The Perfect Waltz (30 page)

“Not that I can remember. As I said, I admire an adherence to duty.” Her voice was cool, quite composed, but still, there was a faint tremble.

“Sebastian is another one who has sacrificed his entire life to duty.”

“Then we should suit, shouldn’t we?”

“I doubt it. Duty is a damned poor bedmate!”

She stiffened. “Must you be vulgar?”

“Yes, I’m a rake, remember? We’re vulgar fellows. And we believe duty is a poor substitute for love.”

“Duty endures. Love does not.”

“Maybe. I am not convinced of that. Rather unrakely of me, I know.” He shifted his grip on her hands, so that they were pressed against his chest. “And you have forgotten the glory of love. Ahh, the glory . . . Even if love does not endure, it is worth it, for just a few moments of glory,” he said softly.

“Indeed.” As an attempt to be arctic, it failed miserably. She sounded uncertain, almost wistful. She rallied, “Something so ephemeral would make a poor foundation for a lifetime endeavor.”

“You’ve never been in love, have you, Elinore?”

“Certainly not!”

He smiled at her tone. “No, love is not at all rational, and you only do Rational things, don’t you?”

“Of course!”

“For that matter, it is not particularly Rational for you to be in this cozy dark cupboard with me, is it?”

There was a small pause, then her voice quavered out of the darkness. “I believe you were wishing to test my mother’s theory about colors.”

“Do you?”

The silence thickened. Giles bent his head lower and murmured against her ear, “You know, of course, that I’ve never done a dutiful thing in my life.”

“You ought to be ashamed to admit such a thing.”

“And we’ve established that I have a . . . shall we say, a devilish reputation with the ladies.”

“Shall we say plain wicked and be done with it?” she said tartly.

He laughed softly. “Very well, wicked, though not, I hope, plain . . . So here we have an interesting combination; a lady who has never done a wicked thing in her life, and a gentlem—well, all right, a rake who has never done a dutiful thing in his.”

“You could still redeem yourself.”

“I could, couldn’t I? Redemption and duty are such interesting concepts. Their definition depends entirely on where one stands to begin with.” She moved restlessly, brushing her body inadvertently against his. She froze.

He said softly into the darkness, “So, Elinore, you think I ought to be more dutiful?”

“Y-yes, I do.”

“Then I think that it is my duty, as a friend, to prevent my good friend Sebastian Reyne from making a disastrous mistake.”

She said in a thready voice, “And that mistake would be?”

“Marrying you.”

She began in a stiff, hurt little voice, “I know I am not the usual sort of woman men want to marry, but—”

“There is no usual sort. I also think it’s my duty to teach you that there is more to life than being Rational.” He slid his hands down her arms and wrapped one arm around her waist. With the other he wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her against him.

She started struggling. “I’ve had enough of this! Let me out immediately! The experiment is over!”

“Oh, but my uncontrollable masculine passions have been aroused now,” he said. “See?” He drew her hand down to the front of his body. He felt her jump and freeze.

“Wh-what is that?”

“Hard evidence of uncontrollable masculine passion.” He let his words sink in and wondered whether she’d realized she hadn’t moved her hand away. It was pressed, ever so lightly, against his erection. Her fingers tentatively moved in exploration. Giles closed his eyes and tried not to groan, feeling the whisper-soft flutter of curious feminine fingers through the fabric of his trousers.

“Oh, it’s y—!” She bit off the word with a gasp.

He managed to say with a semblance of control, “Yes, it’s what you think it is. So what are you going to do about that, Elinore?”

Her hand flew up and came to hover back near his chest. “N-nothing! D-don’t you dare,” she quavered. “I warn you, I-I am armed!” He could feel her breath as she spoke.

“Yes, and dangerous. So use your hatpin,” said Giles. He waited a long moment, but no hatpin was forthcoming. Lady Elinore waited, breathless, vibrating with tension and expectation, like a small harp in the darkness. He lowered his mouth to hers.

 
“Love?” Sebastian halted his pacing at the question. “I don’t know if I love Miss Merridew or not.” He tossed the idea around in his mind a moment. “I’m not sure I have it in me to love anyone.”

