Midnight Rose

by Patricia Hagan

  Ryan looked at him then and sharply asked, “What do you mean? Who is she, anyway?”

  “Zachary Tremayne’s stepdaughter. That says it all, doesn’t it? She’s no debutante. She wasn’t even invited. She and her mother just barged in, hoping, no doubt, to find her a husband. But they’re wasting their time. The only thing the men are thinking about is a quick tumble in a hayloft. They know they’d be disinherited if they dared court such trash. Like I said, she’s turning this into a ball for those looking for a mistress, because that’s all she’s good for. Granted, she’s beautiful, and I wouldn’t mind—”

  “Trash?” Ryan echoed curiously, cutting him off. “Why on earth would anyone think of her as trash? What’s she done?”

  “Why…nothing that I know of.” Keith shrugged, unnerved by his question, then recovered to snap, “Come now, Ryan, you know what an unscrupulous bastard Tremayne is. America banned slave trading from Africa and the West Indies over ten years ago, but he’s still into it, and everybody knows it. They say he makes regular runs into the Carolinas to buy slaves illegally smuggled in, then sells them to plantation owners farther south. He’s making a fortune.

  “I’ve got nothing against owning slaves,” he airily continued. “Goodness knows, I’ve got my share, but I also got them honestly.”

  Ryan couldn’t resist a wry grin. “Maybe you’re angry because you paid more for them on the block than if you’d bought them privately from Tremayne.”

  Keith stiffened with indignity. “That’s not so.”

  Returning his gaze to Erin, Ryan probed, “Do you know her personally?”

  He shook his head. “I used to see her in church with her mother, but that was a long time ago. I think she went away somewhere. One thing is for sure, she’s made a lot of people angry tonight, and you can believe those drooling young men are going to catch hell from their parents for wasting time fawning over her instead of doing what they came here to do—look over this season’s crop of debutantes.”

  “Well, from what I’ve seen, she’s not only gorgeous. She has the ability to make them enjoy themselves. There’s none of the stuffy demureness and artificial charm the others ooze with. I’d say she seems to be the most appealing woman here.”

  “But class is what it’s all about, my friend, and you’d be wise to keep your observations at a distance. Victoria Youngblood would sooner invite that strumpet you had in your bed last night to tea, than walk on the same side of the street with a member of Tremayne’s family. Now I think I’d better get back to Mary Susan. The dancing is starting.”

  He went back inside, but Ryan stayed where he was, even more fascinated than before. If Erin Sterling had indeed dared to show up without being invited, then there had to be a good reason. And, since she also had to be aware of the low esteem with which her family was regarded, then she’d realize not one of the eligible bachelors attending would seriously consider courting her.

  What, then, was her motivation?

  Could it be that she was actually searching for a wealthy paramour in the only way she knew how?

  He intended to find out.

  With a faint smile teasing the corners of his lips, he remembered he just happened to be seeking to fill such a position himself.

  A persistent young man named Carl Whitfield was standing next to Erin as the dance music began. Before she could protest, he exuberantly grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the center of the ballroom floor, where men and women were lining up in two opposing lines to do the fast-paced reel. She hadn’t planned to participate but found herself caught up in the excitement, started clapping in time to the music, having a wonderful time—till a waspish voice said, “You’ve got your nerve! Barging into my home uninvited and then throwing yourself like a hussy at all my male guests!”

  Erin whipped about to see it was Carolyn Manning who had spoken, her face flushed with rage. Several of the girls behind her were also glaring furiously.

  Just then, the caller began singing out instructions, and the lines began to move.

  Erin couldn’t join them, because all at once she knew she had to escape. Never in her whole life had she felt so resented or out of place.

  No one paid any attention as she slipped away, moved to the side, melding with the crowd of onlookers. Carl would soon discover he didn’t have a partner, but she couldn’t be concerned about that.

