The Beloved Scoundrel (20 page)

“But you still prefer workrooms to balls.”

“Not this ball. This is … different.”

Dorothy kissed her on the forehead and cleared her throat before proceeding to give her instructions. “You will not dance that shocking new waltz. Even at a country ball that would not be permitted without sanction. You must be all that’s shy and retiring. I’ll stay by your side all evening, but the way you look tonight even a formidable bear leader like myself may not be sufficient to lend you countenance.”

“Bear leader?”

“A spinster without a prayer,” Dorothy said ruefully. “Or so I’ve heard myself described.”

A surge of anger tore through Marianna. “If you’re a spinster, it’s because you choose to be. You’re fine
and beautiful, and you have a mind that half those men in the ballroom tonight would envy. They should not—”

“Hush.” Dorothy’s hand covered Marianna’s lips. “I’m not embittered. I accept that men do not find me attractive. It’s partially my own fault. I could have made a fine marriage. I have a respectable competence, and it would be considered a great coup for any man to be connected with the duke of Cambaron. I chose the path of strength, and gentlemen prefer women to be weak and accommodating. I could not bear it.” She took a vial of perfume and dabbed a few drops on the pulse in Marianna’s throat. “Roses. Isn’t the scent fitting for your flower dome?”

“Very fitting.”

“Now, smile, or I shall not let you go down and see their faces as they view your work.”

Marianna’s spirits rose as she thought of that wonderful prospect. She whirled toward the door. “I’ll meet you on the landing. I have to show Alex how fine I look.” She smiled over her shoulder. “He won’t believe it’s me!”

M
en and women in elegant apparel crowded the hall, and Marianna could hear the strains of music from the ballroom.

“Slowly,” Dorothy said as they started down the steps. “Let them see you.”

“I don’t want them to see me. I want them to see the windows.”

“And I want them to see you. You’re my handiwork and should be properly appreciated.”

Marianna caught sight of Jordan just inside the
open doors of the study across the hall. He was smiling down at Lady Carlisle. Now, she was as voluptuous as even Titian could have desired, Marianna thought with a familiar flicker of annoyance. The well-endowed Catherine Carlisle was only the latest in a seemingly endless parade of women in Jordan’s life. Marianna could not remember how many had succeeded the beautiful countess of Ralbon in Jordan’s bed.

Yes, she could. She could remember every one. There was that enchanting red-haired Carolyn Dumark and then Helen Jakbar and then Elizabeth Van—

Jordan closed the doors of the study.

“Stop frowning,” Dorothy admonished.

“Is that also forbidden by the
ton
?” But Dorothy was right. What did she care if Jordan chose to indulge his carnal appetites with that woman? This was a night for joy, and she would not allow anything or anyone to spoil it. “I don’t see Gregor.”

“He was going to supervise the lighting of the torches.”

“I should be doing that.”

“Not in that gown. Climbing around rooftops is definitely not acceptable behavior.”

Marianna frowned uneasily. “They’re looking at me.”

“They certainly are. Perhaps a bit too much.” Dorothy paused at the bottom of the steps before taking Marianna’s elbow and nudging her toward the ballroom. “Come along. You’re better off lost in the crush.” She searched the throng and finally made a selection. “There’s Sir Timothy Sheridan. You might find him companionable. He dabbles in poetry like
your father, and he’s certainly a safe partner for the dance. He’ll only want to write a poem about your eyes and hair.”

“What?” Marianna scarcely heard the words; her enraptured gaze was on the domed-glass ceiling in the center of the room. The circle of torches Gregor had lit outside around the dome made the flowers and vines blaze with color. Purple lilacs and ivory gardenias vied with the blazing orange-red of hibiscus. Dark green vines intertwined, separating and displaying the flowers. In each of the four corners peacocks with splendid turquoise and cobalt plumage pranced majestically among the blossoms.

“I did it,” she whispered. “I did well, didn’t I?”

“You did very well. It’s beautiful,” Dorothy said gently. “Now come and let me introduce you to Sir Timothy.”

Dazed, Marianna let her lead her across the room to a fair-haired young man in the corner. The flowers above them cast exotic shadows on the gleaming floor as the dancers moved gracefully in the steps of the cotillion. The sight was everything Marianna had hoped it would be.

