“I’ve heard the man allows his customers to alter designs,” Leroy sniffed. Folding his arms, he studied details of Reagan’s clothing. “I dare say, I don’t recognize the smaller lapels. Don’t tell me,” he said, chuckling, “the poor man ran short of cloth.”
Reagan smiled tolerantly. He was not unfamiliar with Leroy’s habit of sprinkling ridicule when among friends. “Oh, I gave him a request or two,” he acknowledged. “However, since Ives has an eye for fashion, I felt confidant in allowing him to guide me. But, perhaps I err,” he turned to Beauregard who looked decidedly outraged. “Mr. Barrington has been a fashion authority as long as I can recall. What do you think, Beau?”
Beauregard was at his finest when his ire was raised. Not only had Leroy insulted the clothier’s skills, he needlessly slighted his best friend.
“Oui,” Beau tapped his chin, as he pondered Reagan’s silver-hued ensemble. “One cannot deny the quality, as Monsieur Du Monde imports only the finest materials. And, the cravat accentuates the jacket’s color as fine as any I’ve seen. You must admit, sir, the fit is flawless, is it not?”
“I-I suppose any tailor can cut cloth to measurement,” Leroy sputtered, ignoring Camilla’s warning glare.
Beau nodded. “You might have a keener eye, but I say the garment perfectly magnifies Monsieur Burnsfield’s physique.”
From across the room, Elizabeth listened to Beauregard’s praise. She secretly agreed the fit looked perfect as she was at that moment, recalling the feel of Reagan’s chest against her hands. Although it wasn’t the first time she shared a bed with a male, it was the first time she felt possessed by one. In her moment of passion her nails had raked his back. Later, she cursed herself for not staying long enough for Reagan to awaken sober and deal with the reality of her presence. Lowering her gaze, she bit her lip in frustration.
Amanda too, was reliving her own experiences. From her point of view, Reagan was indeed the most attractive man in the room. With the truce between them, she permitted her thoughts to roam even as her eyes rested on Reagan’s hands. The memory of what those hands were capable of doing, caused her to blush.
“One has to admire your own taste in clothes, Monsieur Spelding.” Beau’s eyes were two lit coals. “The splendid suit you are wearing was highlighted in Godey’s no more than…” he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, “…two years ago. While Reagan’s attire will not be featured until Godey’s spies set their eyes on him.” The group laughed nervously as many recognized Beau’s hidden jibe.
Camilla touched his arm. “I’m sure Leroy didn’t mean to be disagreeable. Let’s find our places at the table, shall we? Then, you can tell us the story of your balloon ride.” A general enthusiasm arose at the promise of one of Beau’s stories.
“Oui,” he acquiesced. “My pardon, ma cherie.”
Reagan noted Amanda’s heightened color when he offered his arm. “My dear, have you taken a fever?”
“No,” Amanda whispered as they moved toward the dining room. “‘Twas only a thought.”
Intrigued by what caused the sudden flushing, Reagan bent toward her ear. “What naughty ideas have crossed that pretty mind of yours?” Aghast at his intuitiveness, she could only stare into his face.
“Surely, not about Beauregard?”
“No,” she blurted, “about you.”
Reagan chuckled as they neared the table. “Well then. We’ll just have to explore that later tonight.” Amanda smiled tightly, shocked by what she just admitted. Her fears of being baited were forgotten however, as he dropped the matter. Later, as the birthday cake was being served, Reagan casually captured Amanda’s hand. She first thought to snatch it back. But, the wine had a disarming effect and she allowed it to rest in his lap until music signaled the end of dinner.
Chapter Seventy-Four
As strains of music filtered in from the ballroom, Leroy cleared his throat then made a show of withdrawing a box from his pocket. Heir to the Spelding fortune, it was widely accepted he was one of the richest men in Cantonsville. Although he perpetuated that notion, in reality, his father maintained control of his inheritance. As such, Ezra had advanced a far smaller sum for purchasing an engagement ring than many, most notably Camilla, might’ve imagined befitted the bride-to-be.
“Why, Leroy,” Camilla said, touching her throat. “I had no idea you’d be presenting a gift.” Well-practiced tears filled her eyes. “Since all our friends are here, I suppose it’d be permissible to let them share the moment.”
