‘No, I feel fine,’ Linnet said with a practised smile, giving Louisa no indication of the turmoil inside her.
‘I’m relieved to hear it.’ She cast a disdainful eye over Linnet’s gown, a gown she had seen many times.
Fully aware of what her cousin was thinking, before she could make any comment, Linnet said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, Louisa, that this gown has seen the light of day many times, but I have nothing else suitable.’
‘I would be more than happy to let you have some of mine. I’m sure Mama wouldn’t mind if you—’
‘No—thank you, Louisa. Thank you for your kind offer,’ Linnet said in a low voice, ‘but I will make do with what I have—such as it may be.’ She had seen inside Louisa’s wardrobe. Never had she seen so many fine gowns. ‘I know you mean well, but I wouldn’t hear of it. Our income doesn’t reach to refurbishing my wardrobe at this present time—but I am sure things will improve.’
Louisa knew better than to make further comment and, clearly having no wish to offend Linnet, she changed the subject. ‘I asked Harry about Lord Blakely. It appears he wasn’t on Mama’s list of guests.’
‘Then how does he come to be here if he was not invited?’
‘Apparently he approached Harry’s father for an invitation—which is highly irregular. Although why he would want to attend a betrothal party when he is not acquainted with Mama is a mystery.’
‘I suppose it is rather unconventional.’
‘Mama doesn’t mind in the slightest since Harry’s father has a high opinion of Lord Blakely. Now I would like you to come down to the party with me at once. I wouldn’t want you to miss me having the first dance with Harry. Mama insists that everything must be done right.’ With happy laughter bubbling from her lips, Louisa took Linnet’s hand, who allowed her to shepherd her merrily down to the salon.
Louisa went to find Harry, leaving Linnet to mingle with the large complement of guests making their way to the large drawing room in which the furniture and carpets had been removed to allow for the dancing. Louisa was clad in a peach-satin gown embroidered with pink roses that beautifully flattered her creamy complexion. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining with excitement as she sought her betrothed, finding him surrounded by a crowd of young men, all in high spirits before the evening had even begun.
Linnet blinked against the bright lights of the chandeliers that hung down from the ornately plastered ceiling, bearing innumerable candles whose illumination was reflected in the gilt-framed mirrors on the surrounding walls. Lords and ladies gathered round, the ladies complimenting each other lavishly on their gowns and eager for the small orchestra to begin playing, so they would be whisked away to dance a quadrille or a country dance.
Linnet immediately looked for Toby, finding him standing alone on the side of the room. He was observing the proceedings and in particular Caroline Mortimer. On her arrival with her parents and one of her older sisters, Linnet had watched as a joyful Toby had stepped forward to greet her. She had given him a shy look from beneath her lashes, flushing prettily at the attention he was showering on her.
Linnet’s heart ached for her brother, wishing with her whole heart that things would work out for him and that he would eventually be granted his heart’s desire and be allowed to make Caroline his wife. With her fair hair and deep blue eyes, she was a very pretty, happy and lively young woman. She had perfect manners, excellent conversation and highly developed powers of social observation—her talents made her therefore uniquely positioned to become a gentleman’s wife—hopefully Toby’s—and mistress of Birch House. But unless Toby’s circumstances improved, then her father would never allow it.
In a brooding silence Linnet watched as a cool and serene Lady Milton, mother of the bride-to-be, presided over the occasion with her usual high level of competence. The music began and the newly betrothed couple stepped on to the dance floor. The room quietened for them for it was surely a match made in heaven. Harry held Louisa’s hand as though she was his most treasured possession which at that moment she was. And there was no denying the look of melting love in Louisa’s eyes when they settled upon Harry Radcliffe.
* * *
With a false smile pinned to her face, surrounded by the laughter and the warmth as the evening progressed, sipping her lemonade, Linnet didn’t move far from Toby’s side lest he wandered into the room that had been set aside for gaming. He had promised her he wouldn’t and, much as she would like to trust him, she knew he was easily swayed and might succumb to temptation. The event was turning out to be a huge success, with weaving lines of dancers twirling around the polished floor, yet a wave of loneliness washed through her.
Wistfully she glanced around, wondering where Lord Blakely could be and hoping he had left. Then she saw him—tall and perfectly built and as virile as a Greek god. Her stomach lurched and the ballroom spun around her in a blur of colour. From the starched perfection of his neckcloth to his white-silk stockings and black dress shoes, he was perfection. She observed his popularity as he mingled with the guests. His arrival among them had caused quite a stir—it wasn’t often that a man with so mysterious a background appeared among them.
He moved with the confident ease of a man well assured of his masculinity and his own worth. He conversed politely, seeming to give them his full attention. He threw back his head and laughed loud at something one of the gentlemen said to him, his even white teeth gleaming between his lips, causing everyone within close proximity to turn their heads in his direction, such was the effect this handsome, most popular bachelor had on others.
