A Chance to Dream

by Lynne Connolly

  He took another sip. “I’ll go if you like.”

  “You don’t have to. You won me.” She sounded like a sulky girl.

  “No. I won the right to your company for one night. It’s my right to leave, if I wish.”

  “You’ll have to go through the company downstairs, or through the kitchen. Either way, people will know.”

  “So I have to stay a little longer, if I’m to preserve my reputation as a demon lover.”

  The muscles on her jaw relaxed. “Are you a demon lover?” The untouched brandy in her glass tilted when she relaxed her hand.

  He sipped, tranquil. “So I’ve been told.”

  She laughed. He smiled, and they were back to where they were before the compliments. The brandy in her glass tilted so alarmingly he leaned forward and took it from her. She stared at him, as though she had forgotten its existence. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

  She considered, frowning. “I had some brandy before I went downstairs. Then I had some champagne, then some white wine.” She lifted her head and stared at him, blinking owlishly. “Do you think I’m drunk?”

  “No. Just well-to-go, that’s all. But it might be as well if you didn’t have any more.”

  “You sound like Uncle Lucius.”

  With a slight shock he realized she must mean Lord Ripley. “I’m not Ripley.” He glanced around the room and saw what he was looking for. Getting to his feet he crossed to the small table and poured her a large glass of plain water, sniffing it first just to make sure it wasn’t gin. Coming back to her he handed her the glass. “You’ll feel better in the morning if you drink some water now.”

  She took the glass, frowning. “I’m not drunk.” But she raised the glass to her lips and obediently swallowed most of the contents, handing him the remains afterwards to put on the small table at his side. “I wonder what makes a demon lover?”

  Orlando blinked at her sudden change of subject, but quickly recovered himself. “Don’t you know?” He saw something in her eyes then. Surprise, perhaps, or speculation. It was gone in an instant.

  She shrugged again. “Maybe.”

  “If you want to, you can find out for yourself.” He felt the tension rise inside him, but quelled it ruthlessly. He still wanted her badly, but he wasn’t about to ruin everything for a night’s fleeting pleasure. Keeping his voice low and unthreatening, he leaned back against the end of the daybed, stretched his legs out before him. “This isn’t an advance, I swear it, but may I remove this coat? I would be more comfortable.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She watched him put his glass down, stand up and remove his elaborate coat with its stiffened skirts. He laid the coat across the back of the chair that stood before her dressing table, interested to note that few bottles and brushes adorned its surface, but a large dressing case, glittering with silver and crystal stood next to it. He went back to the sofa and sat down again, in precisely the same place. If he moved closer, she would notice, he was sure. He had an unreasonable urge to see her come to him.

  “Thank you. That feels much better. It will be summer soon and this coat is far too hot for such weather.”

  “What are your plans? Will you take Lady Perdita to the country?”

  He glanced at her. She was tense again. “If you will consent to come.”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  She looked away. “If you still want me. Most men wouldn’t want a woman like me dancing attendance on their sisters. I expected, once you—after tonight, you would want me to leave your household.”

  “What a fool I would be to do that!” She turned her head and stared at him in surprise. He met her gaze steadily. “You’ve made a real difference to Perdita. If I sent you away now, I think she would return to the apathy in which you found her. And without you, I would never have known how Dr. Sewell was keeping her in his orbit. I have suspicions about that man, and it occurred to me the other day that he attends my sister-in-law, also. She has a condition, but now I wonder if it’s as serious as the doctor claims.”

  “What will you do?” She lifted a frill of lace from her petticoat and began to worry it between her fingers.

  “What can I do? If I voice my suspicions I could be wrong. I don’t want to come between husband and wife.”

  There was a short silence, but it was of the companionable kind. “You could try separating them.”

  “Miranda and Daniel?”

  “No. Lady Rosington and the doctor.”

  He thought, then gave a crow of laughter. “Violetta, I think you have something there. Let me think on it. What a clever woman you are!”

