by Jina Bacarr
Ava couldn’t forget the woman’s shadow hung over her.
‘I can never forget I was once like that shop girl,’ she said, taking Trey’s arm as the maître d’ showed them to their table in the Palm Room. A bubbling fountain and flowering green palms made her believe she was in an enchanted garden, while overhead a high glazed dome of tinted glass gave the room a feeling of dining with the open sky above them.
‘All that’s changed, Ava,’ Buck said. ‘As the Countess of Marbury, this will be your life.’ He indicated the stares in her direction from the excited hotel visitors chattering behind the plush velvet rope strung across the restaurant entrance to control who was allowed into the exclusive dining room.
Did his lordship sound wistful? Or was it her imagination?
Sinking gracefully down into the elegant chair as Buck had taught her, Ava was conscious of what he didn’t say. Did he still care for her? Would she ever know?
All her attempts to tease him earlier had gone nowhere. When he’d returned late this afternoon and told her their lessons were finished, she’d been relieved. Then she’d nearly dropped her drawers when Buck had announced they were dining tonight at the Waldorf so New York could give their approval.
The evening accelerated, and with it, Ava’s reputation as the beautiful and outspoken Countess of Marbury grew.
Buck was delighted when notable hotel guests and dignitaries stopped by their table, asking for an introduction to the beautiful countess. Others watched the goings-on from surrounding tables, gossiping, with their curious glances straying across the room as they peeked over the tops of their wineglasses, all whispers and smiles.
The exclusive restaurant catered to the opera crowd this time of night and full evening dress was mandatory – top hat, white tie and tails for gentlemen and gowns for ladies.
A crowd also gathered outside the Palm Room on the Fifth Avenue sidewalk, pulling up their collars to keep out the late-night drizzle as they pressed their noses against the plate glass windows to catch a glimpse of her.
By the time the waiter brought them coffee and cognac after an outstanding meal which included Smith Island oysters, breast of turkey stuffed with deviled sauce and mousse with blue raspberries, Buck was congratulating himself on a job well done.
He should have known his luck wouldn’t last.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to the countess, Buck?’
A plume of elegant gray smoke with a familiar scent riding up his nostrils made him turn around.
Buck nearly choked on his cognac.
Lady Irene Pennington stood behind him like the Queen of Hearts, posing under the lights with her amber cigarette holder in her gloved hand.
And looking at Ava as if she intended to lop her head off.
37
‘You’re not what I expected, Countess,’ Lady Irene Pennington said, blowing cigarette smoke in her direction. It curled under Ava’s nose, making her cough.
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ Ava said, her eyes moving over her ladyship’s face. The blonde’s finely arched brows and full red lips twisted into a jealous knot.
‘Yes. From what Buck said,’ Irene continued, puffing on her cigarette, ‘I assumed you were the plain, quiet type.’
‘Really? From what I read about you in the New York Herald,’ Ava said, seizing her advantage by inflicting a taunting bite, ‘you’re exactly what I expected.’
‘Oh?’ Irene said, taking up the unspoken challenge. ‘And what is that?’
‘A woman who will do anything to get what she wants.’ Ava shifted her gaze to Buck pulling on his high collar. He looked as out of place as a fox in a hen house when the feathers were flying.
‘How do you know what I want?’ asked Irene, refusing to look at his lordship.
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’ Ava asked. ‘You couldn’t wait to set sail on the next ship to stake your claim, even if it meant not mourning your late husband.’
Ava knew an aristocrat like Lady Irene Pennington should be veiled and wearing a high-neck black sateen dress with nothing more than a dull polished brooch out of respect for the recently departed Lord Pennington – not flaunting her splendid figure in a tight royal blue charmeuse gown. Her full-length satin sleeves were overlaid with black shadow lace and her low-cut bodice was embroidered with steel beads and gold threads. Over her shoulders she wore a black velvet wrap with the neck and sleeves trimmed with chinchilla fur.
