve been through that so many times. Miles, I did marry you for all the wrong reasons, but before God, you ought to know by now that it turned out to be for every good reason I didn’t even know enough to hope for. I do love you to distraction, and the only reason I don’t tell you about it all the time is that I don’t want you getting too complaisant, because that would change who you are and why I love you and…”

She had to finish her comment against his lips. He pulled her close and kissed her until she had nothing to say but murmurs of desire.

“I know,” he finally said, looking into her dazzled eyes. “I do know.” He smiled. “But how could I get you so romantically inclined tonight if I didn’t pretend not to know? You seemed so wide awake and eager to do nothing but gossip. But you look so beautiful tonight that I couldn’t help trying to make you feel just a little apologetic and eager to please. Ouch!” He laughed as she swatted him with a pillow.

He retaliated in a different way. And then they found nothing to laugh about but much to sigh about. Camille’s secret could wait. They had more vital things to do.

 

Miles slapped Eric’s broad back and then shook his hand vigorously.

“I couldn’t be happier!” Miles said again. “So that’s why she’s been smiling like a little cat that got into the cream. You’re going to be my brother-in-law! I could not be happier for you both—and myself and my Annabelle. She’ll be so pleased, Eric, this is such good news!”

“Well, then, you could stop punching me,” Eric said, rubbing a shoulder that Miles had just buffeted.

“I could drop a piano on you, and you wouldn’t notice. Lord! But this is happy news. We thought it might be Bartlett who had her smiling so much last night and this morning.”

Eric stopped rubbing his shoulder. “Well, that’s a relief. I thought you were just eager to get her off your hands. Seriously, you didn’t think she wanted Dana Bartlett?”


He
certainly wants her, you can see it in his eyes, and he’s been haunting the place since he met her. He said he’d provide a home for Nell, but he’s been mighty slow to find one. It was obvious he was using the delay to court Camille, because so far as I can see, there’s little affection between the cousins. Speaking of which, now that I know
you
were haunting the place because of Cammie, I can tell you that’s an odd bit of goods you landed on us.”

Eric frowned. “Nell? Aye, she is that. The sooner she’s gone the better. And I wasn’t the one to land
her on you, that was Cammie’s doing. Your good wife invited her, but I suspect Camille had much to do with it. We’ll have a houseful of strays, I think. But at least I can hope she’ll take my advice on which ones to take in.”

“Good luck with that,” Miles murmured. “But come, we have to tell Belle.”

“I think all you have to do is open the door,” Eric said with a smile.

“No, he does not!” Belle said, as she threw open the door and marched in, wreathed in smiles. “I wondered why you would ask for a private interview with Miles. Why should you be so formal after all these years? So I asked Cammie.”

“And I told her!” Camille sang out from the doorway “Because I didn’t think Miles would turn you down.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Miles said. “It was a close thing. Having Eric for a brother-in law will certainly cost us. We’re close, so you’ll be visiting all the time, and just think of the grocer’s bill.”

They laughed a great deal, and amidst all the hugging and kissing, Miles called for a bottle of the best.

They drank a toast to the newly engaged pair.

Then Belle set her glass down firmly. “No more. You may get drunk as a pair of sows tonight, gentlemen, but as for now, we have to make ready for the party. Now it will have to be a grander affair.” She waved a hand to still Camille’s protests. “I’ll have to send to the florists and the baker and—
well, never mind. This will be an unforgettable night. Too bad your mama won’t be here,” she added. Miles and Camille exchanged grins. “But my mama, as ever, will be thrilled to take her place. Now, who’s going to make the announcement? It should be at midnight.”

“I leave that decision to you,” Eric said, sketching a bow, though keeping his arm around Camille. “I’ve already made mine.”

“Then midnight it is,” Belle said. “Miles will call for silence and make the announcement and raise a toast. Then you can toast Camille.”

Eric looked down at Camille. “Gladly. And then we can be married.”

“If only it were as easy as that,” Belle started to say. “There are plans to be made and—”

“We want to be married with as little delay as is socially permissible. Don’t we?” he asked Camille.

“I wouldn’t even bother with the socially permissible,” she said thoughtfully.

Eric’s arm tightened around her waist as Miles laughed.

Belle smiled. “That’s a discussion for another day. Now we have a gala to prepare for! One that will be memorable.”

 

“I think they already know,” Eric whispered to Camille.

She looked around her brother’s crowded grand salon and saw many of the guests, most of them old friends, smiling back at her. “Well, they look happy
enough. I’m sorry, I didn’t tell anyone—well, except for Dana, and only because I had to. I suppose he told Nell, but I don’t think she knows anyone here. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. But I think they guess. I just can’t stop grinning—or looking at you.”

“Neither can I—I mean grinning and looking at you. Lord! But you look lovely tonight.”

She preened, holding out a fold of her skirt. Her gown was a long, silvery green column of silk, artfully draped beneath the breasts to give her figure definition. “Isn’t this a lovely gown? But I look good because I’m glowing, and the radiance is because of you. And don’t you look fine! Oh, Eric,” she said softly, “you are just the most handsome man!”

She sighed with pleasure as she gazed at him. He looked superb in formal evening dress. He didn’t wear the fobs and fripperies of the dandy set but was commanding in black and white, the only color the slate-blue pattern in his waistcoat, the gleam in his golden-brown and green eyes, and the glow of his honey-hued hair.

“Now I know we have to get your eyes examined—after we marry,” he said, taking her hand. “But if you think so, it makes all the effort worth it. Do you know how hard my poor valet worked tonight? This neckcloth is so full of starch I could drop dead and still hold my head high. And if my jacket were any tighter, my hands would be numb. I suffer for you. It’s worth it if you like the effect. But you’re not supposed to tell me so, even if
I looked like an Adonis instead of a mammoth tarted up to look like a gentleman. You’re only supposed to giggle, remember? And then bat me with your fan—or eyelashes.”

“Actually,” she said, “I prefer you in your riding clothes.” Actually, she thought, she’d rather have seen him without a high neckcloth, so she could have seen the strong column of his powerful neck. In fact, she dreamed of seeing him with his collar opened, his shirt opened, his…

“The joy of having a girl with a tattletale complexion,” he murmured, bending so he could speak in her ear, “is that a fellow knows when she’s having wicked thoughts. Now you’ve gone from a glow to a blush. I wonder what I can do to raise it to a fever?”

They laughed.

Their company stole glances at them, and most of them smiled.

Some, of course, did not.

Dana watched the proceedings with no expression at all. Because he was Nell’s cousin he had to be invited. To have done otherwise would have been to add insult to injury. He had come, but he was not happy about it.

Nell glided through the room wearing her usual serene expression. A trail of love-struck young men followed her. She wasn’t eligible, they all knew that. But she was a heroine, and so damned lovely that they wished they could afford her, however she could be maintained.

BOOK: Edith Layton
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