* * *
All the while the major part of Christian’s attention and his mesmerising eyes were flitting about the room, looking for someone. When they came to rest on Miss Osborne his whole sum and substance had become concentrated on her. She drifted into his vision like a butterfly, completely at odds with the young woman he had come upon playing a game with the other young ladies earlier. She moved with a fluency and elegance that drew the eye. Her back was straight, her head tilted proudly and her small breasts, thrust forward, showed beneath the modest bodice of her gown.
A slow, sardonic smile curved his lips when he caught her eye and he inclined his head ever so slightly.
* * *
To Linnet the movement was like an intimate caress. She felt a flush start somewhere behind her knees and creep up her body. To her relief he made no move to approach her, but he seemed to be making sure she was always within his sights. She watched him perambulate among the guests, carrying his pride, arrogance in his attitude, aware of his superiority. His eyes followed her every move like a predatory hawk, his smile that of a hunter.
* * *
As the evening wore on and she could no longer see him, Linnet assumed he must have left. Toby moved away to dance attention on Caroline. Linnet danced two dances, a quadrille with Harry and a lively country dance with her cousin William that left her quite breathless.
About to go in search of Toby, she turned as a tall figure materialised from the shadows and came to stand in front of her. The musicians were beginning to play a waltz.
‘Dance with me, Miss Osborne.’
His voice was deep and made Linnet think of thick honey. It seemed to caress each word he uttered. ‘That would not be appropriate,’ she said, having no wish to dance with him at all, especially not the waltz, a dance considered to be fast and daring and banned at Almack’s.
* * *
Lord Blakely laughed. ‘Why, what is this, Miss Osborne? Are you afraid to dance with me?’
‘Not at all.’
His eyes shot to hers as an absolutely ridiculous thought suddenly occurred to him. ‘You are familiar with the waltz? You do dance?’
With a sparkle in her eyes and a tilt to her head, the smile she gave him was sublime.
‘Like a fairy,’ she quipped.
He laughed. ‘Th
ank the Lord for that,’ he said, taking her gloved hand and leading her on to the dance floor before she could object.
Favouring the dance to become close to their partners, other couples crowded on to the floor. A huge sea of people seemed to press towards them and voices erupted as heads turned and fans fluttered and people craned their necks to observe the couple about to take to the floor.
* * *
Lord Blakely gathered her into his arms. Linnet wasn’t at all sure she could do it, but the challenge in his dark eyes made demurring unthinkable. Giddiness threatened to take hold of her.
‘Relax.’ Lord Blakely looked down at her. She almost missed her step, but his arm tightened, holding her steady. ‘Focus your eyes on me and follow my lead,’ he said, steering her into the first gliding steps as the graceful music washed over her.
Linnet’s feet followed where his led of their own volition, and her mind opened to the sensations of the dance. She was aware of the hardness of her companion’s thighs against hers and the subtle play of her skirts about her legs. The scent of his cologne was fleeting, a clean, masculine smell. The seductive notes of the music were mirrored in their movements and the sway was a sensual delight. Lord Blakely’s hand on her waist was firm, his touch confident as he whisked her smoothly about the floor.
After looking at them attentively, the couples on the dance floor renewed their interest in the music. Conversations were resumed and everyone got on with enjoying themselves.
* * *
When the dance ended, Lord Blakely put his hand under Linnet’s elbow and guided her off the dance floor. When he suggested they dance the next, an allemande, laughter bubbled to Linnet’s lips.
‘Oh, no—the allemande is a dance with too much twirling and exchanging of hands. Please—can we abandon that idea?’
Lord Blakely willingly agreed. They were close to the doors opening on to the terrace and, feeling the heat of the room exacerbated by the dance, it seemed perfectly natural to step outside. With her Aunt Lydia’s eyes fixed upon her from across the room, it was obvious Linnet was about to refuse until she caught the impassioned plea on his face and stepped outside.
A lazy somnolence had descended on the gardens and the perfume of roses was heavy and sweet.
Linnet inhaled deeply, gazing into the night. Conscious of Lord Blakely’s silence, she turned her head. He was half-perched on the balustrade, watching her. Gone was the open hostility he’d shown towards her so far. In its place was something different, warmer, almost appreciative.
‘Why do you stare at me?’ she asked, finding it virtually impossible to ignore the tug of his eyes.
‘Because, Miss Osborne, I have never met anyone quite like you.’
‘Are you always so forthright? You are smiling—as if you are on the verge of laughing at me.’
‘Not at you. For some unfathomable reason you surprise me at every turn—and if I am smiling it is because I happen to like you.’
‘Why on earth would you?’
* * *
Because, he thought, she was exquisite and put all the pale, simpering, overeager English roses who came out each Season in the shade. He smiled, his pleasant thoughts of her bringing a warmth and humour to his face. Her mouth was full and a luscious shade of deep pink. He noticed, too, she had an unbelievably small waist and a long, lovely neck. Her tawny-coloured eyes were quite extraordinarily wide with a slight upward slant that emphasised her high cheekbones. Her skin was creamy smooth and rich with a translucency that had him wondering whether it continued beneath the gown she wore. He speculated and the thought put a covetous gleam in his eyes.
