"Sir George, I believe your wife is looking for you." Marcus's voice dripped ice. Antonia, glimpsing his set face over the gold braid of the Colonel's shoulder, thought she had never been so glad to see him.
Sir George swung round with an oath, failing to read the danger signals in his host's face. "Damn it, my boy, no need to spoil sport! After all, you've got Claudia to amuse you... " Sir, if you cannot take a hint, I may be forced to make my meaning more plain. I do not wish to embarrass Lady Reed, a guest in my house, by calling out her husband, but if you persist in annoying Miss Dane, you leave me no choice. "
Sir George's face purpled, but he straightened his scarlet coat and barged out of the room without a word.
"Nauseating man!" Antonia felt sick with reaction. "He is really quite beyond the pale!"
"Then why were you foolish enough to permit yourself to be alone with him in here?" Marcus demanded curtly.
Antonia was taken ahack by this attack. "I did not invite him here, I came in here to escape from his lecherous pawings, but it appears that his beloved wife had told him that I might welcome his repellent advances!" She stamped her foot with anger. "And if you had been half the man I thought you were, you would have called him out! But oh, no!
That might embarrass dear Claudi~ and we would not want to embarrass her, would we? Tell me, Mawus, just what lengths would he have to go to for you to challenge him?"
Marcus's face was cold, with all the old arrogance hack in his eyes.
"The man is old enough to be my father, and a guest under my roof..."
'and his wife is your mistress! And we do not want to upset him, do we? He might stop being quite so complaisant and take her away! You disgust me, the three of you! " Antonia turned her hot face away, wishing she could btcry it in the velvet drapes and burst into tears.
"There you both are!" Lady Meredith swept into the room, beaming to see them both together. Her smile froze on her amiable features as she saw the glittering anger in her brother's eyes and the rigid set of Miss Dane's shoulders. "I came to tell you that Mead has announced dinner. Marcus, will you take Miss Dane in?" She met his eyes, daring him to refuse, but instead he said politely, "Miss Dane?" Antonia, gaze averted, took his proffered arm and allowed herself to be escorted into the glittering dining-room.
Lady Meredith, deprived of a fifth lady by Donna's absence and forced to rearrange her table hastily by Sir George's behaviour, had none the less managed a reasonable disposition of her guests.
Marcus, at the head of the long board, faced his sister, who was flanked by Sir George and Sir John Ollard. With Mr. Leigh on Sir George's right, Anne felt she had safely isolated the Colonel from both his wife and Antonia. Miss Fitch had brightened considerably at finding herself opposite her beloved. Mr. Leigh and next to the paternal Lord Meredith.
Anne, despite some qualms, felt a certain malicious pleasure at seating Antonia and Claudia either side of her brother. They made a striking trio: her brother in the centre flanked by the two women, one so dark and vital, the other so voluptuosly languid. It was about time Marcus decided where his heart lay, his sister resolved.
Marcus met Anne's eye down the length of the gleaming table, heavy with plate and crystal, and raised his glass in an ironic salute to her. She smiled back, reflecting that her brother was never a poor loser and could be relied upon to rise to a challenge.
Antonia sipped the champagne Mead poured' for her, relishing its coolness, the burst of bubbles in her mouth. Normally she would make one glass of wine last all evening, but tonight she scarcely noticed that her glass was being refilled again, and then again as the fish dishes were removed with entrees and roasts.
The long windows had been thrown open to the warm evening air and the scent of beeswax, perfumes and food mingled headily. Marcus was being meticulous in his behaviour towards Claudia, maintaining a polite dialogue about trivialities and showing none of the ennui he would normally display at such chatter. But however attentive, he Was not flirting and seemed impervious to her coquettish looks and teasing jibes.
