Lady Rogue (20 page)

Before she could speak
, his mouth was upon hers, his firm lips parting her softer ones. The kiss was incredibly gentle at first, a touching of lips. Then his mouth fused with hers in a searing caress that left her trembling from head to toe at the delirious sensations that swept through her body.   Dawn's only experience with men before now had been wet kisses and groping hands in the dark.  Nothing had prepared her for the jolt of sweet fire that filled her at Garrick's kiss. Engulfed in a whirlpool of sensations, she somehow found herself reaching up to draw him closer, wanting to savor this tender assault. Shyly at first, then with increasing boldness, her tongue moved to meet the heated exploration of his.

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Her ears filled with a soundless rus
hing.  She was melting under his touch as her heart pounded, then seemed to stop beating entirely.  Dear God, she had never realized that kissing him would be anything like this.  Under his intoxicating exploration, she forgot everything. This was the moment she had dreamed about.

Garrick sensed her response and continued kissing her.  His lips parted hers, searching out the honey of her mouth.
The fragrance of violets engulfed his senses.  It seemed that his skin flamed where their skin touched.  His passion, his fierce hunger he felt shook him.  Though he was not a ladie's man in the full meaning of the term he had been with enough women to know that this was something very special.                           

Taking his lips from hers, he gazed longingly into her face.  "Dawn....
"

A warmth deep inside her flowered instinctively at the sound of his voice.  It was as if she had been only half al
ive, waiting for his kiss.  "Mmm?"

"I have a confession," he said softly.  "I brought you here tonight in hopes that you would grant me a kiss."  He untied the lacing of her bonnet and pulled it off.  Slowly, luxuriously, his hand
traced the curve of he cheek.

"And as you see, I have......"

Her hair was held atop her head by three pearl combs, but he pulled them loose.  Entwining his long fingers in the thick strands of her hair, he sent her dark brown tresses tumbling  down her back.

"Lovely hair.  I'd wondered at its length."  For just a moment he gave himself up to the hungry desire that swept through his body, then stiffened as he regained his self control.  "You are lovely.  I thought that from the first moment I saw you."  His mouth swept across he
r cheek to her hair.  Burying his face in that soft treasure, he whispered her name again.  Suddenly fireworks burst across the sky causing Dawn to jump.  "I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

She clung to him, remembering the feel of his lips touching hers.  "Its...its all right."  It was as if the heat of their embrace had sparked the explosion, a most dazzling, brillian
t exhibition.

The gardens were bathed in a bluish light
. The lanterns looked pale and very dreamlike. Fountains sprayed, reflecting the glittering light of the fireworks above.  For just a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the world,, but  dimly Dawn became aware of other pairs of lovers kissing and gazing up at the sky.  From far away she heard a girl’s laughter.

Garrick could not take his eyes from her.  He wat
ched with hungry intensity the way her smile played upon her lips, the way her green eyes widened with each spark that lit the night.  He was absolutely mesmerized.

The fireworks
ended with a final incandescence that trailed sparks of red, blue, yellow and green across the sky. His response to her nearness was almost as powerful, Garrick  thought.  The moment his lips touched hers, his body exploded with a surge of desire. Even so, there was so much more.  He felt a yearning to give, to share and yes to possess.  Her mouth was achingly soft against his and for one instant he had nearly lost his head completely.  The question was, what to do about it?             

He prided himself on being an honorable man, a sensible man and yet one kiss had unleashed feeli
ngs he had never thought  possible.  An all consuming tenderness tempered his passion now.  She was not some bawd to be tumbled on the grass.  He pulled away, surprised by the thoughts that pummeled his brain. It was a longing that intensified as the night progressed. Being with her made him happy. He wanted her. Not for an hour, a night, but forever.

Later that night after they had danced, kissed again, and strolled the garden until their feet ached, she nestled in his arms as the carriage jostled and jiggled. Dawn’s eyes were closed as she leaned her cheek against the muscles of his chest, and he watched her sleep. This lovely, enchanting young woman, touched by innocence yet passion too, was the living, breathing answer to his prayers. Was anything important compared to the exhilaration he felt just holding her? He wanted her, wanted to marry her. At that moment it seemed to be the only answer, and the only thing in all the world that truly mattered.

Chapter Twenty-Seven
             

Garrick lay in bed, staring up at the moonlight dancing on his ceiling.  Slowly his thoughts gained coherency as he sorted
out his emotions.  He was totally and unabashadly smitten with Margaret Pembrooke's ward. He was entertaining thoughts of marriage. Marriage!  The very word had once caused every muscle in his body to stiffen, his throat to go dry.  Now the thought of spending the rest of his life with Dawn Landon seemed to be an enthralling obsession.  A very pleasant one.

Every night since he'd first seen her he'd fantasized about holding her, warm and naked in his arms, giving vent to the hunger her nearness inspired. And so tonight he had kissed her, not realizing what a soul-stirring experience it would be.  The moment his lips had touched hers he had known.  Dawn Landon was the woman he had waited for, the woman he
wanted to take as his wife. 

