Scandal at the Midsummer Ball

by Marguerite Kaye

  Her eyes were still puffy as she finished her toilette, but a combination of powder, and a rearrangement of her hair to fall over her face would hopefully be enough to keep anyone from guessing how she had spent her afternoon. She dreaded seeing Fergus, yet she longed to see him. How to endure the evening watching him, knowing how much she had hurt him? Far easier than to endure a lifetime knowing she had ruined him, she told herself.

  Arriving at the maze by her brother’s side, she was distracted by the chaos which greeted them. Surprisingly, the Duke of Brockmore had lit not only the true path, but every path. Katerina had not had the temerity to correct any of his guests as they made their way to the centre—or failed to—but she did redirect several bemused footmen wandering aimlessly around the outer reaches bearing silver salvers of rapidly cooling food. It was to be hoped that the ice statue on which the caviar was to be served would not melt in this muggy heat before the last of the guests found their way to the centre of the maze.

  Atlas and his plinth had been moved to one side, a feat which must have taken a great deal of manpower, allowing the large square table to be set up in the centre. Katerina was seated between her brother and the flamboyant Sir Timothy Farthingale, who asked her why she had not worn traditional Russian dress for the occasion, and looked somewhat confounded when she informed him that she did not own such a thing. Her only decent evening gown was plain cream satin with a spider-gauze overdress worked with a simple pattern of circles in her favourite blue, and festooned with satin ribbons in the same colour around the flounced hem. Sir Timothy assured her that she looked radiant, but he couldn’t disguise his disappointment as he eyed Alexei’s black dinner clothes, asking plaintively why he preferred buckled shoes to the long pointed boots of the Cossack.

  The rest of the guests and more of the footmen were arriving now, some of them wearing the foliage evidence of a close encounter with a maze dead-end. Her heart thudding so loud she wondered no one else heard it, Katerina waited anxiously for Fergus to arrive. When he did, he was alone, and her heart, still unable to accept the futility of her love for him, leapt in her chest, her pulses quickening. His hair was combed ruthlessly back, and in the light of the braziers, was the shade of ripe wheat. His dark evening coat showed off his broad, soldierly build to perfection. They had parted on such dreadful terms. Was he angry with her? Hurt? Did he still love her? Would he speak to her? Ignore her? She couldn’t bear any of it. He had spotted her. He was heading towards her. Alexei was watching him and her brother’s expression was black.

  She got to her feet, half in mind to run, when an odd sound coming from an unlit corner at the centre of the maze halted Fergus in his tracks. It sounded to Katerina—but it could not be—yes, it sounded like a balalaika. At the same time, looking very unlike his usual stately self, Thompson, the duke’s butler, arrived leading the lost guests, and ushered all, including Fergus, to the table. He was seated directly opposite her, between the twin sisters. The balalaika struck up again, and the unseen player launched into a jaunty tune as the duke and duchess appeared, attired in what they clearly believed to be Russian peasant dress, though no Russian peasant to Katerina’s knowledge wore rubies and gold thread in their headdress. Beside her, she could sense Alexei trying not to laugh. She nudged him, but it only made him tremble more. ‘I do sincerely hope that they do not intend to dance,’ he muttered.

  ‘Dear boy,’ Sir Timothy replied, ‘if that is something you could do—say, on the tables—I believe the good old D. of B. would be thrilled. I had no idea he was taking this whole Russian thing to heart.’

  To Katerina’s surprise, Alexei laughed. For the duration of the seemingly never-ending meal, the two of them talked, leaving her little to do but nod and smile occasionally. The extrovert Englishman knew a surprising amount about the world of travelling artistes such as the Vengarovs and even more surprisingly, seemed to have contacts at the Russian court, which he would, he averred, be more than happy to exploit in their favour.

  Though Monsieur Salois had excelled himself, and though most of the receipts he had used had been Katerina’s—or more accurately, her mother’s and her grandmother’s—she could eat nothing. A black cloud took hold of her. Whatever Fergus felt or didn’t feel for her, her love for him was futile. It was safest and kindest to avoid him. As soon as dinner was over, she slipped away, leaving Alexei and Sir Timothy to discuss the relative attractions of vodka over whisky.

