“That wasn’t my idea. I was honored of course, but the squire felt that as Thomas and I get on so well, I would be in a position to give him a home. I am, in fact, a bit daunted by the fact that I shall soon be saddled with a ward.” He grinned, and Bess could not see that he was bothered by this. He looked pleased as could be.
“Well, this has ended quite well, though I hate to think those two awful people have gotten away with what they have done,” Bess concluded.
Everyone agreed to this, and after a few moments of everyone expressing their feelings on the subject the viscount said lightly, “Do you attend Jersey’s ball tonight, my lord?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” the earl said, looking at Bess.
The viscount gave him a calculating look and said, “Aye then, what say you now, Bess? Does it hold allure for you now, the Jersey’s ball?”
“Well, yes, now that Thomas is safe and sound,” Bess answered, a smile in her eyes as well as on her face.
The earl turned to Bess and said, “I must go now, as I have a few things to attend to, but do ye promise me a dance tonight, lass?”
“Aye,” she said with a lilt and a tease. “I dooo.”
“Och, lass,” was all he could manage under everyone’s interested gazes. He turned and started off, saying, “Tonight then.”
And he was gone.
Donna looked at her friend and said, “Well, well, well.”
~ Twenty ~
SALLY SONHURST ROLLED over on her bed and eyed her young maid, who stood hesitantly in the open doorway of her ladyship’s elegant bedroom. “What is it, Maggie?”
“Mr. Holland requested me to tell ye, m’lady, that he is wishful of a private word with ye,” Maggie said and bobbed a curtsey.
“Does he?” Sally sat up and thought a moment. “Very well then, send Mr. Holland up to me.”
If her maid disapproved, she did not show it by look or word as she nodded and said, “At once, my lady.”
“Leave my door open—he knows the way, so you needn’t show him up here.” She smiled wickedly. “Unless of course,
you
wish to join us.”
The maid, once again, did not display any expression as she turned and said simply, “Aye then, m’lady, oi’ll be leaving ye then.”
Sally Sonhurst laughed and sat up, pulling her gauzy nightdress low over her breasts so she was nearly exposed. As she waited for Holland she donned an appropriate pout. He had refused her when last they met. He had not wished to be embroiled in anything to do with the Earl of Dunkirk, who he said could be a dangerous enemy he did not wish to have.
Holland arrived at her doorway and said on a low, husky note, “Taking a nap before the ball?”
“Waiting for you, Bernard,” she answered with a welcoming smile. “Have you come to tell me you have changed your mind?”
“Indeed, I have most certainly changed my mind, and, my pretty, it will happen tonight, when your earl least expects it,” Holland said on a hard note and with a lift of his nose.
She sat bolt upright, exposing her breasts completely as she scurried across her bed towards him. He marched over and took them roughly in his hands as he said hoarsely, “Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“No, I have had the license ready because I was sure in the end you wouldn’t be able to refuse my offer. All I have to do is send round for that elbow crooker who calls himself a minister. I shall have him here, sober or no, but only tell me, what changed your mind? You said you didn’t want to make an enemy of the earl.”
“He
changed my mind. Let us say
he made an enemy of me
when he stuck his hands into my business.” All this while he had been fondling her breasts, but on this last statement, he bent and licked her nipples and then pushed her backwards firmly onto the mattress.
“First, how, how can you accomplish it tonight?” she said, holding her hand to his chest.
“Because before I came here, I visited with one of the little serving girls that will be working the ball tonight. I paid her well, very well, so she will make certain the earl gets just the right glass of champagne, and of course we shall both be there to make certain she does not forget.”
Sally giggled sharply and nervously. “Wonderful, and then what—will he pass out? What if one of his friends comes to his aid? How will you manage it? How will you get him out of the ballroom? How will you get him to your coach?”
“Money is always the answer, my dear, and you do not need to know the details. I have thought it all out and have each moment prepared. After he takes his libation, it will take him a few moments to feel dizzy. I have those moments planned out for him. You shall watch it all unfold, and then you will excuse yourself and be seen getting into a coach with him. After all, the two of you are eloping, are you not?”
“Oh, my darling, it sounds perfect, completely perfect, and your immediate reward is me—you can have me anyway you want, for as long as you want,” she murmured huskily.
“Beautiful little whore, you won’t be able to move when I am done with you,” he said on a vicious note.
“Oh, oh, darling, I love when you speak to me like that …”
* * *
Lady Jersey had the Prince Regent’s ear and heart long after they ceased to be lovers, and she still used both to her advantage.
Invitations to her balls were never refused, for many reasons. The Prince’s attentions had brought her to the fore as London’s leading hostess, and only illness kept a member of the
haute ton
from attending any of her affairs.
In addition to her status, she always decorated her home with an abundance of hothouse flowers, made certain the best wines and champagnes were served, and ensured the food at her buffet tables was the most delectable to be had in all of the city.
Musicians who were amongst London’s finest played sweet music, and she made sure no expense was spared to promote the elegance of her balls.
Her guests also knew that not only would they be wined and dined in style, but they were sure to get a glimpse of the Prince enjoying himself amongst his favorite cronies.
Bess was not impressed by any of these facts as she scanned the crowd, looking for just one person.
She had taken great care with her black locks, piling them high and allowing them to cascade saucily around her ears and back. She had chosen a gown of yellow satin that clung to her figure. The short, wispy sleeves were made of yellow organza and barely cover her shoulders. The heart-shaped bodice displayed to advantage the swells of her breasts, and earlier when she had looked herself over in her long mirror she had sighed and hoped the earl would find her alluring when he looked her way.
