Vanessa suddenly swung around to face him. “And you, Mr. Talverton, need to repair immediately to your bed.”
Hugh blinked at her words, coming as they did on the heels of his erotic thoughts. He stirred uneasily in his chair, afraid he would soon embarrass himself before all by the evidence of his increasing arousal. Hastily he clamped down on his wayward emotions, his teeth grinding with determination. He allowed a slow smile to curve his lips upward in a lopsided manner.
“You are correct, Miss Mannion, and I should be grateful for your assistance.”
Mrs. Mannion heard their exchange and broke off ministering to Adeline to address them: “Yes, Vanessa, please do. We do not want him passing out again, and I’m afraid he went beyond his limits when he picked up Adeline. I really should have forbidden it,” she mused. “But Vanessa, as Mr. Talverton no longer appears to be in danger of delirium, we may dispense with vigilant nursing,” she added pointedly.
Vanessa blushed at her mother’s words, acknowledging the propriety, but realizing it warred with her desires. When she saw him smile up at her with his crooked grin and his golden blond waves falling across the white bandage on his head, the tingling surged rapidly up from her toes to shake her entire being. She offered him her hand to aid him in rising but wondered, as she struggled with the light-headedness his nearness created, who would be supporting whom.
Trevor, kneeling on the floor beside the sofa where Adeline lay, rocked back on his heels as he watched the silent drama being enacted between Hugh and Vanessa as she escorted him out of the room. He nudged Adeline to view the play as well, and noted Mrs. Mannion watching with complacency while holding up her hand to her husband to forestall any comment from him.
Neither actor noticed the attention they were receiving from the others in the room as they walked arm in arm toward the door. Vanessa was interestingly pale, and Hugh remarkably formal, yet each tried to maintain a covert regard for the other that was not lost on the rest of the company. Mr. Mannion turned to his wife, a question in his eyes. She nodded. He turned back to watch them exit the room and grinned, with a renewed spark in his eyes that had been missing for four years.
Vanessa quietly touched the door handle, then hesitated, looking up and down the hall before silently pushing the door open. Hugh was sleeping, the etched lines of pain erased from his brow. Vanessa smiled and tiptoed into the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind her.
She shouldn’t be in his room now. She understood her mother’s strictures well. Nonetheless, she chose to ignore them for she needed to see Hugh again, to drink in his presence and dream on what might have been. She crossed to the bed, her hand reaching out to gently brush a lock of hair off his forehead, her slender fingers trailing through his thick blond waves.
All of her life she had been so intent on understanding everything she came in contact with. It was a drive within her. She’d felt the world was run by logic, and all a person had to do was know the rules. Funny, she thought, how those twisted ideas rooted themselves in one’s mind. She’d never dreamed there were emotions that defied rules, emotions that created chaos, a beautiful chaos that felt right.
Such were the emotions gripping her now. She loved Hugh, and her mind was in chaos. What was a person to do when love was not returned full measure? Louisa was lucky, it seemed, for she’d discovered a complete love that was returned. How uncommon was that occurrence, and why did life have to be so unfair as to create love that may not be returned? The trial upon her soul was great, yet it was a trial she bore with gladness for the knowledge she gained of herself and life.
She leaned over to place a kiss on Hugh’s forehead.
Hugh woke the moment her hand touched his hair, the feather-light touch caressing his head like a gentle breeze. He didn’t move but looked out through his lashes. His heart pounded. He was afraid she would hear it, so loud did it sound in his own ears. He was ecstatic at her attentions, and knew he had only to be still to claim what was his.
He felt her lean over him and his arms ached to rise and grab her, tumbling her into the bed beside him. He felt a quick, hot tightening in his loins and prayed the covers would not betray him.
“I’m going to see if I can speak to Talverton now, before Trevor returns with the documents.” Richard Mannion’s voice came from the hallway, just outside the bedroom door.