  She had reached the edge of the maze when he caught up with her. ‘Katerina.’

  She jumped. ‘Fergus. You startled me.’

  ‘I need to talk to you.’

  It was late, the sky an inky blue. In the shadow of the tall hedges of the maze, she could not make out his expression. ‘I don’t think there is anything more to be said.’

  Fergus took her arm, leading her purposefully towards the rose garden, giving her no option but to follow him. He came to a halt in the corner furthest away from the maze and the house. The stars cast a shadowy light here. The air was heavy with the perfume from the roses. ‘There is one thing you did not say today, Katerina.’

  His voice was gentle. Her heart seemed to have forgotten how to function normally. A moment ago it had been fluttering and pounding. Now it seemed to stop altogether. ‘What was that?’

  He stroked her hair back from her face, gazing deep into her eyes. ‘You did not tell me you love me,’ he said, ‘but nor did you say you do not.’

  Her mouth went dry. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t drag her eyes from his. ‘Fergus...’

  ‘If you loved me, nothing else would matter, Katerina. I know you spoke with Lady Verity. I can guess what she said.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you can. She said that Wellington was so impressed by your integrity that you could have your pick of any posting. You have not ruined your chances, Fergus, you have given yourself more choices than you could ever hope for.’

  ‘Yet all I hope for, all that matters to me is one thing. I love you, Katerina.’

  He loved her. Her heart soared, then plummeted. ‘Fergus, Lady Verity is right,’ Katerina said urgently, ‘it would be such a scandal, I would ruin you.’

  ‘And if you are not by my side, you will make me miserable. Katerina, my love, my dearest, if I cared about the things they do—ambition, influence, money—then I would have offered for Lady Verity. But I don’t. All I care about is you. You are all I need to make me happy. I want you to be my wife, to be by my side through thick and thin and everything else that life may throw at us. I love you.’

  ‘Fergus, I am not fit to be your wife. You know you were not the first man I...’

  ‘And you were not my first woman, but I want you to be the last. The only. If you love me?’

  She could deny it no longer. ‘I do. Oh, God, Fergus, I do. I love you so much.’ The words brought such relief that her doubts fled. ‘I love you.’ She threw her arms around his neck. ‘I love you every bit as much as you love me. More. Much more.’

  He laughed. ‘Not possible. I can’t believe it. No, I can. Earlier...’

  ‘Oh, Fergus, I am so sorry I hurt you.’

  ‘To spare me pain. Foolish Katerina. The only pain would be losing you.’

  ‘You won’t ever lose me now. I won’t ever let you go.’

  ‘You won’t have to.’

  ‘But there will be such a scandal. We have a saying in Russia. “When love whispers, reason falls silent.” How are we to live?’

  ‘Hush.’ He kissed her slowly, lingeringly. ‘Tomorrow, we’ll think about that. Tonight all I care about is telling you I love you.’

  ‘And showing me?’

  He laughed, picking her up in his arms and holding her high against his chest. ‘And showing you.’

  * * *

  Yesterday, when he had made love to Katerina, he had not known that he had truly been making love. To
night it was different. Tonight, he knew he loved her, and she loved him. Love flavoured their kisses, giving them a new sweetness, a drugging tenderness, a different heat. This was not the first time for them, but neither was it the last. There was all the time in the world to touch, and to stroke, and to kiss. To cup her breasts, and her delightful derrière, to explore the soft flesh of her thighs, and the quivering muscles of her belly. There was all the time in the world for her to touch him too, and to kiss him and to stroke him, her fingers sending waves of heat through his blood, making him ache to enter her, giving the anticipation its own quivering tension.

  He murmured her name over and over as he kissed her. Her breath became faster, morphing into the softest, most arousing of sighs. There would be other times, when he would gather her in his arms, have her twine her legs around his waist, as he had dreamed, but for now he wanted to worship her, to show her how much he loved her.