“You think not?” Giles raised a skeptical brow. “You love your sisters.”

Sebastian stopped, thought for a moment, and then waved the suggestion aside. “That’s different. Family is different. They are children, and I owe them my protection and my care.”

“So why not pay someone to protect and care for them?” Giles shrugged. “It would solve all your problems.”

“It would not!” Sebastian snapped. “Besides, I need to see to their care and safety myself. They need to grow up knowing that someone cares for them—not because they are paid to, not because they are forced to, but because they want to, because they are family. They need to know how much they and their happiness matters.”

“And that you would die for them if necessary?” Giles asked softly.

Sebastian shrugged, uncomfortable with such statements. “Whatever is necessary for their safety and happiness.” And yes, even unto death.

“That, my dear fellow, is love.”

“That’s not what I feel for Miss Merridew then.” Although that wasn’t quite true. He did feel a powerful urge to protect her and care for her and make her happy. And he would die to protect her, too.

He also felt an equally powerful urge to take her to bed and make love to her until neither of them could move. Just the thought of it made him begin to harden with desire. “Oh, damn it all! I don’t know what to do, Giles. I’ve never felt this way before.”

Giles chuckled softly. “Welcome to the human race, my friend.”

Sebastian groaned. “It’s what she said the other day. ‘If duty and joy can be combined, why deny personal happiness when it is possible?’ I can’t get it out of my head. Because there’s no denying, she would be good for the girls.”

Giles waited, but he said nothing more, so Giles said it for him. “And she’d be good for you, Bas.”

He groaned and put his head in his hands. “I know. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life. But I’m as good as bound to Lady Elinore.”

Giles shrugged. He poured brandy into two glasses and said in a thoughtful voice, “You haven’t actually made Lady Elinore an offer, have you?”

Sebastian flung himself into a chair. “No, but having courted her so obviously, I’m honor bound to do so.” He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “You begged me to display a little finesse, some subtlety, to go more slowly! Why the hell didn’t you clout me over the head with a brick, knock some sense into me?”

His friend looked pained. “A brick, my dear Bas? I would never use anything so crude!”

Sebastian took no notice. “A woman like that—you said yourself she was at her last prayers. And now I’ve raised her hopes. Made a spectacle of her.”

Giles raised a brow. “In what way a spectacle?”

“I’m aware of the tales. Pushy cit of murky background pursuing aristocratic older lady heiress. But to give her her due, she never once looked down on me or treated me as her social inferior. I can’t in all conscience abandon her now to pursue an acknowledged society beauty like Miss Merridew. Lady Elinore would become the laughingstock of the ton.”

“That’s possible.” Giles passed him the glass of brandy.

“I wouldn’t wish that on any woman.” Sebastian took the glass mechanically. “Besides, I like Lady Elinore. She might be dull and bookish and drab, but her heart is in the right place. She really does care about those destitute girls.”

“She does indeed,” Giles agreed. “Bored me for hours about it the other evening.”

“What did happen after you escorted her home?” Sebastian asked curiously. “Thank you for that, by the way. My mind was elsewhere.” Ringing with Miss Merridew’s words and the possibilities they’d opened up.

“Hmm? Oh we discussed Rationality and her mother’s scientific theories.” He grinned. “A fascinating discussion it was, too.”

“The mother was a crank, if you ask me,”Sebastian said. “The daughter isn’t as bad, but—”

“She’s nothing like her mother!” Giles objected. “Lady Elinore has had much to bear and deserves a great deal more respect than most people accord her.”

Sebastian regarded him gloomily. “You’re right. I suppose my duty is clear.” He drained the glass in one fiery gulp. “I’ve never shirked a duty in my life.”

“No. Very uncomfortable I’ve found it, too.” Giles leaned over and refilled Sebastian’s glass. “Remind me, which duty are we talking about?”

“To marry her, of course!”

“Lady Elinore? You just said yourself you don’t love her. Is that fair to her? To either of you?”

“I told you, I know nothing of love. But if I married her, I swear I would be a good husband. I would treat her well and be faithful, at least, which is more than can be said of many men of the ton.”