It was obvious to Claudia, if not to Antonia, that his attention was equally fixed on her rival. Antonia chatted easily with Lord Meredith, but when he turned politely to engage Miss Fitch in conversation, she found it difficult to talk to, or even to look at Marcus. She was acutely aware of him, of the Russian Leather cologne he used, of his long fingers as they played on the stem of his glass. She wanted them running up and down her throat, caressing her nape. Antonia pulled herself together with a start and took a long mouthful of wine. The effect made her blink with the horrified recognition that she had drunk rather too much.
"Lord Arlington..." Claudia managed to make the formal title sound like the most intimate endearment. "Please will you help me to just the tiniest morsel more of that lobster; it is so delicious."
"And matches your dress so perfectly," Antonia observed, then giggled, immediately putting her hand over her mouth to suppress the sound.
Marcus bit his lip as he struggled to serve Claudia without bursting into laughter at the sight of her cheeks, flushed with anger, as pink as the boiled crustacean.
Claudia, stung, responded acidly, "How brave of you, Miss Dane, to wear such a very trying shade of green. One so rarely sees it without feeling depressed, although Lady Jersey, I suppose; has the style to carry it off..." "Well, I wear it a good deal, but I can quite see that on an older woman with a faded complexion it could be difficult to carry off." Antonia took another sip of wine and continued smoothly,
"Unless, of course, she used a lot of rouge."
Anne, pausing to send a worried glance down the table, wondered what was being said to amuse Marcus so much. She would swear, if she knew no better, that he was hiding a broad grin behind his napkin.
Claudia had gone so pale with anger that her rouge stood out in circles on her cheeks. She took a deep breath, knowing how it enhanced the spectacular uplift of her breasts in the-low cut gown and reflected that Miss Dane, for all her pert charms, had not the advantage of being Marcus's mistress. Although, as he had not once come to her all the time she had. been at Brightshill, she was beginning to panic.
Damn his discretion! In London, she had sensed his attention was wandering after the' first few tumultuous weeks of their liaison. That was why she had invited herself down, playing on his $ister's good nature to inveigle herself into the houseparty, But Claudia soon discovered that Marcus would not tolerate loose behaviour in his own household with his sister acting as hostess.
Well, she had waited long enough for him to come to her room-~tonight she would go to his. Meanwhile,. she could give him a gentle reminder of what he had been ignoring. She put her hand lightly on his thigh, her long nails scoring the fine fabric, feeling the hard muscles tense in response.
Marcus turned his head sharply to meet Claudia's hooded gaze as her fingertips ran down, and then dangerously up, his thigh. As they insinuated themselves down between his legs, he grasped her wrist in none-too-gentle fingers and with great deliberation moved her hand back to her own lap.
Antonia saw the edge of the tablecloth move and had no difficulty interpreting the movement of Marcus's ann. Anger and determination ran through her veins like fire. She was tired of behaving like the well-bred virgin she was. If she wanted Marcus----and with the champagne coursing through her, she knew she wanted nothing more in the world--then she would have to fight for him.
Chapter Twelve
At the end of what seemed to the harrassed hostess to be an interminable meal, Lady Meredith at last stood up, gathering the attention of her female guests with a smile. "Ladies, shall we leave the. gentlemen to their port?"
As she got somewhat unsteadily to her feet, Antonia bent and whispered in Marcus's ear, "Meet me in the conservatory as soon as may be."
Neither the gesture, nor Marcus's rapidly controlled reaction, was lost on Claudia, whose eyes narrowed in speculation as she swept past Sophia Fitch and into the salon. What was that little provincial m
iss about?
Well, it scarcely made a -difference--tonight she would go to Marcus and obliterate everything but the knowing caress of her fingers from his mind.
Claudia sank down on the chaise with a scarcely concealed sigh. Oh, lord! Yet another interminable evening. She gazed at Anne Meredith with dislike; God, she was plain and such a bore, always prating on about the Whigs. And she was responsible for George being here. At least he knew better than to come to her bedroom. Seeing Sophia Fitch perching nervously at the other end of the chaise, Claudia decided to amuse herself by patronising the little mouse. "Tell me, Miss Fitch, when are you going to announce your engagement to Mr. Leigh? Such a worthy young man, I am sure. Does he have a patron? I suppose, coming from such an obscure family, he will need one."
