“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.
Come, 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.
She 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.”
“And I wish you’d worn it sooner. It clarifies the situation. But we both know the gown isn’t the cause. We would have come to this anyway.”
“I don’t know any such thing. I was happy here. I thought—” She was not certain what she had thought, but it certainly wasn’t that she would be thrown into this sudden turmoil of feeling. “I felt safe.”
An indefinable emotion flickered in his expression. “I never promised you safety. Not unless you gave me what I needed.”
She stiffened as she realized his last words held no sensuality, only a harsh determination that transported her back to that night by the campfire in Montavia.
Mother of God, what a fool she was. She had been so contented, she had blissfully ignored the faint stirrings of apprehension she had experienced this afternoon. She whispered, “The Jedalar. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think I can give you the Jedalar now.”
He glanced at the dome above them. “You’ve become an exceptional craftsman.”
Hurt twisted within her. “I told you I wouldn’t give it to you. Not ever.”
“I have to have it, Marianna. I’ve delayed as long as I can. I knew you had the skill to create the Jedalar over a year ago. I hoped I wouldn’t have to ask it of you.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she fought them back. “Did you think because you’ve cared for Alex and me all this time that I’d soften and give it to you? I owe you nothing. I’ve taken this dark place and given it back to you full of light and color.”
“Yes, you have.” He looked into her eyes and said roughly, “And I don’t want you soft. I want you strong. I want you to fight me and make me fight you. You have to fight me.”
“I will.” Her voice was unsteady. “Please, let me go. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“When the music ends. We have to talk.”
“Now!” She could bear no more. She broke away from him and hurried across the room. She heard the rustle of whispers among the dancers. She had probably ruined herself in their eyes. What did she care about them? All that mattered was that, to her profound relief, he wasn’t pursuing her.
She almost collided with Gregor as she ran through the doorway.
“Marianna.”
He looked so troubled, she tried to smile. “The torches were beautiful. Everything was beautiful, Gregor.”
“Give him the Jedalar,” he said in a low voice. “He does not want to hurt you, but he will. He will break you any way he can, and I cannot help you now. Give it to him.”
Her smile vanished as a wave of overwhelming desolation swept through her. She was alone. Gregor, whom she had thought her friend, had abandoned her.
She pushed past him and ran up the stairs.
Gregor turned and stood waiting as Jordan strode across the ballroom toward him.
“She’s gone upstairs?” Jordan asked as soon as he reached him.
Gregor nodded. “There’s no use following her. I am sure she won’t answer the door. You frightened her.”
He had frightened her, Jordan thought, but he had also hurt her, and that was much worse. “I want you to take Alex and leave the castle tonight, at once. Go to Southwick to the Seastorm and take it down the coast.”
“To what destination?”
“No destination. Just show the lad a fine time.”
“For how long?”
He shrugged. “A few days. Then bring him back to Cambaron.”
His gaze searched Jordan’s face, and then he stated, “But Marianna will not be here when we return.”
“No, I’m taking her to Dalwynd.”
Gregor smiled sadly. “No doubt to find a way to convince her to give you the Jedalar?”
Jordan looked at the stairs. “What do you want me to say? That I’m going to keep up this ridiculous farce? It’s gone on too long. Your dove is no longer a child, she’s a woman. Yes, I want the Jedalar. Yes, I want her in my bed. If I can find a way to get both at Dalwynd, I’ll do it. But I assure you, I most certainly will have her before you see her again.” He smiled fiercely. “And there’s nothing in heaven or hell you can do to stop me this time.”
“I know. At last, you have found an excuse to take what you want. It is very sad. There will be much pain for both of you.”
“Then so be it. Send word to me at Dalwynd if you hear anything from Janus.”
Gregor nodded gloomily and started up the stairs. “I will go and get the boy.”
Marianna closed the door of her room and tore off the long gloves with shaking hands. She removed the beaded gown and thrust it far back in the armoire. She never wanted to see that beautiful garment again. She quickly slipped on the loose gown she had discarded earlier in the evening, snatched up a shawl, and ran from the room. She tore up the long, winding staircase to the tower room.
She skidded to a stop just inside the door.
Jordan sat at her worktable, his legs stretched out before him. “We didn’t finish our conversation.” The candle on the table cast flickering shadows on the long planes of his face. “I thought you’d come here. I frightened you, and it’s the only place you feel safe, i
sn’t it?”
She turned and took a step toward the door.
“I’m taking you away tomorrow.”
She whirled back to face him. “No!”
“Not far. We’re going to my hunting lodge, Dalwynd, just ten miles to the south.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve inspired a good deal of affection among my people here. I prefer to have you in a place where you’re likely to be more amenable to persuasion.” He glanced around the tower room. “And where you don’t feel safe.”
“I won’t go with you. I’ve already decided to take Alex and go to Dorchester with Dorothy.”
He shook his head. “Alex has already started on a journey of his own.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Alex is in his bed asleep.”
“He was until Gregor woke him and told him of the great adventure he was taking him on.”
Alex! Panic tore through her. She jerked open the door and flew down to Alex’s room.
Gone!
She stared down at the rumpled covers of the bed, her stomach churning.
“He will be quite safe as long as you do as I wish,” Jordan said from behind her.
She crossed her arms over her chest to keep them from trembling. “Gregor would never hurt Alex. He’s only a child.”
“But he knows many of Kazan’s children will die unless we find a way of protecting them. When it comes to choosing who is to receive his protection, he will choose Kazan.”
Gregor’s words came back to her. I cannot help you. Give him the Jedalar.
“He won’t hurt Alex,” she said stubbornly.
“Perhaps not, but he won’t give your brother back to you either.” He met her gaze. “I promise you won’t see Alex again until I have the Jedalar. You’ll never know if he’s safe or not.”
She stared at him. His expression was absolutely relentless. “You’re a terrible man,” she whispered.
He smiled crookedly. “It’s entirely possible.” He turned to leave. “Be ready to leave at first light. I know you won’t want to distress Dorothy any more than necessary by needless farewells.”
The Beloved Scoundrel Page 16
