This ball was not one of the things bringing joy. The guests were too curious to uphold a purely polite level of conversation. Already probing questions were being asked as if a macabre fascination for the details of his imprisonment and torture had Society in its grip. There were more questions regarding his health. Some recent gossip had put him near death’s door. Though only a week old, gossip surrounding his return was rampant and barely based in fact.
Vin was thankful that his brother’s tailor managed a set of eveningwear so quickly for him. A man needed not only his strength but also his armor when in the face of such a battle. Despite the rude inquiries from the guests, he would be expected to socialize, to at least act as if he were pleased with the ball so as not to disappoint Eve and Abby. So Vin stood through the indeterminable time in the receiving line. He shook hands, nodding politely to the guests and constantly scanned the room trying to keep Moira in his sight.
His eyes slid off to the side where she stood on Aylesbury’s arm chatting with some other guests. She looked so lovely tonight. Her gown was of pearlescent ivory silk with a ruched chiffon neckline that fell off her shoulders leaving them bared to any man’s gaze. Over the stiff pleated underskirt, more chiffon swathed the skirt hugging and encircling her hips. It was drawn up the side and decorated with silken leaves and flowers of rose, pink and a dark red that just matched the shade of her hair. There were more flowers in her hair and along the neckline just at the edge of her breasts drawing the eye. It seemed that every gown she wore called attention to those incredible globes and Vin wondered if every man stared as much as he.
Moira whispered to Aylesbury behind a matching fan, her eyes twinkling over the top. Vin thought spitefully that at least her hands and arms were covered with long gloves so the man couldn’t hold her bare flesh in his own. But as if knowing his thoughts, the marquis’ hand snaked up to run along her bared neck ever so briefly caressing her there. Vin followed those fingers through narrowed eyes before catching sight of the man’s mocking gaze. As if he knew what Vin was thinking.
Likely, he did.
Why had he argued when Moira asked him to escort her this evening? Even worse, why had he encouraged her to let Aylesbury do the honors? He could barely stand the sight of her on the fellow’s arm but he hadn’t wanted her on his own. He hadn’t wanted Moira to become more attached or risk the same for himself. Just two days into their affair and it was clear everything had changed between them if he couldn’t even offer a friendly escort for the evening.
Already he was distancing himself from her because of his undeniable need for her and weakness in acting on it. Her friendship was slipping away. Soon it would be gone and Vin felt there was little he could do to stop it. Moira hadn’t understood his concerns behind his intended departure, Richard hadn’t either. Instead they’d innocently tempted him into actions that were costing him a dear friend. He’d never forgive himself for that lapse of judgment.
How had he lost his head so completely? How could he have risked so much?
A hundred questions plagued his mind. None had an answer, but Vin knew, despite the difficulty in doing so, he had done the right thing in making his intentions – or rather lack of intentions – clear to Moira. He hadn’t liked that moment any better than she. He had felt her disappointment as keenly as if it were his own.
And perhaps it was his own. Vin considered Moira once more as she teased and flirted with Aylesbury. Whether his choice was for the best or not, Vin could feel the ripping pain in his chest as he felt her pull away from him.
“Lord Clarendon,” a voice called for his attention and Vin couldn’t help but wince. While he appreciated his new title, he hated the attention it rained him. Already he could see that calculating look in the eyes of the debutante’s mothers as they were introduced, that speculative gleam assessing his potential. Vin looked down to find a vaguely familiar petite blond bending in a curtsey before him.
“Vin, this is Lady Lovat,” Eve prompted him as she’d been doing all evening from her place at his side. Vin thanked God she was there for him to ease the way through awkward reintroductions and to keep the line moving smoothly along.
Hearing the name, he couldn’t help but looking curiously down at the woman. Ahh, he saw it now. Geena Campbell, now married to Benji Fraser, Moira had told him. Vin looked down at her now and wondered what he had ever seen in her. Though she was only in her mid-twenties, his old flirt had the look of a worn out courtesan as she smiled seductively up at him. Her flesh had gone soft and her eyes, though still a vibrant blue, seemed to be harder. “Lady Lovat, a pleasure,” he offered shortly, hoping to keep the exchange as brief as possible. He did not intend to renew old flames now.