  She smiled at him, enjoying the compliment where the others had made her uneasy. “Merely an onlooker. Sometimes they see more clearly.”

  “More than that.” He saw a slight stiffening of her jaw, as though she had suppressed a yawn. “Are you tired?”

  “Of course not.” She sat up straighter.

  “Yes you are. You’ve had a long day, and here I am trying to make it longer.” He paused. “I have a proposition.”

  “What would that be?” From her slanted eyes, Orlando knew she was suspecting the worst.

  He proceeded to try to reassure her. “Don’t worry. It seems that I’m trapped here for a while. Either that, or I traduce your reputation by leaving early. They will say you couldn’t keep me entertained, won’t they?” She nodded. “So why don’t we go to bed?” He saw the stiffening he expected. He was ready for it. “Not like that. I said that when you come to me I want you wholeheartedly willing, and I meant it. I won’t take you drunk, or even well-to-go. However, my dear, we’re stuck here for the night and there’s no sense us staying awake. I want you bright eyed in the morning, ready to resume your duties. Shall I take the daybed?”

  She blushed delightfully. Orlando watched her, enjoying the sight. “Are you game?”

  “Yes.” She got to her feet with that unconscious grace he enjoyed so much in her and walked over to him. “For sleeping. You may share the bed, Lord knows it’s big enough for four.” He chuckled, and she glared at him. “You know what I mean!”

  “Yes, I do. My lamentable wandering mind.” Reaching out, he began to undo her gown where it was hooked to the stomacher, trying to keep his touch practical, not lingering on that soft ivory skin he was uncovering. He wanted to know what it tasted like, quite badly by the time he had finished the long row of hooks on each side of the stomacher. “We’ll get you out of your corset, then I’ll leave you alone.” Oh God, what had he done now? Could he do this, wanting her as he did? He would have to. Orlando set his will to it.

  She submitted, allowing him to unhook her. When the gown was undone she shrugged her shoulders, and peeled it off, allowing it to fall to the floor. The stomacher followed it. He glanced at the gorgeous items lying on the carpet, rather than at the pale, pearly skin she’d just carelessly exposed. “I have a maid here,” she pointed out. “That is one reason why we should share a bed.”

  He laughed outright, a sharp bark of tension. “Am I right in thinking this house isn’t used for assignation?”

  “Certainly not! My mother could be imprisoned for that.” As though it was the most natural thing in the world, Violetta turned round to give him access to her stay laces. It was such a natural feeling he nearly fumbled them, nearly lost all control when he touched the soft skin of her shoulders. Violetta continued to chatter. “If people make appointments in our house, they must go elsewhere. In the past, she has occasionally lent a room, but no more.” He disliked hearing about this. She didn’t belong in this world. He wished her out of it for good.

  “There.” Deliberately, he stepped back and began on his own attire. She put her hands to her corset and let it drop, but didn’t turn back to him. She undid her petticoats and side hoops herself, loosening the cord and letting the garments fall. Then she turned to her stockings. Orlando’s greedy gaze followed her, never taking his attention away from her.
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  By now Orlando was down to his breeches and shirt. He watched her undo her garters and roll down the fine silk stockings, wishing with all his heart that she would allow him to do it, wishing he was somewhere else, anywhere else, wishing he hadn’t made her such a foolish promise. Tonight would be sheer torture.

  She turned and caught him watching. They exchanged a smile. “You can’t blame a man for looking.”

  “I suppose not. You’d better take your shirt off. When the maid comes in the morning she’ll expect to see some flesh.”

  “A perquisite of service here?” Nothing loath, he undid the ties at the neck, and drew the garment off over his head. “Satisfied?”

  “Are you wearing underwear?”

  Grinning, he removed his breeches, taking his time, now he knew she was watching. Perhaps he could torture her a little. Moving away from her he went around the room extinguishing all the candles except the one by the bed, pinching them neatly between finger and thumb.