  Her kisses became deeper, and her touch became surer, and as he stroked into her, felt her tense and tighten, he felt his shaft tense and tighten in response. He entered her as her climax took her, riding on the pulsing waves, shuddering as she clenched around him, as she said his name, her fingers digging into his back, her heels into his buttocks, driving him harder, faster, hurtling him into a new world, clinging tightly as he flew higher than he had ever flown before.

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday June 21st

  Brockmore Manor House Party

  Programme of Events

  Annual Brockmore Midsummer Games

  The Midsummer Ball

  ‘You’re awake.’

  Katerina sat up, pulling the rumpled sheet over her naked body. ‘You didn’t leave.’

  ‘I couldn’t.’

  ‘We’ll create a scandal if you are discovered.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking that I’d rather like to create a scandal,’ Fergus said, joining her on the bed.

  ‘What kind of scandal?’ Katerina asked, though her attention was only half on his words. Fergus was already aroused. Looking at him, she felt the answering tingle in her blood, the awakening pulse inside her. He pulled the sheet away and rolled her on top of him. ‘What scandal?’ she asked again, with considerably less interest.

  ‘It can wait,’ he said, kissing her.

  They made love again, slowly and patiently at first, before building to a frenzied climax, hearts pounding, chest on chest, their skin sticking with sweat, their fingers entwined.

  ‘What scandal?’ Katerina prompted him, when their hearts had slowed and the sweat had dried.

  ‘A great big scandal that no one can ignore, that will have everyone in the world talking about us, not just the Duke of Brockmore’s guests.’

  She laughed, but eyed him nervously. ‘That sounds dangerous.’

  ‘It is. That’s one of the attractions.’ Fergus kissed her lingeringly, before rolling out of bed. ‘Horses and guns,’ he said, beginning to dress. ‘Horses and guns, and planning, and manoeuvres. The tools of my trade. It never occurred to me that they had more than one use.’

  Laughing at her confusion, he kissed her again. ‘I am tired of my world. I am tired of being hidebound by convention, and I’m tired of being predictable. I want something new—something completely new. I want something dangerous and exciting. I want us to make our own world, Katerina.’

  The gleam in his eyes was infectious. ‘How would we do that?’

  ‘A circus,’ he said with a dramatic flourish. ‘A spectacle so dazzling that it will make Astley’s Circus seem like a mere sideshow. We will become the toast of America.’

  ‘America!’

  Fergus grinned. ‘Our new world. Our land of opportunity. You said you wanted to go there.’

  ‘I did. I do.’ Katerina clapped her hands. ‘Alexei has always wanted to go too. You do wish Alexei to be part of this, don’t you Fergus?’

  ‘That is up to Alexandr. I don’t want to have to watch my back every day for the rest of my life.’

  Katerina chuckled. ‘He does pride himself on his knife-throwing skills. A friend of our father’s taught him. But seriously, Fergus, you need not worry about my brother. He wants only for me to be happy. No, that is not wholly true. If you give him the opportunity to dazzle new, bigger audiences—no, Alexei will not be the problem.’

  ‘I am pleased to hear it.’

  ‘Yes, but, Fergus, such an enterprise as you are imagining will cost a great deal of money to establish.’

  ‘And it will earn a great deal of money once it becomes successful. That is where Sir Timothy comes in, my love.’

  ‘Sir Timothy Farthingale?’

  ‘Don’t let that gentleman’s foppish dress mislead you. He would be an excellent backer. He has sound business acumen, and a reputation for achieving the impossible. Don’t underestimate him.’

  ‘Indeed, he certainly dresses like a performer.’

  ‘He may attend our opening night, but I do not anticipate him doing anything else save provide the funds.’

  ‘It will be a huge amount of work to set up, Fergus.’

  ‘Enormous. I’m imagining our circus on the Roman scale rather than the Russian one.’ Fergus took her hands between his, smiling down warmly at her. ‘What do you think, can we do it?’

  ‘I believe I once said to you that you are an extraordinary man, Fergus Kennedy. I think you can do anything you wish.’

