The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) (12 page)

On the far side of the room, Lord Nicholas
Wynstanton was trying to persuade Lord Sarre to join him in the card-room.

‘Not tonight, Nick.’

‘Why not?
 
God knows, the rest of ’em are all here somewhere, doing the pretty by
their wives.
 
Rock, Amberley, Jack – even
Harry and Philip.
 
And not one among ’em
I can tempt away.’

‘You’ve tried, then?’

‘Repeatedly,’ sighed Nicholas. ‘You’re my last
hope.’

‘I’m flattered.’

‘No you’re not.’

‘No,’ agreed Sarre equably. ‘I’m not. And for now,
I believe I am inclined to dance.
 
If
you’re so bored, you could do the same.’

‘And break the habit of a life-time?
 
I don’t think so.’
 
Nicholas scanned the room again and his eye
brightened. ‘Ah.
 
I spy Charles Fox.
 
He’s usually pretty amenable.’

He walked away, leaving the Earl free to resume
his thoughtful calculation of the risks involved with asking a certain lady to
stand up with him.
 
There were some, of
course … but hopefully none were insurmountable.
 
He waited until the optimum moment and then
strolled unhurriedly across the floor.

Caroline’s skin was faintly flushed with exertion
and her eyes sparkled.
 
She smiled up at
the tall gentleman offering her his hand, placed her fingers in his cool ones and
felt a sudden, inexplicable quiver of awareness. She said, ‘Forgive me, sir … but
I have the oddest feeling that I know you.
 
Do I?’

‘We have certainly met,’ agreed Sarre.
 
‘I will remind you, if you like.
 
Or perhaps you would like to guess.’

Had the rich-toned voice not been as cool as his
fingers and also slightly acerbic, the words might have hinted at flirtation.
 
As it was, Caroline wasn’t sure what to
think.

‘I’ll try – provided you won’t feel insulted if I
guess wrongly.’

‘I’m not easily offended, Mistress Maitland.
 
On the other hand, if three guesses are
insufficient, I may feel within my rights to demand a forfeit.’

Oh
,
thought Caroline.
 
That sounds rather daring.
 
A bit
too
daring, perhaps?

‘What sort of forfeit?’

Drawing her into the dance, he shook his head and
said, ‘I haven’t decided.
 
Yet. So you
see … the risk would be all yours.
 
It
depends on whether you’re brave enough to take it.’

Oh I’m brave
enough
.
 
But I don’t see why you should have it all your own way.

Tilting her chin, she eyed him consideringly and
said, ‘That doesn’t seem very fair.’

‘No.
 
It
doesn’t, does it?’
 
With easy grace, he
completed the first figure and, when he was facing her again, said softly, ‘Are
you accepting the challenge?’

Caroline the
Mouse would say no
, murmured a taunting little voice in her head.

‘Very well, sir,’ said Caroline the Reckless.
 
‘Why not?’

His expression remained completely enigmatic.
 

‘Your first guess, then.
 
Who am I?’

She looked at him, taking in the powdered hair and
the strong, clean lines of cheek and jaw, and trying to determine the colour of
his eyes behind the unusual silver-edged mask.
 
Her sense of familiarity increased.
 
There was something about that immaculate
posture … not stiff exactly, but somehow unyielding … that tugged at her
memory; and she’d definitely seen that firm, unsmiling mouth before. But when?

In desperation, she said, ‘Lord Philip Vernon?’

‘Alas – no.’

‘Oh.
 
Mr
Ingilby, then?’

He shook his head, reprovingly.

‘That was a poor shot.
 
Mr Ingilby is much younger than I – and some
three inches shorter.’

Damn.
 
Who on earth
was
he?

‘I think,’ she said firmly, ‘I’ll save my third
guess.’

‘You have until the end of this dance.’

‘Nothing was said about time limits.’

‘It was implicit.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re making up the rules to
suit yourself.’

‘Not so. After the dance, you will be able to cheat,
will you not?’

‘Yes. I was counting on that.’
 
She had hoped to look stern but something
about the conversation was sending exhilaration fizzing through her veins, so
she smiled and said daringly, ‘A gentleman would allow it.’

His lordship looked into the warm, dark eyes and
then at the inviting dimple beside her mouth.
 
He said, ‘I play to win, Mistress.’

Caroline swallowed hard, suddenly aware of a faint
but discernible aura of something that was both alarming and exciting. It was
more than the complete absence of expression in either face or voice; it wasn’t
even entirely caused by the slightly risqué style of his conversation.
 
It was something she couldn’t quite identify
but which suggested that, though toying with fire was surprisingly enjoyable,
losing the game might not be a very good idea.
 

The remainder of the dance passed in silence while
Caroline racked her brains and Sarre watched her doing it.
 
Finally, as the music approached its end and
she sank into a final curtsy, she sighed and said, ‘I don’t know.
 
I really don’t.’

‘No third guess?’

‘No. I give up.’

‘How disappointing.’ He led her to the edge of the
floor. ‘If you abandon the game, then so must I.’

‘No forfeit?’

‘I waive my right to it. For now.’
 
He paused.
 
‘However, if you want to discover my identity, you will have to find me
after the unmasking.’
 
And with a small
but very elegant bow, he strolled away.

Caroline watched him go, not sure whether she ought
to be intrigued or amused.
 

If she had been able to read Lord Sarre’s mind at
that precise moment, she would have known that what she
really
ought to be was worried.

Marcus Sheringham arrived later than was his usual
custom and then had to spend the best part of ten minutes trying to spot his
future bride.
 
In fact, his gaze passed
over her three times before he recognised her and, when he did, he felt
unreasonably annoyed. Normally, she stood out like a beacon in those garish
gowns of hers.
 
