You Only Love Twice (17 page)

“Because,” she said, “they despaired of me ever mastering the steps of the dances. It wasn’t easy, you know, with only nuns and small boys as partners.”

“How did you ever persuade the boys?”

“Bribery,” she said. “A penny a dance. I owe them a shilling apiece. We ran into some trouble learning the waltz, though. The nuns were afraid it might be improper. In the end, Joseph won them over.”

“Joseph?” he said carefully. “How did he do that?”

“He danced the waltz with Sister Elvira. They were so comical, we couldn’t stop laughing. Our boys, of course, made fun of the whole thing. After that, no one could think of the waltz as anything but a huge joke.”

Lucas’s shoulders began to heave and he shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder whether Hawkshill is run by nuns or by inmates of an insane asylum.”

“That’s what we wonder, too. The nuns, I mean.”

When his smile faded, so did hers. He came away from the balustrade and held out his arms. “Let’s find out about the waltz, Jess. Let’s see if it’s a joke.”

When she’d refused to dance with him in her kitchen, she’d been embarrassed because he’d caught her at the worst possible moment. Tonight was different. She wasn’t wearing a filthy apron, and he hadn’t found her waltzing with a mop. The gown she was wearing was as lovely as any she’d seen tonight, except for Bella’s perhaps, and the partners she’d danced with were all eligible young gentlemen.

She stepped into his arms with a dazzling smile, confident that she wouldn’t disgrace herself. She’d practiced all the dances until she was step-perfect.

Her smile faded a little as his arm encircled her waist. He’d removed his gloves, and as his hand settled against the small of her back, she could feel his heat pass from his body into her own.

“Put your left hand on my shoulder,” he said softly and Jessica obeyed. “Now put your right hand in mine.”

She was wearing long white gloves, but they didn’t seem to offer any protection. His hand was charged with a special kind of energy. And the sight of that powerful masculine hand cradling her own fragile fingers did something peculiar to her insides.

“Now look at me, Jess,” he murmured.

She heard the huskiness in his voice, and her own throat tightened. She looked up at him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, sleepy, mesmerizing, and her own eyes began to close.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he said, and chuckling, he swung her into the waltz.

There was no music, but she didn’t need music. She moved instinctively. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be closely held in Lucas’s embrace, her body swaying intimately against his. She could feel the hard
muscles of his shoulders beneath her fingers, and his powerful legs brushing against her skirts as they moved to a beat only they could hear. Even their hearts seemed to beat as one. In the distance, someone laughed, but she cared nothing for that.

His lips brushed her ear. “That will do for now,” he said, and his arms slowly dropped away.

She opened her eyes and blinked up at his smiling face.

“Don’t look so crestfallen, Jess,” he said. “There will be another waltz after supper, and I’m claiming that waltz for myself.”

It took a moment before his words cleared the mist in her brain. “But Lucas,” she said, “I’ve promised that waltz to someone else.”

“You did
what
?” His brows were a black slash. “Then you’ll have to unpromise it.”

“I can’t do that. A promise is a promise.”

“Who is it? Perry, I suppose. He’s done this as a joke because I warned him off, I warned them all off. The first waltz I was obliged to give to our hostess. But the second waltz belongs to me.”

“Well,” she snapped, “it’s a pity you didn’t warn
me
. And it’s not Perry.”

“Then who the devil is it?”

“He’s one of Bella’s London friends.”

His name was Rodney Stone, and he’d been her first partner that evening. He was very elegant, far more elegant than Perry or any of the Chalford crowd, and she’d been flattered when he’d asked her to keep the second waltz for him.

“His name?” demanded Lucas

She looked at him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”

“Why do you think? So that I can tell him that you gave away my waltz by mistake.”

She gasped. “You can’t do that!”

“Just watch me!”

“It’s against the rules.”

“Whose rules?”

“The rules your mother and Anne Rankin have drummed into my head this last week.”

“I make up my own rules.”

“Lucas,” she said, trying to soften him with a smile, “I can’t break a promise, but—”

“For heaven’s sake, Jess, I’m not asking you to break a betrothal or a marriage vow. It’s only a waltz.”