Obviously her ladyship thought nothing of slinking along the edges of society, Ava thought, without regard to what she considered outdated rules.
Especially when it came to Captain Lord Buck Blackthorn.
Buck tried to keep the two women apart, but when Ava had her Irish dander up, there was no stopping her. She raised her chin and smiled in triumph. Never in her wildest imaginings did she think she’d ever have the opportunity to challenge an aristocratic lady as an equal.
It was a fight she wouldn’t have missed for the world.
‘I imagine you’re used to breaking the rules, Lady Pennington,’ Ava said, her curiosity daring her to keep going. She refused to melt like a rose candle under this woman’s scrutiny. ‘Or am I being too harsh?’
‘Rules are made to be broken, my dear Countess. Which is why I crashed your little party. I couldn’t wait to be introduced to you after what I heard from the bellboy.’
‘I doubt if anything would shock you.’
‘Perhaps, but speaking to a shop girl in a public hallway? A girl no better than a servant?’ Irene said, crushing her cigarette into the crystal ashtray, then replacing it with a fresh one from her diamond silver case. ‘How déclassé, dear Countess, even in America.’
‘No more than a lady smoking in public,’ Ava tossed back at her.
‘Why, I wouldn’t take that from anyone—’
‘Except a countess?’ Ava said without missing a beat. Neither guilt nor remorse trickled through her veins. The woman deserved to be put into her place. With each verbal attack, she was determined not to fall into her ladyship’s well-laid trap.
‘You must be tired from your voyage, Irene,’ Buck interrupted, his patience coming to an end. ‘Why don’t I call on you in the morning when you’re rested?’
Ava gave him a kick under the table, but he caught her ankle and squeezed it. The cad. He was ruining her game just when she was getting started.
Her ladyship had no idea what was going on and continued her attack on Ava.
‘And leave the countess alone with two handsome gentlemen to entertain?’ Irene said, eyes wide. ‘I should say not, Buck – although I heard a rumor the countess is soon to become engaged to one of the wealthiest men in New York.’
She fluttered her darkened lashes at Trey, who responded as Ava knew he would. He leaned over to admire her décolletage, then offered to light her cigarette.
‘You’re overdoing it, Irene,’ Buck warned her, though Ava didn’t know if he was jealous or protecting her. How strange.
‘Hold on, old boy,’ Trey said, amused. ‘Her ladyship is also my guest. A very beautiful guest.’
Irene smiled and blew smoke away from him. ‘You have quite a charming fiancé, Countess. Too bad I didn’t find him first.’
‘That never stopped you before, Lady Pennington,’ Ava said glibly. ‘Why would it now?’
Where all that blarney came from, she’d never know, but she just couldn’t sit there and let that woman think she was as simple as a country squirrel gathering nuts.
‘You’re treading on dangerous territory, Countess,’ Irene said, directing her stare at Ava.
‘No more than you,’ Ava said, getting in the last word.
The Irish girl shivered from the chill in the air. Her ladyship’s cool attitude slithered over her skin, the sharp, spicy odor of her perfume creating an intoxicating atmosphere that said she wasn’t backing down.
She’d make a play for Trey if she could.
Ava smiled. Let her. All in all, she had done amazingly well holdin
g her own as the Countess of Marbury, but she felt oddly depressed when Lady Pennington feigned a headache and asked Buck to escort her to her suite.
She sighed deeply. She may have won the battle, but she’d lost the man she loved.
‘You acted insufferably tonight, Irene.’
‘Don’t be so bourgeois, Buck. I was merely amusing myself.’
‘That’s no excuse,’ he said, irritated with her behavior.
He tossed his black silk top hat onto the Louis XV bronze armchair. The suite was luxurious to a fault, with ivory silk damask walls, thick Turkish carpeting and furniture covered in cut red velvet. Overhead a glass-beaded French chandelier cast a flattering light on her ladyship, but it didn’t hide her scowl.
She didn’t like being challenged by another woman. He had to admit, Ava held her own with the blonde beauty. He had the feeling it was due more to the Irish girl’s innate strength than his training during the past two weeks.
