His Heart's Delight (30 page)

He called on his considerable if rarely used
control. He would stop her now, but he would not give up. He loved
her too much to abandon her, but he was going to play this hand as
carefully as any in his life. There was more than money
involved.

Pushing away from her he used his body to
shield her from anyone else who might happen onto the patio. The
brick wall was behind her, cool in the warm night. He welcomed the
roughness against his hands where they circled her. It helped
distract him from the fire she had so very effectively lit.

He looked at her intently, not sure if
censure was what she needed, but sure it would bring her back to
her senses.

“Oh, God,” she moaned and deep racking sobs
followed. She looked down and made to move away, but Morgan knew
exactly how to handle this. He pulled her close and held her
closer, murmuring wordless encouragement. The tears were a far
safer release than a kiss and he held her until the sobs ended and
her breathing evened.

“There, my love, are you feeling better?” He
tried to see himself as a kindly uncle and ignored the ache that
cast him as a lover.

She pushed out of his arms with an abrupt
energy he had not expected. She turned from him and faced the wall
that surrounded the garden. Summer bloomed all around them and even
though the flowers were shrouded in the darkness, their fragrance
bathed them in an evocative scent.

“You sound like some doddering guardian, my
lord. I am feeling better, thank you. Mortification has an uncanny
way of erasing more meaningful feelings.”

He smiled at the row of buttons on her dress
and reached out to turn her just a little. “Christy, my dear, sweet
angel, confusion makes us do things we’d never contemplate in our
saner moments. And confusion mixed with grief you are certainly
allowed.”

He turned her around to face him. She turned
willingly though she would not look him in the eye until he tapped
her nose. “No, no more tears.” She took a deep breath and a small
smile replaced the tremble of her chin. “Your mother has shown
admirable restraint in sending no one to look for us, but soon even
your father will look up from the card table and wonder where you
are.”

“You give me far more credit than I deserve.
It would take more than a missing daughter to take Father from his
evening cards.” The smile grew, a little cynical when he would have
preferred happy, but he would not worry over details. “And Mama is
so caught up in Joanna’s engagement that she’ll not think of me
until she wants to release every pent-up feeling...”

He knew why her voice trailed off. Like
mother, like daughter. The thought passed through his mind as well.
“No, no. No more regrets. It was a kiss to end all kisses my dear.
Let me hold on to that thought.”

She blushed now with pure embarrassment and
he seized the moment to satisfy himself. So much nobility could be
wearing.

He deserved a small reward.

He pulled her closer, ever so gently, and
whispered against her lips, “Now kiss me sweetly and not like some
desperate spinster.”

Despite his invitation, it was Morgan who
kissed her this time. First his lips touched hers gently, as gently
as a butterfly lands on a rose. A caress, all softness and delight,
he moved his lips over every inch of her mouth, lifting then
settling again, a light tasting that renewed pleasure with each
touch. Finally, he settled his mouth on hers, deepening the kiss
just a bit until he tasted the soft inside of her lip. He stopped
one brief moment before the kiss became more than he planned, but
he stopped considerably short of satisfied.

She was smiling when he lifted his head, her
eyes soft and shinning. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He wanted to ask her what she was thanking
him for, but decided it would be better if neither one of them
knew. Instead, he offered her his arm and escorted her into the
drawing room. They parted as soon as they entered the room and when
he looked about a moment later she was listening to her aunt and
mother as they chattered on about some nonsense. If they noted she
was a little disheveled they did not comment. But then no one
noticed what he saw now for the first time in a long while.

He recalled the night they met, the way she
had flashed that smile at him, the smile that invited him across
the room and shocked him into awareness. She might never be quite
that bold again, but her love of life was back; he could see it in
her eyes, in the way she responded to her mother, in the way she
glanced around the room for someone to share a private joke with.
He caught her eye and the smile became a laugh, which disappeared
as quickly as her mother questioned her levity.

He could not hear what she said, but he
watched her suck in her cheeks to hold back the laughter. He turned
away, afraid if he watched her much longer he would lose all sense.
He walked toward the card room but he moved slowly, letting his
imagination do what he could not.

“W
hy does it have to
rain tonight of all nights?” Joanna stared out the bedroom window
as if sheer will would lighten the sky. “The moon is full and I so
wanted to be able to see the stars.”

“It will be perfect, Joanna. You wait and
see.” Christiana hurried the rest of her toilette. This was
Joanna’s night and vanity was her sister’s alone to command.

“How can it be lovely when the weather is
not?” Joanna sounded as perplexed as a man in a milliner’s
shop.

“The rain will make everyone more relaxed.
You will see. They must hurry indoors and there will be a jumble of
people in the hall.” She took her sister’s arm and urged her to the
door. “They will all look just a little wet and so no one will
worry too much if their dress is a little wrinkled or their hair a
little damp. You watch, tonight will be a dream come true.”

Apparently mollified, Joanna turned from the
window. “One wish has come true. You and Lord Morgan are friends
again.”

“We are.” She nodded and refused to blush. It
was obvious they had renewed their friendship. They had spent the
better part of the day in each other’s company.

“Of course there were plenty of chaperones
for the two of you, but he was never far.” She paused dramatically
then added, “Except for that time when he and Papa went off to the
stables.”

“Oh, Joanna, please, I assure you there is
only going to be one engagement announced tonight.”

Her sister actually looked disappointed.

“Jo, that is as it should be. Tonight is your
night. Yours and John’s. And I promise you the rain will only make
it more special.”

She was right. As she explained to Lord
Morgan later as they stood by the punch bowl, “It helps that
everyone knows each other. I think it is so much more convivial
than the balls in London.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Are you paying any attention at all? You are
looking at me, but I think your mind must be someplace else
entirely.”