She cast a glance over her shoulder at the closed door of the study. Not quite everything. It would do no harm for him to leave that woman and come and tell her that her dome was every bit as good as she knew it to be.

C
ome, Jordan!” Dorothy threw open the door and marched into the study. She stared intimidatingly at Catherine Carlisle, who hurriedly moved away from
the duke. “You will excuse him, I know. He has many demands on his time tonight.”

It was clear to Jordan that Catherine was not pleased but chose not to engage Dorothy. Instead, she concentrated her efforts on him. “Of course.” She smiled sweetly at Jordan. “You will return soon, Your Grace?”

Dorothy whisked Jordan away before he could answer.

“And what have I done now?” Jordan asked as he straightened his cravat. “As usual, it’s clear you’re displeased with me.”

“Besides behaving in your usual shocking fashion and staying half the evening alone in that study with that bovine creature, you’ve done nothing at all,” she hissed, a smile pasted on her face. “You may go back and continue your disgusting pursuit of that demimondaine … after you tell Marianna you like what she’s done.”

He didn’t look at her. “I don’t have to tell her. Everyone is singing paeans of praise.”

“Then tell her. She has a right to hear it from you. Why have you been avoiding her?”

“Don’t pick at me, Dorothy,” he said quietly. “It’s not safe tonight.”

“Fustian. I will not have tonight less than perfect for Marianna.”

“So I’m to add my praises to those of the mob. Very well, where is she?”

She nodded across the room. “With young Sheridan. He’s quite taken with her.”

He glanced at the corner she had indicated, but there were too many people blocking his vision. “He has a passion for infants?”

“Infant?” She looked at him in surprise. “That’s right, you’ve not seen her tonight, have you?”

He had been careful not to seek out Marianna. He didn’t want to look at her or talk to her. He had wanted to lose himself and forget her existence, but Dorothy had foiled that plan.

Don’t hurt her tonight.

He felt something twist inside him. Well, so much for Gregor’s injunction. He had made the attempt, but Fate appeared to be against him. He might as well get on with the business. He started across the room. “You want me to pay my respects?” he said roughly. “Then let’s get it over with. Though I don’t see why you think I—” His stride faltered as he caught sight of Marianna.

A promise fulfilled, beautifully, sensually fulfilled.

“Infant?” Dorothy murmured.

Christ, it was as if these last three years had never happened. He was back in the tower room, watching her, wanting her. Relief streamed through him as he felt himself harden, ready. Yes, this was the response he needed. Lust was savage, mindless, without pity. If he let it take control, then he could do anything he had to. Any tenderness and softness would be submerged.

As it
must
be submerged.

“Jordan,” Dorothy said warningly.

“Be quiet, Dorothy.” He smiled recklessly. “I’m only doing what you wanted me to do.”

“I didn’t think— You haven’t been—”

“You mean I’ve been as tame as Alex’s pony so long you thought I was ready to be turned out to pasture. Perhaps I’m weary of doing tricks.” His gaze went to young Sheridan. “But judging by the way
that presumptuous puppy is staring at Marianna, he might be willing to perform for her.” His mouth tightened. “I don’t believe I care for his manner toward my ward. Make an excuse and take him away.”

“I will do nothing of the sort.”

“You will.” He shot her a glittering glance. “Or I may decide to call him out.”

“You don’t mean it,” Dorothy said, horrified. “He would have no chance with you.”

“Then take him away.” The bastard was staring at her breasts as if he would like to free them, lift them in his palms, and then bring his mouth—Jordan could almost taste the softness, feel the peaking of nipples beneath his tongue. He could no longer identify Sheridan’s desire from his own. “Quickly,” he said, between his teeth.

“I won’t leave you alone with her. Do you want to ruin everything I’ve worked for?”

“We’re not alone. I believe you said there would be at least two hundred guests here tonight.”

Marianna had seen him. She stopped in midsentence and smiled tentatively at him.

My God, she was exquisite.

“Jordan, you brought me here to protect her,” Dorothy said desperately.

“And you’ve done very well, but it’s over now.”

“What’s happened?”

“Don’t meddle with something you don’t understand. Just accept that the situation has altered.”

“I would understand, if you explained. I have a true affection for the child and—”

“It appears she’s no longer a child.”

“Jordan, you’ve been very kind to her. I even thought— Blast you, why have you changed?”