  He turned back to her. His drawers were reasonably roomy, but there was no hiding his state of arousal. With a deep blush she determinedly lifted her gaze to his face. He chuckled. “I didn’t say I don’t want you, just that I would behave myself. I’ve never allowed any one part of my anatomy to rule the rest of me. Come, Violetta, come to bed.” He liked the sound of that. When he held out his hand she only hesitated slightly before she took it. It felt good, her hand trustingly in his, willing to do this with him.

  He led her to the bed, feeling like a bridegroom. A strange thing in such an establishment, when he had made her that promise, but this was, after all, the first time they would sleep together. He sent up a prayer that it wouldn’t be the last, that next time he would feel free to follow his desires. Drawing back the covers, he helped her in, then covered her and walked round to the other side. He got in and turned to her, lifting himself on one elbow. It was a large bed. There was no need to touch, but he couldn’t resist. “Would a good night kiss be in order?”

  “I think so.” She freed her arms from the sheet and curled them around his shoulders.

  He gave her a gentle kiss, but he felt it through his entire body. When he kissed her it was as though he had come home, met another part of himself. A feeling he could never remember experiencing before. He didn’t dare touch her any more. He wouldn’t let go, promise or no promise.

  He left her slowly and sank into the soft mattress by her side, drawing the sheet up and allowing it to fold in deep creases between them. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” He heard the yawn, and smiled into the darkness, feeling her settle and quickly fall into deep slumber.

  Orlando didn’t sleep that night, but watched over her. When dawn sent tentative threads of light through the shutters he got up, dressed silently and left.

  Chapter Ten

  “You’re late.”

  Swallowing her resentment of the sharp words, Violetta stood before Lady Perdita and bobbed a curtsey. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. Did you need me for anything in particular?”

  Lady Perdita glared at her, frowning. “Yes. I’ve almost decided to attend a public event of some description. I can’t decide what would be best.” She waved at a chair opposite her own.

  Violetta sat down and picked up the small stack of gilt-edged invitations from a side table. “Don’t you think a private affair might be best for a first appearance?”

  “I don’t know.” Perdita frowned in thought.

  At the gentle tap on the door, Violetta rose. Lady Judith swept in, resplendent in emerald green and pearls. “Good morning, Perdita! Such a lovely day! Will you come into the garden?” She bent down and kissed Lady Perdita fondly on both cheeks and then on the mouth. Lady Judith didn’t spare a glance for Violetta.

  Lady Perdita flinched away. “You look lovely, Judith,” she said hastily. “Come and sit down and help us to decide.”

  “Us?” Lady Judith made a great show of looking around her and spying Violetta. She spared her a small, frosty smile. “Ah yes, Miss Lambert. What is it you wish to decide, Perdita dear?” Her caressing tone was the same as always, neither more nor less.

  Violetta went into the dressing room and found a light shawl, all that Lady Perdita would need on this mild spring day. She draped it around Lady Perdita’s shoulders and went to find a footman.

  The ladies were soon settled in seats in the surprisingly commodious garden at the back of the house. Roses were beginning to blossom on the bushes near them, endowing their rich scent to the air. A tray containing a lemonade jug and glasses stood by. Correctly interpreting that she was to act the part of maid, Violetta poured two glasses and stood back. “Sit down, Charlotte,” ordered her mistress. “I wish you to help us to decide.”

  Violetta sat and picked up the cards. She suspected Lady Perdita was using her to avoid intimacy with her friend. It was increasingly difficult for her. Lady Judith’s attentions were becoming more marked with every visit. Knowing that Lady Perdita was standing by herself, that she would re-enter society, had made Lady Judith more proprietorial, not less.

  Violetta learned much about the great hostesses in society, many of whom were worse than her mother for the number of lovers they took, and their fidelity or otherwise. She had heard of them before, only not in as much detail. Lady Judith was in possession of a great deal of knowledge not available to the general public. She must spend much of her time with her ear firmly to the ground. Or the nearest door. Counting up the tally of La Perla’s lovers, the total was paltry next to some of the lists Lady Judith came up with. The knowledge only increased Violetta’s feeling that something had gone awry with her life.