“There are other dances I’d be more than happy to dance with you.”

“I don’t do country dances.”

“You don’t … but why ever not?”

“I’ve never bothered to learn the steps.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me to save you the waltz?”

“Because, you little shrew, I didn’t expect you to—”

He fell silent.

“You thought I’d be a wallflower,” she said tonelessly.

“I didn’t expect you to be so much in demand. That’s all I meant.”

She looked back toward the glass doors that gave onto the ballroom, and thoughts chased each other through her head. Aside from Mr. Stone, the only partners she’d had all evening were either Lucas’s friends or Perry’s. Now she could see that it was all Lucas’s doing. He was a good man, a kind man. He’d done it for her sake. But she would rather be ignored than pitied.

“Jess,” he said, and reached for her. “Don’t—”

Whatever Lucas was about to say was lost when someone called his name from the glass doors. It was Ellie. His hand dropped away and he smiled at his ward. “What is it, Ellie?”

As Ellie came up to them, Jessica blinked away the betraying moisture in her eyes. The girl’s smile was warm, but it was meant only for Lucas. Ellie never wasted her smiles and conversation on her. The thought that at
least she knew where she stood with this curiously hostile girl was comforting in an odd sort of way.

“It’s time to go in for supper,” said Ellie. She tossed her dark ringlets and darted Jessica a deeply suspicious look before turning back to Lucas with a brilliant smile. “You promised to take me in to supper.”

“And so I shall,” he said easily. “And Miss Hayward also.” Then more formally, “That is, if you are free to join us, Miss Hayward?”

He was doing it again, making sure she wasn’t a wallflower. She should be grateful, but all she felt was this hole where her heart should be.

“Jessica?”

She accepted by inclining her head. Ellie had already burst into speech in an attempt to draw Lucas’s attention to herself.

“We’ll talk later,” Lucas said in a soft aside, but this time she did not nod her head.

The ball was almost over when Lucas was joined by Bella on the gallery. “I thought I saw Adrian and Rupert with you,” she said.

“You did,” he replied without taking his eyes off the dance floor. He had a clear view of Jessica and the young man who had stolen his waltz. They were taking their places on the floor.

“Then where are they now?” asked Bella, temper blinking briefly in her eyes. She wasn’t used to being ignored.

“Mmm? Oh, they went to the billiard room, I believe.”

His eyes narrowed unpleasantly on the young man who was partnering Jessica. He was a fop! A beardless, baby-faced fop!

Between sips of champagne from the long-stemmed glass in her hand, Bella said, “Jessica has turned out to be … quite a pretty girl, don’t you think?”

His eyes moved to Jessica. “
Pretty
isn’t the word I would use,” he said.

Bella moved behind him and took up a position on the other side of the rail. It was, thought Lucas, a deliberate attempt to move his attention from Jessica to herself. He didn’t mind indulging her. For one thing, his eyes had been straying too frequently to Jessica all evening, and for another, he supposed he was being insufferably rude in ignoring Bella.

He gave her his full attention. Her dark hair was swept off her face and pinned back by a garland of tiny white rosebuds; the gown she was wearing might have been made of spun gold. He would have appreciated her beauty more if he didn’t know her so well.

Bella cocked her head to one side and looked up at him through the sweep of her lashes. “How would you describe her?” she asked archly.

He looked over the rail again. The orchestra had given the opening chord, and as the fop bowed, Jessica curtsied. It was a formal curtsy, far more formal than they were used to in Chalford. She might have been one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting. The thought made him smile.

“There is no one,” he said, “that I admire more.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, and this wasn’t something new, either. Even when she was a young girl, he’d admired Jess’s pluck. If she made up her mind to do something, she would do it. She’d made up her mind to attend Bella’s ball, and here she was.

There was another reason he admired her. She’d stuck to her guns. “A promise is a promise,” she’d said, and she’d meant it.

“I think that between us,” said Bella musingly, “we have managed to restore Jessica’s reputation. Of course, she still lacks some of the social graces, but that will come in time.”