Sophia, normally paralysed when addressed by the exotic Lady Reed, rallied at this attack on her beloved Richard. Her little figure quivered with indignation but her voice was steady as she replied, "Mr.
Leigh is one of the Hampshire Leighs, and as such need look no further than his uncle the Bishop for advancement. He is going as private secretary to Lord Seymour at the War Office, but hopes before long to stand for Parliament."
"Oh..." Claudia laid one small white hand on her forehead in a weary gesture '. do not talk to me of politics, it is so tedious. "
"Well, in that case," Sophia snapped, "I will not bore you any longer."
Slightly staggered at her own temerity, she rose to her feet, walked across the room to the piano and began to pick out a new hal lad
Claudia shifted her attention to the other two women. Antonia, to her experienced eye, had had rather too much to drink, although she doubted if Anne Meredith had noticed. What was that minx up to? She was plotting something with Marcus, and now she was shifting uneasily in her chair, glancing every few moments at the ormulu clock on the mantel shelf
Antonia, unable to bear sitting still any longer, bent and whispered in Anne's ear.
"Oh yes, my dear," her hostess whispered back. "Down the corridor on the left, the third door. Marcus has had one of Mr. Bramah's flushing water closets such a benefit."
Antonia admired the newfangled sanitary arrangements, wondering how much it would cost to replace the old earth closets at the Dower House.
She glanced in the. mirror on the wash stand, tweaking her hair into order~ and wishing she had a little rice powder to calm her hectic cheeks. That last glass of wine sang in her veins, making her feel quite unaccustomedly reckless. mind, it would g~ve her the courage to do what to do and drive Claudia out of Marcus's mind for
The conservatory was filled with a damp heady scent of lilies underlaid with wet moss and A few candelabra had been set on columns plant stands and beds of ferns, casting of shadow. Moths fluttered in through the open fatally drawn by the voluptuous smell of the plants towards the candle times.
Antonia strolled up and down the tiled floor, her swishing in the stillness. Would he come to angry scene in the study? She walked on, in growing anxiety as the wine-induced to ebb away. No, he was not coming, she had lost,
"Antonia." His voice was husky and
Antonia's heart leapt in her bosom, but she to face Marcus, the man she loved.
The moonlight burnished his hair, shadows across his face, veiling his eyes. But she see his mouth curling with a sensual tenderness rise and fall of his shirt, gleaming white against blue cloth of his coat, showed that he was not master of his emotions.
"You wanted to speak to me?"
"No, what I wanted was this." Antonia stepped straight up to him, wound her arms sinuously around his neck and, pulling his head down, fastened her lips full on his.
There was the merest hint of hesitation: she had taken him by surprise, acted as no well-bred young woman would ever dream of acting. But then his instincts took command and Marcus pulled her tighter against his body, deepened the kiss, opening and exploring the softness of her mouth, the scent of her filling his nostrils, sending his senses reeling, even against the backdrop of the lilies.
Without freeing her mouth, he swept her into his arms and carried her effortlessly to where a bench had been set in a bower of fragrant stephanotis. Antonia found herself nestling on his lap, the strength of his thighs supporting her, his arms holding her fast against his chest.
The kiss went on and on druggingly, sweeping away all reason and sensibility. Antonia had prepared a little speech, all about how she was prepared to forgive him if he renounced Claudia, but even if she had been able to free her mouth, she could hardly recollect what she had intended to say.
At last his mouth left hers and she gave a little moan of protest which became a whimper of sheer sensual pleasure as his teeth nibbled gently down her throat, his tongue-tip tracing the sensitive line of her jaw before his lips found the swell of her breast.