A warm murmur swept the room as Leroy opened the case with a flourish. Camilla’s eyes fell hungrily onto a diamond solitaire nestled between stud earrings. Though obviously worth a goodly sum, the jewels fell far short of the ornate and extravagant jewelry she expected. Camilla looked into Leroy’s face in total shock. Real tears of humiliation fell as she recalled her boastful words describing the jewelry she’d have showered upon her once she became Leroy’s betrothed.
“It-it’s b-beautiful!” she choked.
Lifting her hand, Leroy slipped on the ring. “Why darling,” he said. “You’re trembling!”
The women gathered round and after a few moments where Camilla tolerated their compliments, she abruptly turned to Leroy. “Darling, the music has started.”
“Of course, my love.” He nearly tripped in his haste to rise, but paused as he spied the jewelry box. “Camilla dear, the earrings. Don’t you wish to put them on?”
“Leave them!” she hissed, taking his arm.
When they entered the ballroom, Leroy grasped Camilla in a rigid embrace. Then nodding to the orchestra, he soon had her spinning in dizzying tempo.
As others joined in, Reagan turned to Amanda. “Milady, would you honor me with a dance?”
She smiled as she watched Leroy’s stiff-legged waltz. “Only if you protect my toes should anyone draw near.”
“Of course,” Reagan said, grinning. Settling a hand on her waist, he offered the other. “But first, you must come closer.”
Reasoning she’d be safe enough, Amanda placed her hand in his. However, the moment she entered his embrace, she realized she underestimated his presence and could scarce control her beating heart. She tried resurrecting her anger by recalling his past indignities but to her shock, could barely feel annoyance. Her accusations, which until now had bolstered her resolve, fell silent. It must be the truce, she decided, that caused her weakness. And since he couldn’t read her mind, she hoped he wouldn’t recognize her vulnerability.
Yet, Reagan saw the struggle in her eyes. Hope surged that this could be the beginning of a permanent reconciliation. He longed to breach her self-imposed barriers and awaited her signal she’d accept his advances. As they swept across the floor, the music soothed Amanda’s unease and by degrees, she relaxed. It felt good to be in his arms and had she been of a mind to admit it, she missed the intimacy they once shared.
Emboldened by her softening stance, Reagan repositioned himself to draw her even closer. Her perfume played havoc with his senses as he caressed the small of her back. “You must tell me about those naughty thoughts,” he breathed, his lips grazing her temple.
Tiny shivers prickled her skin wherever his fingers moved though it wasn’t until they reached her middle back that she found her breasts pressed against his chest. As if coming out of a stupor, Amanda grew rigid. “I beg your pardon,” she said, loosening his embrace. “I don’t recall our truce including intimate touching.”
“Oh, was I doing that? I thought I was being an attentive husband.”
“If I recall correctly, our agreement was only to enjoy ourselves.”
“But, I was doing just that.” His eyes glittered with suppressed desire. “I was enjoying you.”
Instead of being outraged, Amanda became amused. “Do I need to remind you of your promise to be a gentleman? Or, should I doubt your sincerity?”
“How haven’t I lived up to my promise?”
“Besides fondling me, you’ve taken liberties with your speech that wo
uld’ve shocked any decent person,” she scolded. “With ‘naughty’ this and ‘naughty’ that…”
Reagan leaned in so his words only reached her ears. “But these things are permitted, nay expected, among married couples. If we don’t display a little intimacy, others might think ought is amiss between us.”
Amanda looked around. “No one’s paying attention, so there’s really no need.”
“Ah, except for the truce, you’d be correct milady,” Reagan declared. “Didn’t you agree that for tonight we’d forget our differences?”
“Yes, but--”
“I’m but fulfilling my end of the bargain,” he interrupted. He drew her hand to his lips as the music ended. “But to appease my lady, I’ll refrain from further attentions.”
After they left the floor he accepted a glass of champagne from a nearby servant. Taking a sip, Reagan checked his watch. He knew better than to rush. Wooing Amanda back to his bed would be a slow and careful process.