“Sprite, I am hanging on your every
smile.”

She grinned. She could not help it. He was
such an engaging flirt. “Well, do you agree with me? Is this not
more friendly than any number of balls we attended?”

“I suppose, but we are of a different mind
now as well. That might have as much to do with it as
anything.”

“Oh.”

“The only unfortunate consequence of the rain
is that there is no garden to wander in.”

“I do believe the conservatory is open. And
there is always the portrait gallery.”

Lord Morgan offered her his arm.

“No.”

He looked confused if not disappointed and
Christiana hurried to explain.

“We must only wait until Papa announces
Joanna’s engagement.” She nodded toward the small platform that the
musicians were playing on. Her father was there, attempting to
climb up to make his announcement. But each time he made a move,
his wife would pull him back for one more consultation. Finally
with an exasperated grimace, Lambert offered to let his wife take
his place. She shook her head and moved back with an irritated
huff.

“Oh, Mama.” Christiana laughed and turned to
Lord Morgan. “Do you think I will be that managing?”

“You are her daughter.” Morgan appeared to be
giving the matter some thought. She wanted to slap his wrist with
her fan, but feared that would prove the point. “No, no, my dear, I
think that you will learn from your experience and find your own
way to rule a household.”

The room quieted as her father, finally, was
allowed to step up on the riser. He introduced John and Joanna, as
if most of the guests had not known at least one of them since
childhood. He said all the right things about John’s character and
Joanna’s beauty. They stood together while he pronounced a blessing
and then everyone was invited to join in a toast to the happy
couple with the champagne the footmen passed around.

Christiana sipped and giggled. “It tickles my
nose.” And then she sipped again. “This is
sooo
much nicer
than brandy.”

The musicians began playing again and without
a word between them, Morgan and Christiana left the room. Leaving
their glasses at the entrance to the conservatory, they walked into
the dimly lit jungle of plants.

“We could be lost in here for a week.” Morgan
could see the path, though most of it was overgrown with some sort
of ground cover run amok. “They would have to send a rescue
party.”

“I think this is what Joanna meant when she
said the house had been too long without a woman’s touch.”

He pulled the branch of a gigantic rubber
plant to the side and they found a lovely iron bench near a
fountain whose pond was choked with water lilies. The large glass
windows were open and the rain added its music to the sound of the
fountain.

Christiana sat down. “Was it only yesterday I
was counting the days until I never saw you again?”

“Yes, less than twenty-four hours ago I could
see you, even talk to you, but the hope of ever kissing you again
was nothing more than a desperate wish.” He picked up her hand and
kissed it and did not let it go.

She put her head on his shoulder and sighed.
“Christiana, there are some things I want to tell you, to make
clear.”

She raised her head, looking doubtful. “Do I
want to hear them?”

“I most sincerely hope so.”

“Well, then...” she prompted.

“I have never lied to you. The only person I
ever lied to was myself.” He took her other hand and looked at her
with as direct a gaze as his heart would allow. “How could I not
see that you entranced me from the first, that mesmerizing dance at
Westbourne’s? I thought I agreed to our pretend courtship because
it suited my ends. What a fool I was. I agreed because it was the
only way to be near you.

“And every time you drew me closer I told
myself it was the logical progression of friendship.” He shook his
head, and looked away, words beyond him for a moment. “It was the
night of the masquerade that I realized the truth. Odd, what, for
the mask to come off at a masquerade?”

He turned to her again. “I am going to tell
you now what I realized then.” He did not speak right away. He
waited as though giving her a chance to stop him. “I love you.”

He leaned forward and touched her smile
gently with his lips. “I think I must have loved you from that
morning we met in the park. You were so embarrassed to be caught
riding that impossible nag.” He shook his head. “I fell in love
with you then and I will love you for as long as I live.”

He was finished. And she knew it was her
turn. Instead her eyes filled with tears. “The words fail me,
Morgan. I’m so sorry, but I am too afraid to say them.”

He nodded slowly but she could see his
disappointment.

“Everything about you is precious to me, my
lord. The way your hair shines in the candlelight, the way your
eyes crinkle when you are unsure. The way you pray to every pagan
god there is, and the way they come to your aid.” She stopped and
then laughed lightly. “How silly of me to be afraid of the words. I
love you, of course I do.”

It was her turn to lean closer and kiss him
lightly. Then her smile disappeared. “But I have so recently been
wrong. And that mistake led to more heartache than I ever want to
experience again. Not only my heartache, but yours as well. I know
it is too late to stop myself loving you, nor do I want to. My
world is a much happier place with you in it. Saying the words is
one thing, but accepting the future they imply...” Her voice
trailed off and her tears were an eloquent apology.

He stood up and held out his hand to her. She
took it, gripped with an unholy fear. Was he going to leave her?
“Morgan, what are you going to do?”

He drew her into his arms, his expression
filled with reproach. “I am going to wait until you are ready to
accept the future.” He touched a kiss to her temple and then to her
cheek. “But I am going to be an impatient lover, Christiana.” The
next kiss, full of ardor and longing, proved it. He trailed kisses
along her neck, pausing at her ear to whisper, “You must let me
know if I grow too demanding.”

With a sigh she gave herself up to the
feeling of his lips, his hands, until she thought she would drown
in the sensations and die happily. When the kiss ended, she wanted
to stand with her eyes closed and remember each blissful moment.
When she did open her eyes, she saw he was watching her with an
unsmiling intensity that was as arousing as his touch.

“My lord, do you think perhaps we should
return to the ballroom?”

“Oh yes, I certainly do. But dancing will
seem very tame after this interlude.”

They worked their way through the plants,
following the overgrown pathway. By the time they were in the hall,
Morgan had her laughing at his silly insistence that he had surely
saved them from some man-eating plant.