He did not respond, because what he wanted to say could not be said to a friend’s wife. Bella was livid because
she’d hoped Jess would make a fool of herself. She hadn’t taken Sister Elvira into account. She hadn’t realized how wise Sister Elvira was, and that she would not dream of allowing her little chick to enter the world without being properly equipped.

If only Sister Elvira were four stones lighter and thirty years younger, he could easily fall in love with her.

“Why are you smiling?”

He erased the foolish grin. “I was thinking of Jess,” he said. And just to add salt to the wound, he added, “Tonight is quite a triumph for her.”

“A triumph? Really?” She laughed lightly. “Who are her friends? Who are her dancing partners? I’ll tell you who. They’re
your
friends, Lucas. If not for you, Jessica Hayward would be completely passed over tonight. I don’t think much has changed in the last three years. She’s still an awkward girl.”

“The trouble with you, Bella,” he said pleasantly, “is that you don’t recognize quality when you see it. The social graces can be learned. What Jess has cannot be learned. It cannot be bought or sold. It doesn’t matter whether she’s dressed to the nines or in sackcloth and ashes. She’s quality and that’s what people respond to.”

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass, but she had the sense to keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Lucas. He had too much influence in Chalford, too much influence with her husband.

Her eyes reproached him. “Naturally,” she said, “I will do everything I can to help Jessica. That’s all I meant, Lucas.”

He plucked an invisible speck of lint from his sleeve. “Naturally, Bella. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an important appointment in the billiard room.”

She stayed at the rail, sipping her wine through clenched teeth, trying to look unaffected in case anyone was watching.

CHAPTER
12

D
ances, thought Rosemary Wilde, should be exclusively for young people, and only young people. For people of her age, there were too many memories, there was too much nostalgia, too great an awareness of the passage of time. It seemed like only yesterday that she would have been dancing the night away, crestfallen if she missed a single dance. And now look at her! She was reduced to the role of a chaperon. Where had time gone?

She wasn’t unhappy, and she certainly wasn’t bitter. She was in a reflective mood, she decided. She’d spent the whole evening thinking about other people—Lucas, Jessica, Ellie—and just for these few minutes it felt good to concentrate on herself. If she didn’t, no one else would. She’d been deserted. Lucas, she knew, hated dancing and would be with his friends in the billiard room now that he’d done his duty; Ellie had gone off with a crowd of her friends to look at the roses in the conservatory, and Jessica was on the dance floor, waltzing with some young man. Even Anne had deserted her. She was with her husband.
They were a couple. And though they were kindness itself, and always tried to include her in whatever they were doing, she didn’t want to be tagging along all the time like a piece of extra baggage.

Her eye was caught by her reflection in one of the long pier glasses between two windows. No one was watching her so she sauntered over and took a good look at herself. If she didn’t, no one else would. Once a woman had passed the full bloom of youth, no one spared her a second glance.

A stray thought entered her head before she could suppress it. She wondered what Matt would think of her if he could see her now. Fifteen years was a long time. She shook her head and sighed. Matt was the real reason for all this introspection. Anne, without knowing what she was doing, had been keeping her informed. She’d casually mentioned to Anne that she’d caught sight of Sir Matthew leaving the circulating library on Waterside Street and Anne’s reply had stunned her.

“Oh, now that his year of mourning is over, I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of him,” said Anne. “Well, we all know that Olivia, poor thing, preferred London, but with her gone, there’s nothing to stop him from making Matchings his principal residence. After all, it is the most magnificent house in the county. I always thought it was a great shame that it was left empty for half the year.”

She’d also learned that Sir Matthew had gone to London on a business matter, but if he could make it back in time for Bella’s ball he would be here.

Silly old woman!
she silently chided her reflection in the mirror.
So much trouble with your appearance tonight, and for what? Matt isn’t here, and even if he were, you would be the last woman his eye would be drawn to. His mistress is half your age. You’re old, Rosemary Wilde. Better get used to the idea
.

Another reflection joined hers in the mirror and her heart stopped beating. Matt! He was no more than ten
feet away from her. And he had seen her. In fact, he was closing the distance between them.