His lips were so hot on the satiny cool curves, they seemed to burn where they touched. Antonia's hands pushed under the edges of his coat, her fingers caressing and tasting the firm flesh beneath the fine lawn of his shin.
Her tinge nips found the waistband of his breeches, tugging his shirt free so she could press her palm against the smooth muscled back.
Marcus groaned deep in his throat and cupped the swell of her breast in one hand in an answering caress. His thumb stroked against the silk of the bodice, sending such a sensual shock coursing through her that Antonia gasped.
Concerned, he raised his head and gazed into her eyes. For a long moment their eyes held in a wordless communication, then Antonia saw his eyes flicker as his attention was caught by something behind her.
To Antonia's shock she found herself deposited unceremoniously onto the cold ironwork of the bench as Marcus got to his feet, tugging his waistcoat straight over the chaos she had wrought with his shirt.
"Marcus..." she protested softly.
"Shh!" he hissed, hard eyes staring into the dark foliage. Leaving her breathless on the bench, he stepped out into a patch of moonlight.
"Claudia!" His voice was heavy with sensuality. "So, this is where you are. I was looking for you." He took another long stride;
Antonia, peering through the tangle of foliage, saw him reach the side of Claudia Reed, bend his head and claim her lips with a hard kiss.
Antonia was too shocked even to gasp, then too humiliated to risk being seen by the other woman, who was greedily kissing Marcus, her knowing body curving into his.
"Later, Claudia, later," Marcus murmured, leading her towards the door.
"We must rejoin the others, or it will cause COlTUYlent."
White-faced in the moonlight, all intoxication burned away by anger and. humiliation, Antonia stared at a moth scorching its wings in the candle flame. Just like me, she thought in desolation, scorched by my passion for Marcus.
She should have known he was not a forgiving man: she had refused his suit, she had tricked him on the riverbank with Jeremy, putting him mat a disadvantage in front of the other man. She had let her satisfaction at the trick show too plainly this evening and he had wreaked a terrible revenge on her, guaranteeing she-would never dare cross swords with him again.
Bereft, humiliated, stricken to immobility by misery, she sat on, unheeding of time, until Anne Meredith sought her out~ concern on her face.
Antonia, my dear, are you unwell? " Who could doubt it, looking at the pretty face so pinched and pale, the elegant fingers cramped in the folds of her gown?
"No ... yes." Words seemed to come from a long way away; it was. an enormous effort to squeeze them past her stiff lips. "I think I have caught a chill ... forgive me, but I must go home. May I have the carriage?"
"But, of course, my dear." Lady Meredith hurried out, returning some minutes later with Antonia's cloak and reticule. "Let me put this round your shoulders--why, your hands are quite frozen! Mead is sending for the carriage, it will not he long. Would you like me to accompany you back to the Dower House? Miss Donaldson may not have returned..."
"No, no, thank you. You'are very ki
nd, but I shall he better by myself. I am so sorry."
"It is I who am sorry," Anne Meredith replied grimly as she helped Antonia to the front door, cursing the stupidity of all men, and her brother in particular. Not for a moment did she believe Antonia's story. When a young girl is found alone in a conservatory in a distressed state and another woman is almost crowing with triumph, it did not take a genius to understand what had passed.
Anne stood looking after the disappearing carriage, anxiety on her face, fury in her heart. She would speak to her brother tonight. What was he about, she fumed as she re-entered the salon, trifling with a lovely young girl who was worth a hundred of that Reed strumpet? To her frustration, Marcus had ordered the card tables to be set up, foiling her desire to get him alone.
Marcus caught his sister's eye as she swept into the room, guessing from the sounds of carriage wheels on gravel that she had just handed Miss Dane into the conveyance to take her home. His mouth set in a grim line, he continued to play, determined to give Anne no opportunity to speak to him that evening. Beside him, Claudia pressed her thigh against his, her breast brushing his arm whenever she leaned across to examine his cards. No, he needed to avoid Anne tonight, he had other plans.
Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane Page 21