As the next dance began, Leroy whisked past with Camilla, his elbows and knees demonstrating his exuberant vigor. Camilla’s ribbon headpiece lay askew and if not for her guests, would have shrieked in indignation at his jarring treatment.
Reagan chuckled. “I fear Camilla will have flattened toes before Leroy improves his dancing skills.”
“Shhh!” Amanda whispered as Anson Rutledge approached with Elizabeth. “Someone may hear you.”
“I say ol’ boy,” Anson said, slapping Reagan’s back. “You caused quite a stir with your fancy suit, didn’t you? I thought Leroy was going to pop a vessel,” he chortled.
“Leroy was in error,” Elizabeth said. “I believe the outfit is complimentary to the man.”
Reagan bowed before winking at Amanda. “Why, thank you. My tailor promised the ladies would notice, though, I’ve yet to receive a compliment from Mrs. Burnsfield.”
“That’s because it’s unseemly to openly flatter the object of one’s affections,” Elizabeth said, flushing. “Tis better to wait for a private moment for a woman’s approval.”
“Then your compliment is doubly appreciated,” he said with a smile. “I consider it a privilege to have been given insight into a woman’s mind.”
For some reason, Reagan’s banter with Elizabeth pricked Amanda’s heart. Though denying herself the pleasure of his favors, she resented his attention being given to another. “Mayhap, one has to witness worthy behavior to receive the flattery you desire,” she said, forgetting they weren’t alone.
“The lady speaks the truth,” Reagan said, holding a hand to his heart. “And, I beg forgiveness. Like many of my gender, I spend more time clothing my frame than choosing words that fall from my lips.”
Amanda suddenly realized the impoliteness of her words. She wasn’t expecting his blunt admission and felt ashamed of her behavior. “My pardon,” she apologized. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Twas my fault,” Reagan was quick to intercede. “I baited you in sport. And it was a bad joke at that. Please,” he said as he gave each a glance, “forgive me.”
Anson shoved a hand in his pocket, jingling coins. “Quite all right, ol’ boy. Leroy’s always saying my jokes lack refinement. Come to think of it,” he said, furrowing a brow. “Leroy’s ridiculed every witticism I’ve ever told!”
When the orchestra began playing a popular cotillion, no one noticed the small, sharp kick. “Oh!” Anson winced. “If-if I have your permission,” he said, looking at Reagan. “I’ve yet to have the honor of dancing with your wife.” He glanced nervously toward Elizabeth before stiffening his spine. “I-I just realized the last time we were together, I neglected my duty.”
Reagan did his best to appear untroubled. “Whatever the lady wishes,” he said, smiling at Amanda. “Have you sufficiently rested, my dear?”
Still embarrassed by her outburst, Amanda decided she could use the time to regain her composure. “Of course,” she nodded, “with your permission, Elizabeth?”
“By all means!” Elizabeth released Anson’s arm. “A dance or two,” she suggested brightly.
As Anson and Amanda joined the others, Elizabeth stepped closer and opened her fan. “It’s such a lovely party,” she sighed while fanning her perfumed bosom. “I was pleased to see you came.”
“Yes,” Reagan agreed politely. For several moments neither spoke as they watched the dancers perform the quadrille.
Elizabeth inwardly fumed at her inability to gain his attention. Deciding she was being too timid, she leaned over and grasped his glass. “May I?”
Startled, Reagan withdrew his fingers. “Allow me to summon refreshments for you.”
“Oh no,” she said. “I only need a small sip.” After taking a swallow, she passed the glass back, not noticing when Reagan purposely set the drink aside. And though she affected an alluring pose, he gave her no further heed.
Elizabeth’s eyes roamed the ballroom with growing frustration. “They do make a handsome couple, don’t you think?” she blurted.
“Who?”
“Why, Camilla and Beau. I’ve often heard Camilla say Latin’s are the true masters of the dance floor.”
“I wouldn’t say that too close to her betrothed,” Reagan said with a laugh. “Leroy may take exception to you thinking he’s not a good match.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time two people were ill-suited for each other.”
“Are you suggesting their engagement was a mistake?” he asked, looking at Elizabeth.
“I’m merely saying what’s obvious to everyone else,” she said, shrugging. “Camilla is marrying for ambitious reasons. As for Leroy, he’s oblivious to Camilla’s schemes. He can’t see past her beauty.”