She was a woman
with whom he could share his life, his soul, his heart without fear of betrayal.  Unlike some of the other women in his life she was not socially ambitious, looking to him to further her position in society.  In fact, she didn't really seem to care about such things.  She was clearly just a shy, beautiful, bequiling country girl.  Oh, how she drew his love. Not just that she was pretty.  No, it was something much more, as if his soul cried out to her.  He was happy just being near her. She'd give purpose to his very existence. Indeed, he’d be eager to come home just to find her waiting.

Putting his hands behind his head
, Garrick reflected on his life.  He was a man who seldom believed in dreams, who held few illusions, knew all too well mankind's faults and so guarded himself acordingly.   Success and security were all he'd thought of until now.  Now he wanted someone to share his good fortune with.  Someone he could open up his heart to, who would love him in return.

Clad in a thin pink negligee, her hair loose about her shoulders, Dawn sat huddled in a chair by the fire, her eyes fixed on the fading embers.  How long she sat staring into the hearth she didn't know. Minutes?  Hours? She was as still as stone
yet the world seemed to quake around her. Touching her fingers to her mouth, she remembered Garrick Seton's kiss and gently licked her lips as if to experience it again.  A sweet ache coiled in her stomach. His warm caress of mouth and tongue had ignited a host of sensations. Desire. Something she had never really felt until she'd met him.

Trembling
, she glanced toward her turned-down bed but her mind had been too active, too troubled to permit sleep.  Leaning her head back she tried to quench the flame in her blood that the memory of him evoked, but the thought of his hot soft exploring mouth and husky voice tormented her with yearning.  She imagined his strong arms holding her, caressing her, thoughts that sent tickling shivers up her spine. He'd held her so tenderly as if she were precious to him.

"No!"  She didn't want to feel this way.  She wouldn't.  The feelings that stirred inside her breast for Garrick Seton were certain to plunge
her into treacherous waters. 
You must never see him again
, she counseled herself, yet feared as soon as the whisper  escaped her mouth that she would be loath to keep such a promise. 

Seeking the safe haven of her bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin to bring warmth to her chilled body.  Again she tried hard to push all thoughts of Garrick Seton from her mind but she could not
. Her mind, her heart, the very core of her being longed for him.  Her body,  lying warm and yearning for the touch of his lips, rebelled against her common-sense.  Desire was all too primitive and powerful a feeling.

Tossing and turning on her feather mattress she could not keep her thoughts from  him, picturing every detail of the evening they had spent together. Immersed in a cocoon of blankets where everything was soft and safe, Dawn stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom. 
Beams of moonlight danced through the windows, casting figured shadows on the ceiling overhead. Two entwined silhouettes conjured up memories of the embraces they had shared. For several long, tormented hours, she lay awake trying to exert her will over her fevered, longing body, she closed her eyes. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she curled up in a ball, envisioning against the face of the man who haunted her now. At last she gave in to the blissfulness of sleep and dreams.

She was in a ballroom where dozens of crystal prisms glittered from the ceiling. Twirling and whirling  brightly clothed figures came within an arm's reach of her as they danced.   Faces sped by her.  She glimpsed her mother and father
, but though she tried to touch them they eluded her, fading away in a cloud of light.

"Dance, my dear."  Darting from shadow to shadow she s
ought the source of the voice.

"Mrs. Pembrooke!"

"Dance."  Margaret Pembrooke was on her feet, joining the others with a lilting laugh as she waltzed.

"I will dance.  I will....."  Moving her feet across the floor, Dawn tried to join in but the music was faster, louder.  Colors blended into each other until the features on the faces were indis
tinguishable from one another.

"Dance, Dawn!"  A chorus of voices cajoled
, she couldn't remember the steps.  It was as if she were on a treadmill, trying to join the others before they vanished, but falling short again and again. 

"One-two-three.  One-two-three.  W
altz.  Waltz.  It's so easy."

"I can't."  Waving her arms frantially, trying to keep her balance, she turned just as the floor dropped out from under her feet.  She was falling downward
into a great gapping hole.  "No....!"

Hands reached out to grasp her. "Dawn......"
  A voice whispering her name.

"Garrick?" She reached out to him  as he steadied her.  "Oh, Garrick!"  She sought the safe shelter of his arms
, but he turned away, moving through a cloud of translucent people. Running, she tried to catch up with him just as another figure beckoned.

"Shame, shame on yer Dawnie.  'Ow could yer e'en gi' 'im the time o' daiy after wot he d
one?"               

"Robbie!  Mists of fog enfolded her and she tried to push th
e clouds away. "Robbie......!"

"But there is su
ch magic when he touches me. "

"Because o' him I got me neck stretched I did.
The steps and the string
.   Aye, 'at's wot he brought me.  'E killed me, sister dear. "  Grabbing his neck, he stuck out his tongue in a gruesome mockery of a hanged man..  "And 'e'll do yer in as well."

Oh, Rob, please understand." She  tossed he head from side to side as vis
ions swirled through her mind.