Vanessa jerked away from the bed and silently Hugh cursed, for his breathing had become labored, his body alive with anticipation of Vanessa’s kiss. She looked around distractedly, then ran toward the large armoire that dominated a corner of the room. Opening its door, she stepped inside, pulling the door after her just as her father entered the room.
Hugh was delighted by Vanessa’s precipitous action, and found it difficult not to smile.
“Mr. Talverton? Hugh? Are you awake?” asked Richard Mannion, slowly approaching.
Hugh stirred on the bed, feigning waking. His eyes fluttered open. “Oh, it’s you, Richard. Yes, I’m awake,” he said, yawning broadly.
“Good, good,” Mannion said, dragging the Windsor chair closer to the bed. He sat down and leaned forward. “Trevor’s presented your plan to me.”
Inside the armoire, Vanessa started. What plan? she thought. She peered out through the crack in the door, maneuvering until the small slice of the room in view revealed her father seated at Hugh’s side.
“Great,” Hugh said hurriedly, “why don’t the three of us discuss it further when Trevor returns?” He was very much aware of Vanessa’s listening presence, and therefore wanted to shut her father up.
“Can’t say I’m happy to be taking your blunt now, but I wouldn’t be an honest man if I didn’t voice my thanks,” Richard continued.
Hugh ground his teeth. “My money?” he tried to say lightly. “It’s what I owe you. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“No, no, I can’t do that. Those funds could be invested and earning you interest rather than be used to bail out a foolish old goat from his dreams of grandeur.”
“You did what you thought was best,” Hugh said forcefully, exasperation edging his voice. He was expecting Vanessa to pop out of the armoire at any moment and confront the two of them. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Richard nodded heavily, then a smile curved his lips. “You didn’t do it for me, anyway, did you?” he cajoled, poking Hugh in the ribs. “I’ve seen how you look at my daughter,” he said sagely, rising to leave.
Hugh winced when Richard poked his bruised ribs, more from the man’s words than from any pain he felt. He was surprised Vanessa had not shown herself in a fit of righteous indignation. She had more self-control than he would have thought. He only prayed she’d maintain a modicum of that self-control when she confronted him. Richard’s words sounded far more damning that the reality. He hoped he could make her listen.
Richard took his hand in his, then clapped him on the shoulder before he turned to leave the room. Hugh watched him go with mixed emotions. The man had decidedly more life in his step, and that was good. He only prayed he had not completely ruined his chances with Vanessa. This was one instance where her sense of pride would probably overpower her propriety and passion.
The bedroom door closed with a sharp click, and Vanessa exploded out of the armoire in a flurry of coats and shirts.
“Before you say anything, Vanessa, let me explain,” Hugh said.
Vanessa blinked and stopped short. “You knew I was in the armoire?”
“I wasn’t exactly asleep,” he drawled, his smile broadening as he watched the play of color upon Vanessa’s face when she absorbed the implications of his words. She started to draw back, but his hand shot out to captive her arm in a viselike grip. She tugged and twisted to get free. He laughed shortly. “No, you’re not going to run away from me again,” he warned. “Not ever, if I have anything to say about it.”
His words halted her struggles. She stared at him, stunned.
He chuckled, and tossing the covers aside, sat up and swung
his legs to the floor. He gathered her closer to him. She made a little mewing sound of protest and pushed halfheartedly on his chest, but it was all for pride. Passion soon swept pride aside and propriety never had a chance as she melted into him while he rained kisses across her brow and down her neck, nibbling on her ear as he passed.
“I love you, you proud, stubborn wench,” he growled huskily.
She moaned again softly, and his mouth captured her parted full lips in a teasing kiss that sent quivers to the core of her being, heating her from within until she radiated a melting passion. She answered his kiss with the pressure of her own lips, and when his tongue teased the corners of her mouth, she parted her teeth to bid him enter.
He leaned back against the bed, pulling her with him, until they fell among the pillows and linens. Hugh’s hand roved over her back and she arched to meet his body with her own.