‘Why shouldn’t I like you?’ he said, in answer to her question.
‘Because there have been times when I have behaved as no proper young lady should.’
‘I agree, but since you consented to dance with me then you are forgiven.’
‘That’s gracious of you to say so, but I really was quite horrid to you when we first met. I—also behaved in a most improper manner.’ Linnet glanced at him and smiled, shaking her shining head as the memory of how she had looked and behaved that night assailed her, and when she met his eyes she saw that he remembered it, too.
‘It will be imprinted on my mind for ever.’
‘I sincerely hope you will forget it. I was quite shameless—we both were,’ she murmured, licking her bottom lip, unwittingly unaware of how this simple gesture warmed Lord Blakely’s blood.
‘It wasn’t like that at all. We kissed—by mutual consent as I recall. Although I recall my mother had other ideas on one’s behaviour before marriage—both male and female. She was very strict and of the opinion that a young lady should live under the scrutiny of family members. Her acquaintances with the opposite sex should be selected and chaperoned, and if she is caught in any compromising situation her reputation would be ruined and she would in all probability see out the rest of her days in a convent.’
‘Goodness! I find that a bit extreme, but then—my mother died when I was quite young so I missed out on the advice.’
‘I’m sorry about that.’ He was silent for a moment and then he said, ‘I have a confession to make. I’m afraid I wasn’t honest with you. I should have told you the truth about the necklace.’
‘Oh?’
‘My father discovered it in Egypt. As you know it is extremely valuable. Thieves abounded in the camps. Lord Stourbridge was a friend of his. He was to return to England before him and my father asked him to bring it to England for safe keeping—which he did. I was merely taking it back.’
‘And you let me believe you were stealing it.’
‘No. You assumed.’
‘Like you assumed I was a thief.’
‘Are you telling me you weren’t there to steal it?’
Linnet was indignant. ‘No—although I cannot blame you for believing that was what I was doing. But I was there under duress. I told you I was there to put it back.’
‘Yes, you did. I didn’t know whether to believe you or not.’
‘I was telling the truth.’
‘Then if you were putting it back, someone must have stolen it in the first place.’
She nodded and turned away, struggling against the insidious feeling of shame which was steadily crushing her. Her immediate feeling was one of drowning—how could Toby have brought them to this?
* * *
Christian moved closer. Having made discreet enquiries into her family background, he knew the Osbornes were an old and distinguished family, but the extravagance of Toby Osborne and his weakness for the gaming tables had frittered away most of his inheritance, leaving his sister to live on a virtual pittance at Birch House.
‘Would you care to tell me who that person was? Would I be correct in thinking it was your brother? I passed him in the passage returning to the festivities. I’m beginning to realise he had been visiting Lord Sturbridge’s artefacts room. Lord Stourbridge is proud of his finds and it is unfortunate that he told all and sundry of the priceless beauty of the necklace, unwittingly making it a target for every thief in London.’
* * *
Linnet stared straight ahead of her, aware that Lord Blakely was standing directly behind her, almost touching her, so close that she could smell the tang of his cologne. How she would like to unburden herself, to tell him how she had begged Toby countless times to give up his reckless, expensive way of life, for if he did not heed the situation, then ruination would very soon be knocking on their door.
‘It was Toby,’ she confirmed quietly, turning to face him. ‘He—he realises that what he did was wrong and he has never done anything like that before—or will do again.’
* * *
Christian watched the tension and emotion play across her lovely, expressive face and tried to put her at her ease. ‘For your sake I hope he is sincere.’
‘What I don’t un
derstand is if the necklace really did belong to you, what was all that nonsense with the dice?’
He laughed. ‘I apologise. I couldn’t resist teasing you.’
‘Teasing? Is that what you call it? I was beside myself with worry. How could you take so much pleasure in my discomfort?’
‘Believe me, I didn’t. At least now the necklace is back where it belongs and will soon be on display in the British Museum.’
‘When you suggested a wager, you knew you would win, didn’t you?’
‘I did.’
‘Were the dice loaded?’
His look was one of mock mortification. ‘Of course not. It is not in my nature to cheat.’
Linnet gave him a dubious glance. ‘I suppose I shall have to believe you. You have recently returned from Egypt. You are much travelled, Lord Blakely—although you don’t strike me as being a gentleman of leisure.’
‘You’re right. I’m not. I like to be busy.’
* * *
‘And—I take it you don’t have a wife,’ she ventured to say, wanting to know all there was to know about this strange man who had seduced her on their first encounter.
‘No.’ One black-arched brow lifted in mild enquire. ‘Why? Would you like to marry me?’
His question spoken in jest and with a twinkle in his eyes caused Linnet to laugh out loud and brought a sparkle to her eyes, yet somewhere deep inside her she could feel the first stirrings of discomfort. ‘Of course not. What I mean is,’ she said when he shot her a thoroughly amused look, ‘is there a lady in your life—someone special?’
He met her eyes and the line of his mouth quirked in a half-smile. ‘You are very inquisitive, Miss Osborne.’
The Governess's Scandalous Marriage Page 7