"There she is!  Catch her.  She'd a thief too!"  Black John Dunn pointed his fingers
, leading a group of scowling men towards her.

"The runners!"  She had to find a place to hide.  "Garrick!"  He was up ahead of her beckoning her to come to him.  "Help me!" 

"She's a thief!"  A chorus of voices gave warning.  "Hang her!"

"Not now!  Please.  I
'm not......!  I'm not......"

"Hang her!"  

"I'm not!  Im' not a thief."  Bright daylight played across her face, teasing her eyelids awake.  Rubbing her sleep-filled eyes, Dawn propped herself shakily up on one elbow and looked around her. 
Dear God!  A dream.  Just a silly dream after all.  And yet.........

She remembered  bits and pieces of the dream and shivered. 
Robbie.
  how easily she had put him out of her mind.  She had been determined to wrest some information  about her brother from her aristocratic beau but the spell of the evening had wiped all thought of Robbie from her mind.   Was it any wonder than that he had intruded into her dreams to rebuke her?

She
could hear the thin tinkling of the watchman’s bell in the distance and the Charley’s loud voice calling out “All is well.” "For him perhaps but not for me," she whispered forlornly. She’d made a terrible mistake. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for this desperate longing to belong to Garrick Seton, to forget all else but the warmth of his arms. How could she have been so foolish as to be drawn up into the whirlpool of his masculine charm?
The architect and the sparrow
, she thought bitterly.

She sat up so quickly it made her head spin. How could she have done it? She had so cleverly prepared
her trap, but she was the one who had been ensnared just as Margaret Pembrooke had warned. She’d fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love and would have followed Garrick to the ends of the earth just to see him smile. She wanted to forget the past and begin anew. But it wasn’t possible. She knew that now with a frightening clarity. Sooner or later the truth of who she was and what she had been would be revealed. Would he then look so lovingly into her eyes? No! He’d feel cheated. All her dreams would tumble to earth like apples from an overturned fruit vendor’s cart.

She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t allow her heart to be broken. She was a survivor. She had no intention of taking such a chance.

At long last the first light of the sunrise painted the room with a rosy glow. Shivering she slipped on a robe. She could hear the members of the household stirring below. “I should go!” she should pack up her belongings and flee. And yet she could not leave. Not after Margaret Pembrooke had been so very kind to her. She was trapped between two worlds. She had lifted herself from the streets and alleyways of Soho to walk halls trod by satin-slippered feet. How could she be happy among the pickpokets now?

Her predicament played on her mind as she hurriedly dressed in
a russet colored dress and hurried down the stairs to join her benefactress at the breakfast table.  Margaret Pembrooke was just finishing her pork and kidney pie when Dawn made her entrance into the dining room.  She was thirty minutes late. Margaret frowned and gave a pointed look in the direction of the tall case clock which stood against the wall.

"Good morning."  Margaret Pembrooke picked at
the remains of her pie with a fork.  "I would assume by your tardiness that you had a pleasant time."

"The gardens were beautiful."  Nodding to Molly, Dawn turned over her cup.  "
A half cup of tea  and an omelet, please."  The girl hurried into the kitchen and returned with a fluffy yellow concoction.  The savory aroma of onions and peppers filled the air.

"And Garrick?  How was he?  Did you enjoy his company?  Do you wish to see him again?"  Margaret Pembrooke
suddenly had the  countenance of a smiling cupid.

"He was very polite.  I had a wonderful time.  But no.  I do not wish to see him again."  Dawn's tone was emphatic.  "We're ill-suited to one another for more
reasons than I had supposed."

Mrs. Pembrooke regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, her gray eyes sharpening their gaze.  "You're try
ing to convince yourself, but you can't fool me, my dear, nor can you fool yourself."

Silently Dawn took several small bites, averting her eyes.  "All right.  I'll tell you the truth.  I love him!"  There, it was said.  "But there can
never be anything between us."

"Your brother?"

"That and other things."  A frown etched two verticle lines between Dawn's well-shaped eyebrows.

"Your unfortunate past."  Margaret Pembrooke touched her mouth  with the corners of her napkin.  "You fear he will find out?  I can assure you that I would go to great lengths to make certain that he does not."  She had alre
ady instigated such a process.

"I know you would
, and for that I thank you but...you see, you were right when you warned me.  So much for vengeance."  Dawn forced herself to eat a bite of the omlette, washing it down with a gulp of tea.  She had lost her appetite.  Perhaps it had something to do with her decision.  "Your nephew has asked me repeatedly to let him call and I have decided to agree."

"I see, though I can not applaude your wisdom.  Trading Oliver for Garrick is a bit like trading a
stallion for a goose."  Nevertheless she smiled.  "But we will see what happens.  Indeed we will see.  It may very well increase the stakes in this game and make it far more interesting."

"It is not a game.  Not now."  Indeed she recognized with agonizing clarity that it was not.  She had let a tiger out of its cage and now she wasn't quite sure how to get it back in.  How was she going to stop caring about Ga
rrick Seton? Perhaps it was impossible.  But above and beyond all she had to try.