“Vanessa,” Hugh murmured as his lips left hers for a moment to trail kisses across her face. He raised a hand to her face, gently tracing the outline with his fingertips. He lifted his head to look at her, a thoroughly masculine, raffish smile on his lips. “You do realize, don’t you, that we are in a highly compromising position?”
A delicate blush suffused her face, but she met his gaze squarely. “Yes,” she returned simply, then nuzzled his neck and whispered in his ear, “It is a position I desire to investigate further.” She lifted her head to look at him. “But not now,” she said, sliding out from his arms and rolling off the bed.
He lay back against the pillows, his eyes mere slits as he watched her straighten her clothes and run a trembling hand over her hair, ineffectually patting wayward strands into place. “When?” he finally asked after the silence had lengthened and it seemed she no longer could meet his eye.
Her brow shot up at the hint of a challenge, and she turned to look at him coolly, her hand sinking to her side. “When I know your love is not the toy you mentioned at the ball,” she said archly, then grinned, spoiling the effect. “But now I must leave, for you have effectively demonstrated that you no longer need a nurse, or anyone, to check up on you. You are a madman for whom there is no cure.”
“Oh, yes?” he asked silkily, springing upright to grab her again. This time she sensed him coming and danced lightly out of reach. She backed up to the door.
“They say, Mr. Talverton, that patience is a virtue. It is a virtue it would be wise for you to cultivate if you truly desire me.”
She opened the door and was out in the hall before the pillow he threw hit the door.
Hugh slumped back against the pillows of his bed, an appreciative smile on his face for his beloved’s humor. She was correct. It was time he wooed her properly, time he treated his damsel in distress like the feisty princess she was. With Wilmot defanged, he would tend to his wooing with tender ardor before he risked all and formally request her hand in marriage. He looked forward to the day he would be taking her back to England with him.
“Paulette!” Vanessa called out gaily as her friend swept into the front hall the next morning in a flurry of lemon yellow froth. Charles crossed the hall more soberly in her wake, though a faint smile traced his lips.
“Vanessa! We must be off shopping immediately! There is so much to do, and so little time! I must have a new gown, and you, my friend, must help me to choose it, or I shall be lost.”
Vanessa laughed. “Quick, tell me all, I am agog,” she enthused, hooking her arm with Paulette’s.”
Hugh followed her into the hall and laughed at the meeting, exchanging a wry glance with Charles.
“Say, what is this?” Charles demanded, eyeing Hugh’s bandage.
Hugh touched the white material briefly. “A minor misunderstanding,” he said lightly. “More an inconvenience than a problem.”
“Is Richard about?”
“He’s in the library with Russell Wilmot at the moment.”
“Ah—”
“Do you know the situation?” Hugh asked as they turned toward the parlor.
“Not entirely, though I have my suspicions,” Charles admitted.
“Later I will be pleased to tell you the whole sordid details. But what of you, Paulette? How did you fare?”
Paulette giggled and squeezed Vanessa’s arm before answering. “The count, he is a trifle young, for he is only four and twenty—”
“So says the ancient eighteen-year-old,” said Charles. Paulette stamped her foot. “You, you have done nothing but tease me. You know nothing of what it is like to be in my position. Now, I tell you, the count, he is young, but very gallant and oh so handsome. He comes to the city with the Balignys next week. There will be a theater party, and a card party to which we are invited.”
“Louisa has even decided to bring Celeste to the city for a couple of days and join in the merriment,” put in Charles.
“The timing could not be better,” said Hugh as they neared the parlor, his eyes twinkling.
“Why?” Charles asked.
“Because—”
“You’ll regret this, Mannion!” swore Russell Wilmot as he threw open the library door.
The party in the hall stopped and turned toward the library.
“I don’t believe so, sir,” Richard returned coolly as the two men entered the hall.
“I’ll see to it that you don’t get a single inch of warehouse space in the city!”
“Well, you may certainly try, but I would warn you, I have been in this city longer, and though you are accepted, it will raise many eyebrows to wonder why you choose to blackball me.”
“Remember those papers!” Wilmot warned.