  Glancing quickly about, she was disappointed not to spot her mother. If she had, she’d have begged to leave then and there. Knowing she had to try and compose herself, she darted through the doors and out to the terrace, where there was no longer a gathering around the champagne fountain. She took a glass from a table, held it beneath the delicious sparkling spray, then gulped it down. She was shaking all over, but not from embarrassment. The reality was that her temper was rapidly reaching the boiling point, because who the hell did they think they were, anyway?

  Personally, she didn’t give a damn to be invited, but her mother certainly deserved the courtesy. There wasn’t a more charitable or kinder person in all of Richmond. Arlene Tremayne was always doing something nice for someone, yet these snobs had the nerve to exclude her from their intimate circle merely because she happened to be married to a rogue.

  Erin filled her glass again, scowling through the open doors at the merrymakers. Then, unable to bear watching any longer, she left the terrace and walked out into the formal gardens. She was assailed by the intoxicating fragrance of roses and took a deep breath to drink in the sweetness. Beyond the terraced steps was a winding path. She had no idea where it went, didn’t care, for what she sought was a momentary respite in order to calm down and be able to go back inside.

  She paused to take a single red rose, her favorite over the yellow, pink, and white blossoms that were everywhere. Pressing it to her lips, she was about to move deeper into the perfumed night when she was startled at the sound of footsteps. Whirling about, she realized a man was approaching, slowly, deliberately, almost as though he was stalking her.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said curtly, “but are you following me?”

  “No,” Ryan glibly lied in response, then challenged, “Do you think you’re the only one who has a right to escape the boredom?”

  She didn’t miss the humor in his voice, took a few steps to see him in the light filtering down from the terrace lanterns. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and, she noted, powerfully built. He had a nice face, not handsome, but ruggedly appealing. His hair was the color of sand, thick, only slightly wavy where it brushed the collar of his well-fitting coat. She found herself drawn to his eyes, a shade of indigo blue; she also liked the warmth she perceived. He was almost caressing her with his gaze. He smiled down at her, and she actually felt her checks grow warm. What was wrong with her? Men never affected her that way. But then some tiny little warning bell rang inside, and suddenly she knew this wasn’t just any man. For one thing, he was much older than any of the hopeful bachelors inside, probably near thirty. But it wasn’t merely his age that made him different. There was an air about him, she noted at once, of strength, confidence; yet she was sure she sensed tenderness as well. Politely, she held out her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Erin Sterling.”

  He caressed her fingertips and said, “Yes, I know.” Then added with candor, “You’re the daring young lady who came without being invited but wound up being the proverbial belle of the ball. I admire your temerity, but if you don’t mind my asking, why did you do it?”

  She withdrew her hand. Stiffly, because she really didn’t feel it was any of his business, she explained, “Because my mother wanted me to come. She seems to think I’ll find a husband here. It doesn’t matter to her that I’m not looking for one.” Then, matching his audacity, she informed him, “You haven’t told me who you are, and I might ask why you’re out here, instead of inside with the other wife hunters.”

  He saw the twinkle in her lovely brandy-colored eyes, took note of the undercurrent of contempt in her voice a
s he thought how she was even more beautiful up close. Her skin was like rich cream laced with coffee, soft and begging to be caressed. There was a voluptuousness about her, as though her body reached out, begging to be touched. He was shocked to realize he was actually fighting the impulse to take her in his arms then and there, to kiss her full, sensual lips. He gave himself a mental shake and drew in a deep breath before responding, “The name is Youngblood. Ryan Youngblood. I came here at the request of a friend who’s a widower, making his own debut to let everyone know he’s out of mourning. As for why I’m out here instead of in there, I don’t happen to be a wife hunter, as you call it.”

  “Then where is your wife?”

  “I don’t have one.” He didn’t feel the need to add that was only a temporary situation.

  Erin had at once connected the Youngblood name as being associated with one of the most prosperous horse breeders in the state. But she’d never heard of him specifically. “So?” She cocked her head to one side and couldn’t resist goading, “Why are you wasting your chance to find one? I don’t remember seeing you even mingling about.”

