Silent Revenge (29 page)

Simon turned with her in his arms. They were close enough to the double French doors that led to the terrace that he could waltz her out into the cool night air. He led her to a quiet corner and stood with her beneath an orange-colored paper lantern. This is what he’d wanted to do all night.

The longer he’d looked at her this evening, the more he’d wanted to hold her. The more he’d wanted to press his mouth against hers and touch her in places he should not. The more he’d wanted to make love to her.

Before she had time to be shocked by his intentions, he pulled her close and lowered his mouth until their lips met. The fireball of passion that soared through his body was intense enough to pull a harsh moan from deep in his throat. He could not think of anything but holding and touching and taking her.

He tilted her head to the side and deepened his kiss. He pressed his lips to hers and drank from her sweetness. He ravaged the warm, moist cavern she opened to him, taking what she offered. He could not get enough of her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tightened his hold to keep her steady. He kissed her again, deeper, taking even more of her until neither of them could breathe. He wanted her so badly. He kissed her again, telling himself he had to stop.

Now.

With an agonizing moan, he lifted his head and pulled her up against him when her knees buckled beneath her.

She leaned her forehead against his chest, and he held her close to him while they gasped for air. For a long time, they both stood in the cool night air beneath the flickering orange lantern, waiting for their breathing orange lantern, waitingorange lantern, waitingto return to normal.

Finally, he tilted her chin upward and looked into her eyes, still glazed with passion. “I have wanted to do that, and more, all night. Ever since I saw you standing at the top of the staircase in your beautiful gown. Ever since I held you in my arms and danced that first waltz with you.”

“I know,” Jessica answered.

Simon heard the hoarseness in her voice. He traced her swollen lips with his index finger. “You do?”

“Yes. Lady Dewitt said so. She told Lady Andover she was surprised you had not taken me out into the garden long before now.”

Simon lifted his gaze to the twinkling stars above and laughed. “I’m not sure I like that you can read what everyone says,” he said when he lowered his head so Jessica could see what he was saying. “You may read something you will wish you had not seen or believe some gossip that is false, and I won’t be able to set you straight.”

Jessica stiffened in his arms. “You mean, you won’t be able to censor what I discover, my lord?”

“No. I would never censor what you can or cannot see, wife. I would only advise you to realize that not all you read on people’s lips is anything more than gossip.”

“Don’t you think I already know that, Simon? I have been watching what people have said for years, and it’s usually fairly easy to tell what is based on fact and what is simply a vicious rumor.”

“And what fact can you dispel as vicious rumor tonight?”

She looked at him in all seriousness and breathed a sigh as if debating whether or not to trust him with a vital bit of information. “I can dispel the rumor that Lord Cardwell is going to ask for the Duke of Dunford’s eldest daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“But of course he is, Jessica. The match has been understood for years, and I heard just tonight all that is left to finalize are the last few details before the engagement is announced.”

“No, Simon. The match was called off just this afternoon and no one knows it yet.”

“How do you know this?”

“I saw a conversation between Lord Dunford’s youngest daughter and another friend. She said her sister is so distraught she doubts she will ever be well enough to leave the house again.”

“But Cardwell needs that match. Everyone knows he’s desperate and needs the dowry that Dunford will provide. Why has he bolted?”

“I cannot say.”

“I think you can. Don’t leave me hanging now, wife.”

Jessica looked around, and when she was satisfied there was no one about who could hear them, she continued. “He’s in love with someone else.”

“Someone else? Who?”

“Lady Belmont. But he cannot reveal his feelings yet. She has been widowed less than a year. It’s too soon.”

“But she’s penniless.”

“It will cause quite a scandal, won’t it? The son of a penniless earl giving up a sizable fortune to marry a penniless widow, all in the name of love. You think it’s a mistake?”

Simon looked at her. “I think there are times when duty, obligation, and responsibility leave no room for love. There are times when we have no choice but to ignore what our hearts want us to do and let our heads rule our actions.”

“Is that what you did when you married me?”

Jessica’s question stopped him short. “No. I was not in love with anyone else when I married you.”

The look in her eyes told him she wanted to believe what he said, but the rumors she’d heard about Rosalind wouldn’t let her.

“My heart belongs to no one save myself, Jessica. I told you from the beginning it never would. My reasons for marrying you were never a secret, and I sacrificed no unrequited love to achieve what I needed. If you need a reason why I took you as my wife, you have three. Duty, obligation, and responsibility. Nothing more.” Simon paused. The spell had been broken. “We should go in now.”

He wanted to turn away from the hurt he saw on her face, but he didn’t. It was best if she never let herself entertain any romantic notions about their marriage.

“Yes. Perhaps we should go in,” she said, turning away. She took two steps and then stopped. “One more thing, Simon,” she said, turning back.

“And what is that?”

“The owner of Great Northern Shipping has arrived from India.”

The air left Simon’s lungs. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sydney Carver was here for a short time earlier and said he could not stay long because he had an important meeting he dare not miss.”

“Perhaps he has another meeting? Perhaps—”

“No. He said he had to go down to the Great Northern Shipping office, and he wished the bast—He wished the man he was going to meet would have stayed in India.”

A blast of icy dread chilled him to his bones. “Did he call him by name?”

“No.” There was a confused look on her face when she looked up at him. “I thought you knew his name?”

“I do. And it’s not important.”

That was a lie. His name was as important to Simon as it would be to his wife. Simon closed his eyes and blocked out the innocent expression he saw on her face.