“No one would find them more than a curiosity now, and I don’t believe you’ll discover much purchase from them.” Richard looked up and noted the assembled company in the hall. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Wilmot, my son-in-law is newly arrived, and I would pay my respects.” He gestured Mr. Wilmot toward the door.
The man scowled and stalked after him, but he stopped when he came even with Hugh. “You’ll regret your meddlesome interference, Talverton.”
“I? But I am only a visitor to your city and do not expect to be here long. What purpose would it serve you?”
Paulette’s eyes grew round and a fine dark eyebrow rose as Mr. Wilmot took his hat and cane from Jonas and flung himself out the door.
“Me, I think I have missed much in three days! To see Mr. Wilmot so routed, oo-lala, it does my heart good. He is a devil, that one, and you are well quit of him, Vanessa.”
“You have the right of it,” rasped Richard Mannion, striding over to the group. He shook his head as if to clear the last bit of ichor left by Mr. Wilmot out of himself. “Come, let us join Mother and Adeline, and you, you naughty puss,” he said, chucking Paulette under her chin, “may tell us how you fared with your genuine aristocrat.”
Paulette laughed gaily. “Tres bien, but I feel I have missed much here,” she said as they all entered the parlor.
“Only a tirade from Vanessa, an attack upon Mr. Talverton and Mr. Danielson, and Adeline’s engagement.”
Paulette clapped her hands. “Vraiment! Adeline is engaged?” She ran over to Adeline and hugged her closely. “This is so exciting! Me, I am speechless! Let me guess, it is Mr. Danielson, no? I saw you in the garden at Louisa’s, you know,” she said slyly.
Adeline blushed bright red and all looked at her expectantly. “It was nothing; he merely helped me to gather flowers for the ball,” she finished lamely.
Paulette swung around to Vanessa and Hugh. “And you two, have you also settled things between you?”
“Paulette,” scolded her brother.
“What? When they left the estate, they were not speaking. So stupid, when everyone could see how they reacted to each other.”
“Must you arrive and put us all to blush, Paulette?” Vanessa complained amid general laughter.
“Phtt! You still take yourself too seriously,” she stated, sitting on one of the sofas. “But tell me, how have you left thing
s, or have you waited to have me come and put you to right?”
Vanessa blushed anew. “You are impossible.”
“We have agreed to a courtship. Beyond that, we wait and see,” Hugh told her.
“Wait for what? A sign from God?”
“Paulette!”
“Pardon, but I do not believe this. Here are two people, so obviously in love to all who see them, yet they play at coy indifference like two children. It is insupportable,” she said, sadly shaking her head.
“We have much to discover about each other,” Vanessa explained softly.
“Yes, and I would like to learn all I can about this woman while we are still in New Orleans. I’d like to see it through her eyes and understand how it worked to make her the most marvelous woman in the world.”
Everyone smiled and laughed, all feeling calmer now that Mr. Wilmot was properly defanged. While Paulette launched into a recital of her past two days, Hugh pulled Vanessa though the French doors onto the gallery.
“What do you mean, while we are still in New Orleans?” Vanessa asked as they strolled in the shade.
“In the time we have here before we sail for England,” Hugh explained absently, more intent on threading her fingers through his.
“To live?”
“But of course to live. Where else would we live?”
“Here,” she said flatly, stopping short.
He looked at her perplexed. “Here?”
“Yes, I have no desire to go to England. I thought you would stay here,” she exclaimed aggressively while pulling her hand free.
“There is nothing for me here, Vanessa—” he began.
“There is me,” she offered simply.
“But if we married, you would come with me,” he said patiently, coming forward to gather her into his arms.
She pushed him away and danced backward. “Ah— Now you have just said the key word—if.” She shook her head in amazement. “I cannot believe your blind arrogance, to suppose I would simply up and leave New Orleans just to be with you! No, I take that back,” she said, holding up her hand as another thought occurred to her. She ignored the flare of fire in his tawny eyes and continued: “I have always known you were arrogant, I just thought it was a trait I could wean you of. Obviously I was mistaken.”
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