  ‘We can do it, together, my darling. What have I said to make you cry?’

  Katerina sniffed. ‘I never dreamed I could be this happy.’

  ‘Nor did I.’ Fergus kissed her lingeringly once more, before tearing himself away with a sigh. ‘We must catch Sir Timothy before these blasted games begin. Will you meet me in the library in an hour? I must get back to my room and exchange my evening clothes for something more suitable.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Farthingale may prove more amenable if I appear in my kilt.’

  Katerina giggled. ‘Then there would be two of us in the room who would not be able to take our eyes off you.’

  ‘The only eyes I’m interested in are green, and if you don’t stop looking at me like that...’

  ‘Go.’ Katerina wrapped the sheet around herself. ‘Go. We have the rest of our lives to look at each other, but only one chance to catch Sir Timothy.’

  * * *

  The ballroom of Brockmore House had been transformed for the Midsummer Ball. Stars twinkled from the dark-blue gauze which hung in swathes from the ceiling. Exotic potted ferns and dwarf trees stood in clusters, giving the impression that the forest had crept indoors from the grounds. Lanterns were hung at regular intervals. The subtle scent of pine wafted in through the terrace doors, which had been thrown open, and where Katerina stood nervously by Fergus’s side. Below, on the South Lawn, one of the Kilmun ladies could be seen dancing with one of the male guests to the music of a hidden orchestra.

  ‘Cecily, I believe,’ Fergus said, after a moment. ‘It seems Brigstock has made his match. The duke will be pleased on that score.’

  Katerina edged closer to him. ‘But it won’t compensate for the match he had his heart set on. Fergus, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to be here. I don’t belong.’

  He took her hand, tucking it firmly into his arm. ‘Here in fairy land?’ he said, waving at the ballroom. It did indeed seem to have acquired a magical quality, for the ladies had taken the duchess’s theme to heart, and were decked out in gauzy gowns, tiaras, and spider-web lace. ‘I can’t think of anywhere more fitting for two people hovering between worlds,’ Fergus said. ‘Besides, if things go as Lady Verity seems to be planning, the duke will get his nephew-in-law.’

  Katerina eyed the tall, extremely thin man standing by Lady Verity’s side. ‘Surely he cannot be her choice?’

  ‘Well, he was her partner of choice for th
e treasure hunt. I believe they found the diamond in the orchid house together. It looks like they may have found something else besides.’

  ‘But he is so—I can’t believe she prefers that man to you.’

  Fergus laughed. ‘Thank you, my love. He is, however, extremely rich, and extremely influential. Perhaps Lady Verity sees something in him which you cannot.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Katerina said, looking sceptical. ‘I hope she is not simply clutching at straws.’

  ‘I would like to think that she’s following our example, and taking her fate into her own hands.’

  Thinking of the long hours of discussions they had had earlier, Katerina’s stomach fluttered with excitement. ‘We are taking a very, very big chance.’

  ‘One that could make us very rich.’

  ‘That is what Alexei said. I told you he would not need much persuading to accept you.’

  ‘He almost bit my hand off,’ Fergus said, grinning. ‘Where is Alexandr tonight?’

  ‘At the dance in the village, preening himself with the fair maidens who cheered his knife-throwing prowess at the games this afternoon.’ Katerina chuckled. ‘I suppose you will wish to add that to our list of acts, Monsieur Grand Circus Master.’

  Fergus laughed. ‘I’ll concentrate on what I know for the moment.’

  ‘Horses and guns.’

  ‘Re-enactments, with real soldiers.’ Fergus’s expression turned serious. ‘My friend, Jack Trestain, was Wellington’s famous code-breaker. Now, he spends his life exposing the things Wellington would prefer remained hidden. The soldiers who have no jobs. The soldiers’ widows who have no pensions. We can help these people, find them gainful employment, and in the process create a spectacle like no other.’

  ‘And so you will be an officer again, only without the bloodshed.’

  ‘And you, Katerina, are you willing to be an officer’s wife? I have asked you twice now, and I don’t believe you’ve actually said yes.’