  “A charming sight!” Violetta started more than she should have at the sound of his lordship’s voice, only to receive a sharp stare from Lady Judith. When her ladyship turned to Lord Blyth, her face was a picture of flattered welcome.

  “It was such a pleasant afternoon, my lord, that I prevailed upon dear Perdita to come into the garden for some air. The sunshine is not yet so great it will harm the complexion, and in any case, her ladyship’s delightful new bergère hat will protect her from the worst of it.”

  “Indeed it will.” Violetta caught his sharp glance. “But what is this, Miss Lambert? Have you no hat?”

  “I forgot it,” she murmured. In the fuss to get Lady Perdita outside and comfortably settled she had indeed forgotten her own needs.

  “Allow me.” Lord Blyth strode back to the house, only to return in a very few minutes with a fetching chipstraw hat, and a glass. He placed the hat on Violetta’s head, leaving her to adjust the ribbons, and poured two glasses of lemonade, handing one to Violetta with a smile. She returned the smile. An unspoken message passed between them, a look of conspiracy. They shared a secret now. Several secrets.

  Violetta had woken up in the middle of the night in his arms, somehow finding her way into them. It had felt good, and she had allowed herself a few moments of drowsy contentment before moving away from him. He let her go.

  It had been sweet, and so innocent.

  Lady Judith shot a sharp look at Violetta who hastily turned to the cards. “Should you like to attend a recital, my lady?”

  “How about the opera?”

  The lazy tones had Perdita staring at her brother. “We thought somewhere private.”

  “We have a box. You don’t have to allow anyone in you don’t want to and you can spend most of the performance sitting down. What do you think?”

  Lady Perdita nibbled her lower lip in thought. “It might do. I only need to be lifted in and then out at the end. Yes, thank you, Orlando, it’s a good thought.”

  “You won’t need Miss Lambert with you if I come,” Lady Judith remarked. It seemed casual, but Violetta knew it was not.

  “Oh, it is pleasant to have someone to fetch and carry for us,” Lady Perdita protested. “I think Miss Lambert should come.” She raked a glance over Violetta’s dowdy gown. “She won’t take the shine out of either of us, will you, Miss Lam
bert?” The question was a tease, but Violetta felt a pang. Like most women, she would have liked to have made a splash at a public event. She knew she could do so, and had done in the past, as La Perla Perfetta, but she could not afford to as Miss Lambert. Nor as herself.

  He was looking at her, she knew it although she did not turn her head to meet his sympathetic gaze. It would only add fuel to Lady Judith’s fire.

  “You will come with us, Lord Blyth?” Lady Judith prompted, slanting a look at him from beneath her lashes.

  “It would hardly be the act of a gentleman to offer you the box and then abandon you,” he replied with a smile. “Of course I will come, if you’re sure I won’t frighten your cicisbeos away.”

  For answer Lady Judith leaned over and struck him lightly with her fan, giving him a good view of her cleavage, had he chosen to take it. “My lord! Such a shocking thing to say!”

  He laughed. “Your court of admirers may be put off to find me constantly in your company, as I seem to be of late.”

  “They should understand that Lady Perdita is my dearest friend and needs my support!” she declared roundly. She spread her fan and began to waft it before her face, which was a trifle flushed.

  “I would hate to deter anyone,” he murmured and got to his feet. “Miss Lambert—would you care for a gentle stroll around the gardens to allow Lady Judith to…ah…cool down a little?”

  With a startled look at Lady Perdita, who nodded her consent, Violetta got to her feet and laid her hand on his lordship’s arm. They moved off into the rose garden. “That was wicked of you,” she murmured. “You know she has eyes for you!”

  “More than eyes, I fear,” he replied. “Her father made gentle enquiries last night. He wanted to know what my intentions were towards his daughter. It seems she’s been indicating to anyone who will listen that my interest in her is more than particular.”