“It’s so wonderful to have an old friend back from the dead!” she gushed. “I would love it if we might catch up. Perhaps you might spare a dance…for old time’s sake?” she asked boldly.
Vin grimaced inwardly. “I regret, Lady Lovat, I am already obligated for the dancing this evening.” That much was true at least. Thinking that dancing with a lady who was known to him would be better than being obliged to dance with any others, Vin went around before most of the guests arrived adding his name to dance cards belonging to Eve, Kitty, Abby, Fiona and Moira as well as Sean and Colin’s young wives, Coline and Ilona. The couple remaining would be spent catching his breath if needed. The sets would be long and strenuous, he was sure. While he was getting stronger every day, his endurance had yet to be tested. Vin could only hope his strength would hold out over the evening and he wouldn’t embarrass himself by collapsing like a vacuous dowager…or worse, by forgetting the steps.
The soft strains of the music began, sparing Vin the need to remain in the receiving line any longer. Fetching Fiona from her banter with Connor, Vin escorted his sister to the floor for a traditional two-step that would be the opening dance. Fiona was all smiles as he guided her through the steps and Vin was glad to see her having such a good time. It was still hard to believe that his baby sister would be eighteen in just a few weeks and was old enough to make her debut, to be courted and become a wife. He fairly cringed just thinking on it.
Soon he was cringing at the effort it took to maintain himself through the lively dance. With effort, he pushed himself to complete the long set, but he was never so grateful as when the music ended. Vin escorted the buoyant lass on his arm to the refreshment table where she was quickly surrounded by adoring admirers. Pushed back out of her circle, Vin watched with a scowl as the young bucks jockeyed for her attention and for the next dance. However, Fiona MacKintosh didn’t have ten brothers without repercussions for within moments Connor was at her side to deter the would-be suitors. Soon he was whisking her off for the next set.
Vin thought Connor a responsible sort to look after their sister so studiously. Though he was just twenty-two, he took the task of keeping Fiona out of the grasp of fortune hunters and rakes seriously. Personally, Vin didn’t think monopolizing her time would deter the most avid suitors for long. He frowned. He knew that Fiona had a dowry healthy enough to make her a prime target for the unsavory but wondered if the MacKintosh brothers weren’t doing their sister a disservice by being so overprotective. Men wanted the unobtainable. They wanted what they couldn’t have and the brothers of their clan were making damned sure no one could have her.
Jamie joined him at the table as he was watching Fiona and Connor go off to the next set. “Hard to believe she’s old enough for all of this, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is,” Vin answered, taking a glass of champagne from the table while he tried to catch his breath. “She was just a gangly lass when I last saw her. Mouthy, too.”
“Well, she still is that,” James grinned. “You should hear her and Connor go at each other sometimes. You’d swear you were in the middle of a Shakespearean comedy or some such. I think they take a great deal of pride in being able to outwit each other rather like Beatrice and Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing. It’s like a game of who can top the ot
her in words.”
“I hadn’t heard them together much yet,” Vin again thought of all he missed. “I’ll have to pay better attention next time.”
“It’s worthy of an audience to be sure. I don’t worry much over those other beaus of hers because of it. They bore her to death.” Jamie eyed Vin curiously and changed the subject. “You quite broke poor Bess’s heart last week.”
Vin just shot him a glare declaring the topic off-limits, but Jamie persisted. “If she wasn’t to your liking, my Mrs. Ross has a friend, Lady Reynolds, who might be good company for you. Her husband is old enough to be her grandfather and suffers from rampant gout. She’s a merry lass and lovely to boot if you’d like to give her a try.”
“No, thank you,” Vin ground out again feeling that horrid sense that his brothers were patronizing him. Richard and Jamie both. Who next? Tam? Dorian, even? He was the elder here, for Christ’s sake!