‘The countess went through a trying ordeal when the ship went down,’ he said.
‘You’d never know it, Buck. She’s got quite a wit. And those gorgeous clothes. Venise lace and Russian sable,’ she said with more than a trace of envy. ‘Mr Brady is quite generous, isn’t he?’
‘Yes. But that’s no concern of yours.’
‘Maybe… maybe not.’ She brushed by him, letting him get a whiff of her exotic scent and making him want to grab her and put her in her place. He didn’t, then he wished he’d had when she said, ‘I’ve heard American millionaires are fond of taking mistresses when it strikes them.’
‘Don’t try your tricks on Treyton Brady. He’s in love with the countess,’ Buck said, though it pained him to know that wasn’t true. Trey could never love her the way he did, damn him.
‘No man is immune if you catch him at the right moment.’ She turned away from him, but not before he saw an impish smile light up her pretty face. ‘Even you, Buck.’
What was she up to?
‘Be careful, Irene. I have great respect for the countess. Any man would consider himself lucky to have her as his wife.’
Christ, he had to be careful or she’d suspect there was more to his relationship with Ava than he let on.
She lit her own cigarette, surprising him, then blew out the smoke. ‘My, my, Buck, what bold words. I admit the countess is quite charming, though unsophisticated. I know life is dull in Scotland, but not that dull,’ she said, eyeing him. ‘Especially with you around to make it more exciting.’
Only a dead man would resist her charms when she dropped her fur-trimmed wrap and pulled him down on the settee. She knew how to play the game. She snuggled up close to him, whispering how much she’d missed him. He doubted that. Even lying, she was still beautiful, her breasts heaving up and down, her lips wet and luscious. Desire for him to make love to her consumed her.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Buck shifted his weight. He had the feeling it was going to be a long night. The woman with the golden-flecked eyes and light-colored hair was capable of sublime torture on a man to get what she wanted.
And she wanted something from him. But what?
‘Take your mind out of the gutter, Irene. The Countess of Marbury needed my help to introduce her to a suitable match,’ he said. ‘I was more than happy to oblige.’
‘You always were so direct, Buck. That’s one thing I admire about you.’ She ran her hand up and down his leg. Slowly. ‘Among other things.’
‘You haven’t changed, Irene, have you?’ God, she wasn’t making it easy for him to resist her. Still, he had to play her game. For Ava’s sake. ‘Seducing every man who piques your interest.’
She didn’t deny it.
‘But you’ve changed, Buck,’ she said. ‘I see it in your eyes. You’re in love. And it isn’t with me.’
‘You’re jealous, Irene.’
He should have known she’d be up to her old tricks whenever a beautiful woman stole her spotlight.
She laughed off the idea. ‘Me, jealous? Of her? Hardly. Though for a moment I could have sworn you were in love with the countess. She has a certain je ne sais quoi, as if she’s a different person from the one you described to me in London.’
‘Then you think she’s an imposter?’ Buck ventured to ask. Her scent sparked, her eyes snapping with indignation that he would ask such a question. He’d let her have her way for too long, gone well beyond the line of a gentleman dealing with a woman who had once been his mistress.
He had to know where she stood.
‘Of course not, Buck,’ she said, smiling. ‘Only a lady of noble blood with the regal bearing and impeccable manners of a countess would have the courage to challenge me.’
Buck smiled, relieved.
If Ava can fool Lady Pennington, she can fool anyone.
Irene pressed her breasts against him and brushed his lips with hers, a kiss as gentle as a summer breeze.
It had no effect on him.
What was wrong with him? Back in London, he’d be wondering what filmy lace underwear she was wearing beneath that tight dress.
Knock. Knock.
‘What the bloody hell—’ Buck said.
Irene laughed. ‘It must be the bellboy. I’m having your things moved to my suite so you won’t have to sneak down the hall.’ She slid her hand underneath his jacket and toyed with the buttons on his trousers. ‘Besides, it’s cozier.’