Tonight, she looked a
damned sight better than he’d ever seen her look before – which was good; but
she was also plainly enjoying herself more than a nearly-betrothed girl should in
the absence of her fiancé – which wasn’t.
 
He stalked over to her side, sent the young buck who was just about to
solicit her hand into retreat and said, ‘Caroline, my dear.
 
I feared I might never find you.’

Caroline rather wished he hadn’t but she
resolutely banished the Mouse and said brightly, ‘Is that why you are so
late?
 
What a shame.
 
But, of course, I had no idea you were
looking.’

This wasn’t the kind of reply Marcus either
expected or found acceptable.
 
Hiding his
annoyance, he said, ‘Would you care to dance?’

‘Not really, if you don’t mind.
 
I seem to have danced every set so far and
would be glad of a moment to catch my breath.
 
Perhaps you’d be good enough to procure me a glass of wine? I’m quite
parched and it’s extremely warm in here.’

He stared at her, not at all happy at being
virtually ordered to fetch her refreshments and even less pleased with her
tone.
 
But, since she had yet to accept
his proposal, he swallowed his resentment and bowed stiffly.

‘Certainly, if that is what you wish.’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled and made a vague gesture
with her fan.
 
‘I’ll wait by the windows
to the terrace where it is a little cooler.’

In the end, knowing that the refreshment salon was
horribly crowded and that his lordship would likely take some time, Caroline
wandered outside to the terrace itself.
 
It
was a wide, stone-balustraded strip running the width of the house and,
presumably because of the sharp November chill, it was deserted.
 
She drew a deep breath of clean air and gazed
up at the stars while she enjoyed a small sense of triumph at the way she had
handled Lord Sheringham.
 
He would return
wanting an answer, of course … but that didn’t mean he had to be given one.

‘
Bonsoir
,
Mademoiselle,’ said a light, charming voice from the shadows.
 

Caroline whirled round, searching for the voice’s
owner and finally finding him, half-hidden, by some leafy climbing plant.
 
She said breathlessly, ‘Monsieur Duvall?’

‘
Bien s
û
r
.
 
Who else?’

‘But how – how did you get in?
 
You shouldn’t be here.
 
It’s dangerous. If someone sees you --’

Abandoning his place of concealment, the
highwayman strolled towards her, loose-limbed and laughing.

‘How is it dangerous?
Ch
é
rie
, that room is filled with men dressed exactly
as I am dressed.’
 
He came to a halt no
more than two steps away and made a flamboyant, sweeping gesture with his black
domino.
 
‘No one will look at me.
 
Why would they?’

Some of the light from the open windows fell
across him, revealing dark brown hair and a bone-meltingly beautiful smile
below the plain black silk of his mask.
 
Caroline suddenly found it necessary to concentrate on breathing
normally.
 

He was a highwayman and a thief and that night on
the road she’d sent him away with impulsive angry words that were nevertheless
true.

They’ll hang
you, you know.
 
One day they will
.

But knowing what he was and where it was likely to
lead him hadn’t stopped her thinking of him – even dreaming of him.
 
She’d had to continually remind herself that,
despite his words to the contrary, she was never going to see him again; that,
even if she did, there was no point to it and never could be. Yet now here he
was … without any warning whatsoever and filling everything inside her with a
pleasure that was almost frightening in its intensity.

She stared at him, unaware that everything she
felt was in her eyes and said helplessly, ‘Why are you here?’

‘You need to ask,
mignonne
?
 
I came to see
you.’

‘But you can’t have known …’ She stopped,
uncertainly.

‘That you would be here?
 
I knew.’
 
He came a small step closer.
 
‘I
thought merely to look.
 
I did not dare
hope for a chance to address you – yet here you are.’ Another step.
 
‘And we have music.’

‘There is
always music.
 
One has only to listen
.’

His words from that night at the roadside echoed
so clearly in her mind she was unaware of murmuring them aloud until he closed
the final space between them to take her hands in his and raise them to his
lips.

‘You remembered.
 
Merci
.’

‘I remember all of it,’ said Caroline – and
immediately wished that she’d bitten her tongue out.
 
In an effort to banish the growing, dreamlike
magnetism, she said, ‘Lady Brassington’s pearls have been returned.
 
Except that she says they’re better than the
ones you took.’

‘
Vraiment?
’

She realised that he was moving, causing her to
sway and turn with him and re-creating his special magic with every easy
movement.

‘I don’t suppose you know anything about that?’

‘I?
 
But no.
How would I?’
 
He spread his hands in
expressive denial, taking hers with them. ‘I am a thief.’

Suddenly, she didn’t quite believe him.

‘Are you?’

His smile, this time, was different.
 
‘I’m many things.’
 

‘That is no answer.’
 
She tried to frown, tried not to think how
warm and strong his fingers felt around hers.
 
‘Tell me about the pearls.’

‘Alas, I cannot.
 
Perhaps her ladyship has a secret admirer.’
 
He shrugged.
 
‘It is a mystery.’

‘It certainly is.’
 
She knew she ought to pull her hands from his and move away but it
seemed too difficult so she said, ‘You must stop this.
 
Someone might see us.’

‘And what will they see?’ he teased.
 
‘A masked couple dancing innocently in the
moonlight.
 
That is all.
 
Are you not enjoying it?’

Yes.
 
God help me, I’m enjoying it far more than I
should
.

‘That isn’t the point.
 
I sent a gentleman for wine and he’ll be
looking for me.’

‘Ah.
 
Then
our time together is short and should not be wasted.’
 
A subtle shift, an unexpected spin and they
stood half-veiled by the creeper.
 
‘Tell
me you are pleased to see me.’