“How about…”
“Shut it, Jamie,” Vin bit out. “I don’t need a pimp. Let it go, yes? I’ve taken care of it already.”
Jamie’s brows shot up. “Really? Who? Must have been Lady Lovat, I’d wager. Saw her giving you the eye a bit earlier.”
“Jamie!” Vin turned seeing the humor dancing in his brother’s eyes as if he knew he was aggravating his brother, but rather enjoyed it. Vin felt his ire fizzle away and a brief chuckle burst out of him with a puff of air. “My God, but you’re an ass, brother.”
“I know,” Jamie smiled, clapping Vin on the back. “But you were taking this whole thing a might bit seriously. Loosen up, old man, this is supposed to be fun, you know?”
Vin’s lips twisted wryly. “Is it really? I feel like I’m a slab of meat being held up for inspection.”
“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “Now you know how I feel. That’s why I never come to these things. Wasn’t so bad before Haddington wed, most were after him for the title and, perhaps, the mamas will lay off me now that you’re here. You’re a much better catch than I, you know?”
“God help me.”
“God help any bachelor when the Season approaches.” Jamie surveyed the room. “‘Course Aylesbury would be getting the brunt of it were it not for his attachment with Moira. He’s viewed as a lost cause to most of the mamas. Too bad that, it would take the pressure off if he were available. You’ve been keeping company with Moira as late. Do you think they’ll wed soon?”
Vin watched Moira again laughing with Aylesbury on the other side of the dance floor. What could the fellow possibly say to keep her in stitches all the time? No one was that amusing all the time! Still, she seemed constantly amused in his presence. Comfortable with him. Content, even. As if they were already long married. They would have a good marriage just as Moira had told him, because she liked Aylesbury. They were friends.
But she didn’t love the marquis, Vin mentally argued. She admitted that already. She loved another. Vin felt his chest tighten. Either way, she would be lost to him soon. Who was he kidding? He refused to escort her tonight lest she develop expectations of him, but he’d forgotten he had nothing to fear on that front. In all likelihood, any attachment he imagined was just that. She didn’t need or probably even want more from him. Moira had an eager groom waiting for her in the wings.
She didn’t need more. It was only his arrogance which had assumed more. What a conceited fool he was!
She was simply lonely, Moira told him. As was he.
She wanted him. As he wanted her.
But as she said, she had other options. Why hadn’t she chosen Aylesbury as her lover?
Why him?
It was a question that had not mattered two days ago, but as Vin watched Aylesbury’s arm snake around her waist once again, suddenly it mattered very much. Why would Moira have chosen him to diminish her loneliness if that was all she wanted? Why not chose Aylesbury, the man who might one day be her husband, to do the honors? God, Vin hoped it hadn’t been pity that prompted her to surrender herself to him!
It was a lowering thought stripping away all pride, leaving Vin stripped bare, wondering if he could even distinguish reality from fantasy any longer.
He and Jamie were joined by Francis and Eve as well as Kitty and Jack. The sisters’ chatter flowed around him pleasantly, rather like the buzz of bees on a summer’s afternoon allowing Vin to push the uncomfortable thoughts away. He watched them interact with each other with interest.
Francis slipped an arm casually around Eve and she leaned into him. It seemed to Vin the past couple weeks that they were always like that, leaning toward the other as if magnets drew them unconsciously toward the other. Vin watched his brother looking down at his wife as if he couldn’t understand how he’d gotten so lucky. Curious, he observed Jack and Kitty as well. Jack was holding her hand, his thumb caressing the back of it absently. Kitty’s other hand caressed the bulge of her pregnant belly. Normally one wouldn’t find a woman so far along out in public but Kitty, with her bolder American sensibility, didn’t seem to care. Vin had seen Jack touch her stomach repeatedly as well, seen his joy in what was to come.