When he arrived and their gazes found each other, it was quite magical.
She was sure of him in that moment. As he spoke into her eyes with his own sincere blues, she knew he loved her. She simply knew it, and the emotion they shared at that moment exploded between them when their eyes met, locked, and drew them towards one another. They walked as though in a trance—as though no one stood in their way, as though no other being occupied space—and came to stand before each other as their souls whispered unspoken words of love.
* * *
Sally Sonhurst stood back and gasped as she watched their encounter.
She could not be mistaken, for she could see it with her own eyes. The earl was looking at this girl, this stranger, a slip of a child really, as though she were a lifeline!
Her earl, for she always thought of him as hers, was taken by a nobody of a girl! Indeed, the chit was lovely, but who was she? How had this happened? When had it happened?
Sally felt a deep-seated hatred form inside her chest for the girl the earl was staring at so lovingly. He had never, even in their early, heady days, looked at her like that!
She turned to Holland, and he nodded, obviously expressing that he had seen them.
Holland was right. Indeed, she couldn’t wait past this evening. She had to marry him at once, just as Holland had laid out. It had to be this evening. They could not make any mistakes, or all would be lost.
Dash it! It appeared as though he was about to take a plunge and offer for this girl. He had the look of a man in love.
Well, that was not going to happen after all the time and effort she had put into him. She would rather see him dead than have people say he threw her over for some unknown chit!
“Cut out entirely,” Holland said in her ear. “He will hate you in the morning.”
“It doesn’t matter. He can hate me all he wants—we will be man and wife, and she won’t want him after that.”
“You seem upset. It can’t be that you actually love him?” Holland asked, sounding surprised.
“No, and at this moment, I think I loathe him. He chose
her
, over me?” she muttered, incredulous.
Holland laughed and started to turn away. “We must not be seen together,” he said softly as he left her behind.
~ Twenty-One ~
BESS FELT SOMEONE touch her back and turned to find her father smiling fondly. “Oh, Papa …” she said breathlessly and found it difficult so difficult not to turn her gaze back to the earl.
Her father greeted the earl heartily and bent his elbow towards his daughter to lead her off, and she knew he was observing the proprieties. She was suddenly aware of a great many heads turned her way.
The earl stalled her father by saying, “My lord, I was going to wait till the morning, but I find I am unable to do so. Do you think you could spare me a few moments private conversation later this evening?”
The viscount smiled happily. “Indeed, I was wondering when you would get around to it.” He inclined his head and led his daughter away. When Bess bent her neck to look back at the earl, she saw that he was suddenly surrounded by a bevy of his friends.
She looked up at her father and asked, “What was that, Papa?”
“You shall find out soon enough, brat,” he answered and could not be moved to say more.
As Bess’s hand was taken for a country dance, she glanced around for the earl and saw him speaking with Lady Jersey. She sighed, wondering if he would ever make his way back to her.
A waltz was struck, a gloved finger on her shoulder made her look around, and there he was. He was a large man and took up a great amount of space, but to Bess he seemed to take up so much more with that glow, a glow that emanated all around him, and had from the first time she saw him. She gasped for air as he said, “I have permission from the Jersey to lead you out for the first waltz.”
She heard the music, just barely, as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. She didn’t feel the polished wood beneath her satin slippers, for she thought she was floating just above, held up by his strong hand on her waist and the hand he had taken to his chest. It was outrageous, the way he held her, and surely the gossipmongers would be ready to dissect them, but she didn’t care. She was in heaven.
“Ye are stunning, lass, stunning.” His voice was lined with a deep growl of desire.
“You are as well,” she answered. “I love you in black velvet, and your cravat with the black embroidery … so stylish, so masculine.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Ye are m’treasure, Bess, m’love—mine, do ye hear—mine. I have seen the puppies hovering around ye, and it is all I can do not to take them by their collars and throw them into the garden.”
It was her turn to laugh, and the sound was full of joy. He loved her. All it needed was for him to say so.
“Holland is here. I could not believe it when I first clapped eyes on him, but at least he has kept his distance,” Bess said, as this had troubled her.
“I know. I met him for a brief moment after I arrived, and he asked if he could have a private word with me. I doona wish to give him anything, but I am curious about what he wants.”
“Oh, don’t meet with him, don’t,” Bess said anxiously. “I can’t explain it, my lord, but I have a bad very bad feeling about it.”
“My lord?” he whispered near her ear. “I seem to recall ye saying m’name, calling out my name, many times. Ye haven’t forgotten already, have ye?”
She felt the heat rush through her body and pool in her cheeks. “I shall never forget,” she said simply.
“Good, but just the same, I mean to remind ye over and over again.” His voice was husky and full of meaning.
* * *
The waltz came to an end, and he had no choice but to lead her back to her group of friends. Champagne was being served, and after he handed a glass to Bess he turned to find one placed in his gloved hand by a petite maid who seemed to be interested in his shoes. Amused by this, he turned, toasted Bess, and sipped his champagne.
He wrinkled his nose and thought Jersey had never before served such inferior wine; he finished it with a grimace.
A moment later, he was surprised to find Holland at his elbow saying, “My lord, if we could have that little talk now. There is something you don’t know about Mary … and I don’t wish to be associated with it …”