Reagan smiled as he shook his head. “I must’ve missed that bit of intrigue. I thought Leroy had gotten lucky in love.”
“Let’s just say Leroy is lucky to have wealth or he wouldn’t have Camilla’s love.” She looked intently into his eyes. “Haven’t you known two people who shouldn’t have married?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Reagan considered the peculiar coupling of George and Emily. “And yet, together they remain.”
Elizabeth slowed her fan, pleased at the turn of conversation. “That’s too bad. It’s not unheard of in this day and age, to obtain a divorce.”
“There’s always that option,” he conceded. “Let’s hope Leroy and Camilla won’t need to follow that path.”
“But you do agree it’s an acceptable choice for those who shouldn’t have wed.” Her voice grew excited. “I mean, would you consider divorce an option, if marriage became insufferable?”
“I suppose I wouldn’t rule it out, if both parties were miserable and there wasn’t hope of reconciliation.”
As the cotillion ended and a waltz began, Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed. “The music sounds inviting, does it not?” When Reagan only nodded, she formed a pretty pout. “Mr. Burnsfield, aren’t you ever going to ask me to dance?”
“It’d be an honor,” he said as his manners came to the fore. Though he preferred awaiting Amanda’s return, he obligingly accompanied Elizabeth to the floor. He noticed that where he had to coax Amanda to draw near, Elizabeth had no trouble finding the smallest distance between them.
“So tell me,” she ventured, “how did your meeting go with Papa?”
Reagan weighed his words before speaking. If she’d really been the one to arrange his meeting with Mr. Hayes, good breeding demanded his appreciation. “It seems the encounter was mutually beneficial,” he said finally. “Still, I’m curious. How’d you know he could further my business?”
Elizabeth felt her importance surge. “Watching Papa has made me aware of how business operates within politics.”
“But, why would you intercede on my behalf?”
“Tis better your friends profit than your enemies, Papa always said. Besides, I wanted you to know how special you are to me.” She stared at his lips, recalling the intensity of his kisses. “There’s so much more I can do.
If you let me, I can be very attentive to your needs,” she whispered, her fingertips tracing the back of his neck, “especially since you’re being neglected by your wife.”
Instead of welcoming her offer as she had fantasized, Reagan finally realized what Elizabeth was seeking. “I’m afraid, that’s not how I do business,” he said, removing her hand. “And, despite what you’ve heard, Amanda’s done nothing to deserve being called anything but a perfect wife.”
The shock on Elizabeth’s face verified the enormity of her miscalculation. “But, the circumstances of your marriage…you staying at a hotel,” she accused. “Surely, it’s true…”
“All my doing, I assure you,” Reagan spoke low so others wouldn’t hear. “And, though your offer is enticing, I’ve no wish to alter my circumstances.”
Elizabeth’s face flushed as she stopped dancing. “I must go,” she gasped. Fleeing toward the door, Elizabeth was unaware Reagan followed. He reached out, just as she was about to exit. “Elizabeth,” he said. “Wait.”
Crushed beyond measure, tears formed under her lids. “I’m so sorry. I mistook your behavior as something it obviously wasn’t.” After years of secretly pining for Reagan’s notice, Elizabeth had become encouraged by rumors of a swiftly failing marriage. She had contrived a plan to make Reagan hers, but his outright rejection ended all hope. “Please, forgive me,” she mumbled, slipping out the door.
Reagan was about to pursue her, when Beauregard and Camilla approached, followed by Anson and Amanda. “Tiens! Mon Ami,” Beau said, tugging his sleeve. “You must settle a wager.” He affected a pose, placing hands on his hips. “What say you, monsieur? Is it not true that I am the fleetest of foot in the whole ballroom?” He pointed an accusing finger at Amanda. “Yet, vos épouse claims that you are the premier danseur!”
“I only said I find it easier to follow Reagan’s lead,” Amanda redressed the Frenchman. “I didn’t say you were a less excellent dancer.”
“This is what happens when I clumsily bump into Camilla,” Anson chimed in, “which soon caused Beau to argue about my skills as well as the skills of every other man in the room.”
Threads of Betrayal Page 34