  “Haven’t seen anyone I wanted to mingle with…till now.” He lazily grinned.

  She felt a delicious rush, quelled it with feigned indignity. “I’m afraid you’d be wasting your time. Not only am I not looking for a husband, I happen to find this whole ritual degrading.”

  He raised an eyebrow. If she was opposed to the concept of the ball, wasn’t there in keeping with it, then it was strange she’d subject herself to certain scorn and ridicule merely at her mother’s insistence. He’d observed the brief scene with Carolyn Manning, figured when she took off like she did that Carolyn hadn’t exactly been saying she hoped she was having a good time. So maybe Erin Sterling did have an ulterior motive, and perhaps her mother was a part of it. There was no harm in finding out, and it might turn out to be a spicy diversion to an otherwise boring summer. “Well,” he said finally, “now that we understand each other, why don’t we both enjoy the evening—together?” He held out his arm to her. “Would you care to dance?”

  Yes, she realized with pounding heart, she would, very much, but was compelled to remind him with a mirthless chuckle, “They’re doing the reel, Mr. Youngblood, and I’m not exactly welcome in the ladies’ line. Next, they’ll probably break into a four-couple quadrille. They won’t want me there, either. So, if you want to enjoy yourself, I suggest you join them and leave me to my roses.”

  He burst into delighted laughter. She was so wonderfully different from the other women he knew, without guile and with a good sense of humor. He liked that. He liked her. It was going to be fun learning just what her game was, and with a sudden, unmistakable stirring in his loins, he couldn’t help thinking how she might just be the woman he was looking for, the mistress who’d make his life with Ermine bearable.

  “I think I’ve got the solution to that,” he told her mysteriously, “that is, if you dare…and if you don’t mind raising a few more eyebrows.”

  Erin was still so bitter over the way she and her mother had been treated that she was willing to take his dare. She also had to admit she found him intriguing, interesting, exciting—as well as attractive. She took his arm, acknowledging she wouldn’t mind raising a few more eyebrows at all.

  He led the way back into the ballroom. The reel had just ended, and everyone was standing about, waiting for another to begin. Excusing himself to Erin, Ryan made his way to where the musicians were resting. When he returned, he explained, “I was in Paris not long ago, and I learned a new dance, which is quite different from anything this country has seen. It’s called the valse. It’s done in couples, facing each other, embracing…like this.” He positioned her left hand on his waist, her right arm raised outward, palm pressed against his. Then, as the music began, a sweeping, light, melody, his other arm embraced her, and he whispered, “Just follow me, in a kind of sidestep, forward, side, and back, as though we’re stepping off a box. Keep in time to the music, relax, and let me lead you. It’s simple.” He gave a smile of encouragement.

  Once more she was warmed by his caressing eyes, oblivious to the startled gasps echoing throughout the ballroom as they began to dance. He swept her so easily into the steps, and they moved like skaters on ice, smoothly, gently, and all the while their gazes locked, held.

  Erin wondered if the excited tremors within were mirrored on her face for everyone to see. Her cheeks felt so warm, flushed, and she became mesmerized by the tender moment. It was as though she were drowning in his embrace, and she closed her eyes and let the magic take her away, to a world where the music of violins enticed butterflies to dance on the night wind, and amid the splendor, there was the fragrance of roses forever.

  Arlene’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she watched her daughter dancing so scandalously with the handsome and very wealthy Ryan Youngblood. It was obvious to her he was quite smitten. Yet she’d heard his mother had arranged his engagement to Ermine Coley, so she was puzzled as to why he was even in attendance. Well, she wasn’t going to be concerned about that, because the truth was she couldn’t ask for a better husband for Erin. True, Ryan had the reputation of being something of a rogue where the ladies were concerned, and there was speculation as to why he’d stayed away in France so long after the war instead of coming home. Some said he didn’t get along with his mother, and she could certainly understand that. Everyone knew Victoria Youngblood was haughty, arrogant, and extremely difficult to get along with. Pity Erin such a mother-in-law, but that was a small price to pay for marrying into such wealth. Her future would certainly be secured for all time.