He was not ready yet. He had not had enough time. Not enough time to prove to Jessica that she could trust him. Not enough time to convince her she would be safe with him.

Especially after she found out the reason he had married her was to destroy her stepbrother.

Chapter 18

S
imon felt the change in the crowd the moment he and Jessica stepped into the ballroom. Every breath of air seemed charged with the hint of impending excitement.

She was here. He felt it.

He’d waited three years for this night. He’d traveled thousands of miles and been haunted by scores of unanswered questions. Rosalind was not going to go unchallenged one more day.

The blood roared in his head. He would finally know what had happened the night of his father’s death. And when he forced the truth from her, the entire
ton
would be here to witness her confession. And he would be cleared of any connection with his father’s death.

Simon led Jessica through the room. With each step, his gaze scanned the throngs of gaping people.

“Is it too soon to go home, Simon?”

Simon looked down at Jessica. He could tell from the uneasy look on her face she felt the change, too. She worried her lower lip while the frown on her forehead deepened.

“In a little while, Jesse. It won’t be long now.”

He clasped his arm around her waist as one by one the couples stepped aside. Like the parting of the Red Sea, they opened to let them through, leaving a path down the center of the room.

Men in tailcoats and women in voluminous skirts fanned out as if petals falling from a rose to reveal the hidden center.

Simon wanted to jeer at the crowd. They anticipated the revealing of a priceless treasure. Of a love lost yet still alive and blooming. Little did they know that he could not put into words how he felt about Rosalind. There were not words vile enough.

The crowd parted to reveal the hidden treasure.

Rosalind, Lady Northcote, posed before them, her beauty as magnificent as he remembered, her regal bearing befitting royalty reigning over her subjects.

Her red satin gown shimmered with every move of her hourglass figure. Tiny streamers of glistening diamonds glittered in her mass of jet-black curls that hung down nearly to her waist.

He’d forgotten how stunning a picture she presented. He’d forgotten how absolutely beautiful she was. He’d forgotten everything except how much he detested her.

“Hello, Simon.” With brazen aplomb, Rosalind stepped toward them, flashing a smile so seductive only a blind person could miss it.

From the hesitation in Jessica’s step, Simon knew his wife had not.

The look in Rosalind’s eyes showed not a hint of trepidation. Not a glimmer of remorse. But blatant aggression.

The crowd of onlookers gathered closer around them. Circling them. Making them the central attraction.

This was what he wanted—to meet her face-to-face. He would explain everything to his wife later. After Rosalind admitted what happened the night his father died. When he finally knew of her involvement.

“Lady Northcote.” Simon acknowledged her with a bow, too slight to be considered polite.

His blood boiled when she turned her flirtatious wiles on him.

“What a pleasant surprise, my lord.”

“Is it?”

“Why of course. You can’t imagine how much I have missed you.”

Simon arched his eyebrows. The pouty protrusion of her lips sickened him. “I wasn’t sure you would actually come tonight.”

“Really? Why not?”

“We hardly parted on the best of circumstances. The night my father died was—”

She lifted a gloved hand. “Let’s not speak of such unpleasantness now.” Rosalind whipped open her fan and waved it in front of her face. In front of her mouth.

From the way Jessica stiffened beside him, he knew she could no longer see what was being said.

“You look wonderful, my lord. Even more handsome than when I last saw you.” Rosalind placed her black-gloved hand on his arm as if she had a right to touch him.

Simon had to force himself not to recoil. He didn’t have to look down to see Jessica’s reaction. He could feel her hand clench tighter around his arm.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I look wonderful, too?” she said, lowering her lashes seductively.

“My approval has never been important to you. I hardly think it’s warranted now.”

“Dear me,” she said, snapping her fan closed and slapping it against the palm of her hand. “A bit owlish tonight, aren’t we? Not at all how I would prefer you to be after all this time.” Rosalind skimmed her tongue slowly across her ruby-red lips, then puckered them in a seductive pout. “Would it be possible to speak with you in private, my lord? It’s so terribly crowded here.”

Simon smiled. “I hardly think so, my lady. I prefer an audience when I am with you.”

“Do you?” She laughed. “Then an audience you shall have. But I’m quite thirsty. I’m going to get a drink from the refreshment table. We can continue our conversation there.”

Simon was left with no choice but to follow Rosalind to the refreshment table in a remote alcove of the ballroom. They were no longer surrounded by a crowd of eavesdroppers, but only a few couples who were getting something to drink. None of them made a move to leave, but stayed to overhear whatever they could.

Rosalind took a glass of punch a servant handed her, then turned to face him. “Have you missed me, my lord?” she asked after she took her first small sip. “I have to admit that I have missed you.”

“No, Rosalind. I haven’t missed you at all.”

Simon stepped to the side, in hopes that Jessica would be able to see Rosalind’s mouth. But Rosalind moved further away. Realizing there was nothing he could do to gain his wife the advantage, he gave up and stood his ground.

“Have you been to your husband’s grave lately?” he said. “Placed even a flower there in remembrance?”

Rosalind shot him a harsh glare, her face a decidedly paler shade. “How unkind to bring up something so painful at such a festive occasion. You have no idea how devastated I was. It took me forever to recover from my loss.”

“More than a few hours? I can hardly believe such sentiment.” Simon straightened his shoulders. “Perhaps guilt made your recovery more difficult. Tell me, Lady Northcote. I have never quite understood what occurred that night. I have never been able to picture in my mind how my father’s accident could possibly have happened.”

The uncomfortable look on Rosalind’s face quickly faded. She banished her unease with a laugh. When it came to acting, she was a professional.