A painful ache clenched his chest and Vin knew it was envy. Despite all his uncertainties regarding marriage and its ugly tendency toward failure, these men, who once had some of the strongest reasons not to marry, were content in that state. It almost saddened him to think he would never have that same feeling.
“Are you having a good time, Vin?” Eve asked, turning from her sister.
Vin nodded his assent. "I am, thank you, Evelyn."
His lovely sister-in-law laughed. "You may call me Eve. Most everyone does."
"I know someone who doesn't," Jack teased her.
"Oh, you just be quiet!" her voice became cool when she addressed Haddington. "Don't think for just one moment that just because you are in my house that I like you in any way."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jack returned with a brash smile.
"Just so we have that settled."
"We do." Jack laughed as she nodded coolly. "Could I persuade you into a dance, countess?"
Evelyn sized him up through narrowed eyes before nodding curtly. "Very well. If my lord Glenrothes will let you."
“If she’s willing,” Francis shrugged though his eyes twinkled with merriment.
"There, you see? Shall we?" Jack held his arm out to her and after a moment of cool consideration, she took it and let him lead her to the dance floor.
Vin watched them go wondering at his warm-hearted sister-in-law’s cold reception of her sister’s own husband. "They don't like each other much, do they?"
Kitty chuckled merrily as she watched them go, "Oh, Jack likes her very well, but Evie doesn't have much tolerance for him!"
"Why ever not?"
"Because he tried to pursue her once and she did not take it very well,” Francis laughed but his eyes told another story. “You might not believe it but had things gone differently, my Eden might have been his wife instead of my own.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Vin replied.
“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard that story. I will have to tell it to you,” Francis told him.
“Why don’t you let me tell it while you dance with Mother, Francis? I know she would enjoy being rescued from those old biddies in the corner,” Kitty begged him prettily. “Besides, I believe this is my dance, is it not, Lord Clarendon? I am not feeling up to another romp but perhaps a stroll around the room while I share the story with you?” Kitty smiled up at him showing a charming dimple in her cheek.
“I should enjoy that, Lady Haddington,” he held his arm out gallantly. “Shall we?”
Chapter 32
One of the surprises of her unoccupied state was the discovery that time, when it is left to itself and no definite demands are made on it, cannot be trusted to move at any recognized pace.
Edith Wharton – The House of Mirth
The evening moved along slowly for Moira as she watched Vin dancing with Abby and then Eve with an unconsciously appreciative
eye. While occasionally he forgot a step – he’d been so long absent from Society who could blame him? – his movements were smooth and graceful. Thinking back on the one waltz she had shared with him years before, Moira could hardly wait to be held within his lead once more.
The night was dragging for her as she anticipated the moment.
Of course, he still didn’t look as though he were truly enjoying himself. Oh, his face was set into a pleasant enough expression, but she could see by the look in his eye that he found no joy in the dance. He talked with her friends but did not smile. Would he remain this solemn for the rest of his days, she wondered. Or would there come a time when he would or even could recover from the trauma of his imprisonment? Moira wished she could help him. While it made her feel good that he took joy in her, she wished she could find a way to bring the light back to his eyes, a genuine smile back to his lips in his day to day life.
“He’s been watching you all night,” Aylesbury whispered in her ear. “I think a jealous rage is imminent.”
“You weren’t here this morning, Harry. I fear you are doomed to failure,” Moira sighed.
“Then you will be mine instead.”
“Would you want me still, Harry?” she wondered. “I know your hopes for marriage runs higher than that.” Since they had all gone riding together the previous day, Moira had sensed Harry’s withdrawal though he continued to play the part of avid suitor. It was for the best, of course, Moira knew she could not wed him loving another as she did, much less after the loss of her virginity. While she savored the moments she had with Vin physically, she regretted losing her alternatives should Vin refuse to come up to snuff.
Should? Would! Moira’s mind argued with her. Already she could feel Vin pulling mentally away from her. He was spooked. There was no other way to describe it. Soon she would be left alone once more and without options.
A Question of Lust (Questions For A Highlander Book 3) Page 24