  Opal Manning was also watching, but not in the same light as Arlene. She was getting angrier by the minute and whispered to her husband, “It’s disgusting! Licentious. Why, the nerve of them! Pairing off like that, touching so intimately. It’s unheard of.”

  Tyler Manning was trying very hard to keep from smiling, because he thought Erin Sterling was a rare and treasured beauty, and he envied any man who could hold her in his arms and dance with her in such a manner. Making his voice firm, he informed his wife, “Actually, it’s the new dance of Europe, I’ve heard. I don’t see anything licentious about it.”

  “Well, I do,” she said between gritted teeth, “and if you don’t march yourself over to those musicians this very instant and demand they play another reel, I’ll do it myself.”

  He knew she would, so, with a reluctant sigh, Tyler knew there was nothing to do but oblige her.

  Ryan saw their host heading for the musicians, knew the golden moment was about to come to an end, and that once it did, their intimate encounter was over for the evening. He held her tighter, and her eyes widened in surprise at his boldness. “I’m about to have to bid you good night,” he whispered, the play of a smile on his lips, “but if you feel what I’m feeling, Erin Sterling, we’ll be dancing together in our hearts till the next time we meet.”

  He released her at the same instant the music came to an abrupt halt. With a bow from the waist, he kissed her fingertips, then led her to the edge of the floor and took his leave.

  Erin stared after him and realized, with a thrilling rush, that she would indeed like to see him again.

  In fact, she would like that very much.

  Chapter Three

  Erin had no intention of telling her mother how Carolyn Manning had behaved. She was sure her mother had borne her own share of hurtful snubs and didn’t want to add to them. However, as soon as they were in the carriage and on their way home, it was obvious their less than cordial welcome was the last thing on her mother’s mind.

  “I want to hear everything,” Arlene urged excitedly. “Ryan Youngblood comes from a very fine family. He’d be perfect for you. Handsome, too! And I hear he’s quite the charmer with the ladies.”

  Nonchalant, for she wasn’t about to let on just how impressed she really was, Erin said, “He’s nice. But there’s really nothing else to tell. We just had a dance, that’s all
.”

  “That’s all?” Arlene echoed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Everyone was shocked over that intimate dance you were doing, just the two of you. But tell me, did he ask if he could call on you?”

  Erin shook her head.

  “Then what were you talking about while you were dancing? He was saying something to you just before Tyler Manning made the musicians change to a reel, wasn’t he? He seemed quite taken with you, too. I recognized that look,” she added with a nostalgic smile. “It’s the same way your father used to look at me. So surely he said something about seeing you again.”

  Erin wasn’t about to get her mother’s hopes up by confiding what Ryan had said in parting, because if he did indeed have a reputation for being a charmer with the ladies, then he was probably just trifling with her anyway. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mother”—she reached to pat her hand in comfort—“but we just made polite conversation.”

  Arlene shook her head, nonplussed. She considered herself gifted at judging people’s reactions, and she would’ve sworn that Ryan Youngblood had been awed by Erin and would indeed come calling. In fact, he was her best hope that the entire evening hadn’t been for naught. The other young men were, no doubt, still tied to their mothers’ apron strings, would court the young lady their family chose and approved. Ryan, she’d heard, was something of a maverick, a rebel, and if he took a fancy to Erin, his betrothal to Ermine Coley would be forgotten as quickly as last Sunday’s sermon, especially since it wasn’t his idea in the first place. Ermine just didn’t seem to be the kind of girl who would normally catch his eye. Oh, she was pretty, but so were birthday cakes, and once past the frosting, nobody cared about the cake beneath. Erin, on the other hand, was not only extremely beautiful, she was also intelligent, witty, fun-loving, and full of life. A man as worldly and sophisticated as Ryan would surely appreciate those attributes in a woman.