‘We’ll see about that.’
While Irene pouted, Buck tipped the bellboy to return his things back to his rooms.
With the money Mrs Benn-Brady insisted he take for his expenses, he could pay for his own suite. He’d made a promise to keep Ava out of Irene’s claws, but that didn’t include allowing her ladyship to take over his life.
No woman controlled him.
With unanswered questions nagging him, Buck took his time assessing her, his eyes moving up and down her slender body, every curve accentuated by pure silk.
It all started to make sense.
‘Enough of your games, Irene. Now tell me, what is the real reason you came to New York?’
Ava rushed through the lobby of the Waldorf. She was more unnerved by her encounter with Lady Pennington than she expected. Even allowing for the strain of the past few weeks, she couldn’t come to grips with the effect the woman had had on her.
A trembling within her made her hands shake. Her head throbbed.
She bit down on her lip, fighting the temptation to cry.
Why in the name of heavens are you holding back, girl? Have a good cry. Then be done with it.
Cry? No, never.
You gave your word you’d go through with this marriage, but you’d best heal your heart first. Let him go, lass, or he will be the death of you.
The gilt clock in the main hallway chimed midnight.
All around her she heard corks popping, women laughing and the melodious strings of violins plucking out a lovely waltz. A sense of urgency hugged the air. This upper-class life with its finery and splendor was now hers, his lordship said.
Then he left. With that woman.
There was no escape.
Ava had known this day would come when Buck would rush back into the arms of Lady Pennington. Her carriage was as elegant as a haughty swan, her wit perilous to anyone she found threatening.
Ava hadn’t expected to lose him so easily.
All night long she’d been imagining it was Buck she was engaged to, inhaling his masculine scent mixing with his black silk evening clothes, touching his forearm, feeling the contour of his hard muscle.
And now that dream had ended.
His job finished, he was gone from her life. When the story of her success hit the morning newspapers, she had no doubt Mrs Benn-Brady would announce her engagement to Trey at the charity dinner Saturday night.
What did it matter when she married Trey? Once she became the wife of the New York millionaire, Ava O’Reilly would be gone forever and she’d be safe.
Ava was trembling with frustration as she wound her way through the throng of people threading in and out of the tall columns of Sienna marble to get from one end of the hotel to the other.
With a deep sigh, she pushed through the revolving door leading to the street.
She hurried into the waiting limousine with Trey behind her. Ava insisted he order the car and take her home. She had to accept the inevitable. She would never be more than a passing fancy to his lordship. A way to pass the time aboard the luxurious liner, a frolic with a pretty maid. Perfect for a gentleman gambler.
No one could have foreseen the unbelievable series of events that had changed their lives.
All that mattered to Buck was winning his bet and making a lady out of her.
All that mattered to her was getting back to her room and sobbing her heart out. Then she’d be all right. She had to be.
‘I found Lady Pennington quite charming,’ Trey said with more than a hint of interest in his voice as the driver took off toward the Benn-Brady Fifth Avenue residence.
‘If you call a serpent with blonde hair charming.’
She’d found the woman distant and fascinating, a creature who lured unsuspecting males into her web.
All except Buck. That’s what made him so attractive to her. She hadn’t given up until she’d finally snared him.
‘Buck can take care of himself,’ Trey said as if reading her thoughts. He waved to the crowd gathered on the sidewalk outside the hotel.
‘He made that quite clear.’ Ava pulled off her gloves, loosening a button, then two in her haste.
‘I don’t understand why he let that woman back in his life,’ Trey said, taking her hand in his. ‘Aboard the Carpathia, I swore he was in love with you.’
Ava looked at him directly. ‘We were both wrong, weren’t we?’
Tears filled her eyes, then before she could stop them, fell over her cheeks, streaking her powder and wetting her lips. She licked them dry, the salty taste lingering on her tongue. Trey sensed her disheartened spirit and withdrew his hand. He didn’t try to kiss her.