He didn’t answer as he crossed the few yards. Then he took Marianna’s gloved hand and brought it to his lips. “A triumph, Marianna.”

The color flew to her cheeks. “You like it?”

“A triumph,” he repeated with perfect sincerity. “My ballroom will be the envy of every hostess in England. I couldn’t be more pleased or more impressed by your skill.” He nodded carelessly to Sheridan. “How do you do, Sheridan? I believe my cousin has a favor to ask of you. Something to do with arranging transport home for a few of the guests …” He trailed off and turned to Dorothy. “I’m sure Sir Timothy will be all that’s accommodating.”

Sheridan looked uncertainly at Dorothy. “Of course, I’m at your service, ma’am.”

Dorothy’s lips thinned. “
You’re
a true gentleman, sir.” She turned on her heel and stalked through the crowd with Sheridan scurrying after her.

Marianna said, “She’s angry with you. Why?”

“I’m not fulfilling expectations. Or perhaps I am. It’s all how one perceives the situation.” He held out his hand. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

She took an eager step forward and then shook her head. “It’s a waltz. Dorothy says I mustn’t dance the waltz.”

“It’s forbidden? Don’t you tire of doing what Dorothy and Gregor tell you to do?”

“No. Yes.” She stared at him, puzzled. “You’ve always wanted me to do what they tell me to do. You’re confusing me.”

“I’m merely asking you to dance.” He held out his
hand again. “Don’t you want to waltz beneath your splendid dome?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were bright, and her smile was suddenly as reckless as his own. “Oh, yes.” She put her hand in his. His hand cradled her waist, and he swung her out onto the floor.

S
he felt as if she were flying, swooping, held tight to the earth only by Jordan’s hand at her waist. Yes, this was right, this was what she had wanted. To let Jordan take her on this magical journey, to fly, to spin, to share. It made the evening perfect, complete. She tilted her head back and stared up at the glass above her.

Flaming torches.

Light against darkness.

Shimmering color and beauty swimming in dizzying circles.

“Stop it,” Jordan said.

“What?”

“I said, stop it. Look at me.”

She did so, and she experienced a tiny shock that jarred her from the euphoric spell. His green eyes were glittering, narrowed on her face. Recklessness. Sensuality. Mockery.

She had been so happy when she had seen him coming toward her that she had barely noticed his change in demeanor.

He smiled. “Looking at me may not be as satisfying, but I can’t tolerate being ignored for glass and paint. Have I mentioned that besides being atrociously spoiled, I also have a tendency to be intensely jealous?”

She shook her head. “That’s not so.”

His brows lifted. “No?”

“You’re not jealous at all. I’ve watched you with—” She stopped. She didn’t really want him to be aware of how closely she’d monitored his liaisons with those women. Then she realized she didn’t have to admit it. He had never made mention of it, but he had known.

“I’ve watched you too,” he said quietly.

She experienced a queer sense of nakedness, as if all the fragile barriers between them were tumbling down. She hurriedly looked back at the ceiling. “You don’t care enough about anything or anyone to be jealous.”

“Then why did I tell Dorothy to take young Sheridan away or I would put a hole in his handsome head?”

Her eyes swung back to him in shock. “You’re joking.”

“Dorothy didn’t think it was amusing. It came as a surprise to me too.” He swung her in a wide, swooping circle. “But what is between us has never been guided by ordinary rules, has it? Just when we become accustomed to one set, the game changes.”

She couldn’t seem to look away. “And has it changed?”

“Yes.” His gaze moved to the nakedness of her upper breasts. “Thank God. I was beginning to feel like a eunuch.”

She felt a sudden tingling and swelling as if his hands were stroking her. She swallowed. “Dorothy would say that remark was most indelicate.” She suddenly burst out, “And to my knowledge a eunuch does not require a harem such as yours.”

For an instant the mockery in his expression changed, and she thought he was going to smile. Then the hint of softness vanished. “I told you I’d seek consolation. If you’d been ready to take me three years ago, a harem wouldn’t have been necessary.” He smiled. “Come to me tonight, and I promise I’ll rid myself of any entanglements.”

She inhaled sharply as she felt the muscles of her stomach clench. “I
hate
this. Why are you being so— It’s this stupid gown, isn’t it? I wish I’d never worn it.”