“You didn’t love Thea, either,” Giles reasoned. “And though you were a good husband by your lights, and faithful, I had the strong impression that neither of you were happy.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That was different. I was young and foolish then, and I didn’t understand. I thought Thea wanted me, but . . .’Twas her father proposed the match, after all. It was about the future of the mill.” He shrugged. “Thea wanted more than I could give.”

He’d given Thea everything he knew how to give: his body, his loyalty, his care, and protection. He’d worked hard to build the business, to provide her with everything she wanted. It hadn’t been enough.

“Exactly. And when you married Thea you weren’t in love with someone else.” Giles swirled the brandy in his glass, held it up to the candle, and stared meditatively at the amber liquid. “Do you honestly think you and Lady Elinore could be happy in a marriage of convenience? That woman is crying out to be—er,
hrumph, cough
!”

Sebastian stared. “What did you say?”

Giles finished his sudden coughing fit, swilled down the last of his brandy, and explained. “She is crying out to be strangled! You have to admit, a woman who works so hard at repressing her femininity and her tender feelings is a woman who would be pretty damned difficult to live with. Believe me, Bastian, Lady Elinore will be no tame, undemanding wife. Your whole life will be Rationalized most horribly.” There was a short pause, then he added carelessly, “She seems a lonely little creature, too. Needy. Vulnerable. What if she, like Thea, demanded more of you than you could give?”

“Oh, God! I don’t think I could stand it again.” Sebastian groaned and sank his head into his hands.

Giles set down his glass and sat up. “Then that’s settled. You cannot marry Lady Elinore, and since you have promised nothing, you owe her nothing. But you are right; it would not be kind to drop her like a pile of old washing. Even if her clothes resemble one. You have raised her hopes. You must let her down gently. And I, your oldest friend and wise in the ways of women, shall help you.”

“You?” Sebastian said doubtfully.

“I,” affirmed Giles with assurance. “And we shall begin with the opera. You made an arrangement to take her, I believe. I shall accompany you, make a party of it—the virtue twins, Lady Elinore, you, and I. I should, of course, invite my friend Bertie Glossington to make up the numbers, but he’s a frivolous fellow, Bertie, and would no doubt offend the ladies by ogling the opera dancers.”

Sebastian knew a red herring when he saw one, and Bertie Glossington was undoubtedly a red herring.

“Why on earth would you want an opera party made up of myself and Lady Elinore and yourself and the Merridew twins? It sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. If I am to see less of Lady Elinore, then—”

“You cannot cry off an invitation you’ve already made, and besides, Lady Elinore loves opera, and you don’t want to disappoint her. No, you must go. And so must Miss Hope. Trust me, Bastion. It is all to do with strategy. We must bring the two ladies together more frequently, encourage them to become friends—females pal up with each other at any opportunity. Lord knows she could use a few hints from the Merridew sisters about fashion and graciousness to the opposite sex.” He snorted reflectively.

“So?” prompted Sebastian, jolting his friend out of his reverie.

“So we plan outings together, you and the little gray ghost, myself and Miss Merridew. And then, gradually, you shall be seen to transfer your attentions from one lady to the other.”

“Leaving Lady Elinore looking and feeling the fool?” said Sebastian bluntly. “I don’t like that at all.”

“Ah, but that’s because you have not perceived the brilliance of my cunning plan,” Giles informed him. “I shall, in the meantime, begin to pay more attention to Lady Elinore, thus distracting her from you.”

Sebastian snorted. “Oh, yes. She would consider herself vastly better off when two men come to drop her like a pile of old washing, instead of only one.”

“No,” Giles said in a patient tone. “With two such dashing blades as ourselves seeking out her company—” He eyed his friend critically and amended his statement. “Well, with one dashing blade and your good, plain, sturdy self seeking out her company, Lady Elinore will begin to acquire a certain cachet. Having attracted first you—immensely rich, if something of a bear—and then me—a known connoisseur of female charms—she is bound to garner the attention of the ton. Others will decide she must be more interesting than she at first seems and seek her out.”

“And if they don’t?”