She paused to sigh dramatically, then flashed a taunting grin. “But then again, you still believe in chaperones!”
Dani’s expression did not change. Cool, unmoved, she challenged, “You seem to know a lot about him, Lily. Tell me, could you be one of the fools you’re talking about?”
Lily’s eyes narrowed, darkened with indignation. When she became Mrs. John Travis Coltrane, everyone in this haughty family would have to treat her with respect. No longer would she be subjected to such hostility. With a defiant lift of her chin, she snapped, “Everyone knows about that man, the way he makes women fall at his feet, then kicks them aside so callously when he sees another he likes better. I’ve never met him, but I certainly know his reputation.”
Dani sighed in a display of boredom with the conversation. “Well, thanks for your concern, but I can handle my own affairs…and prefer to do so.” She turned toward the window. The girl was insufferable. Colt could not be so stupid as to become seriously involved with her or fall in love, God forbid.
Then she spotted Drake coming up the walk and, moving quickly, went to the door. With feigned regret, she said, “Sorry I can’t entertain you any longer, Lily, but my guest has arrived. I suppose you and Colt will be joining us for drinks later?”
“Of course,” Lily said, and, with a swish, moved past her and down the hall to her own suite. She did not stay there. She waited until Dani had had time to start down the stairs, then scurried to stand in the shadows of the second-floor landing and watch.
Dani waved Cletus away to admit Drake herself. Lily observed their warm embrace, saw him give her a bouquet of roses, watched her kiss him in gratitude.
Lily decided she had yet another reason to hate Dani Coltrane. She was pretty, rich, had everything in the world she wanted, and now it seemed from the way she and Drakar were looking at each other that she had him as well.
She bristled at the sight, knew that if she weren’t in such dire financial straits, she could change all that. Colt was extremely handsome in his own right, and she found him charming, enjoyable, but Drakar, the strikingly good-looking, enigmatic Russian, was legend. The woman who became his wife would be envied by all.
She watched them go into the parlor, and she opened and closed her fists in frustration. Returning to her room, she tossed aside the sweet blue dress she’d chosen earlier with a desire to look demure and innocent. Instead she put on a seductive gown of black velvet. It dipped low, displaying the creamy whiteness of her perfectly sculptured breasts. Clinging tightly to her small waist, it dropped straight to the floor. She adored the daring slit she’d had fashioned on the side, which gave a glimpse of her long, shapely legs. Lily would fly to win over Drakar tonight. Maybe he would be so captivated he would just whisk her away from Colt and want her for himself on a permanent basis. A fantasy, perhaps, but she could afford to indulge herself for one evening, at least. A prize like Drakar was certainly worth entering the contest.
She generously applied the expensive perfume she’d wheedled the old Duke into buying for her. If something didn’t happen soon, such luxuries would be a thing of the past.
She took one last look in the mirror, then, with a complacent smile, decided she was her usual ravishingly beautiful self.
It was going to be a very interesting evening.
And this thought made her happy.
Everyone was gathered in what Travis proudly referred to as “his” parlor. He much preferred it to the delicate pink-and-white “tea” room that Kitty used for her lady friends.
A cozy fire crackled in the grate of the marble-tiled fireplace. A Russian mahogany and ormolu sofa table dominated the room, around which a suite of Adamesque sofas and chairs were situated, each upholstered in the finest of imported Italian leathers. A Chinese scroll painting on silk complemented a pair of seventeenth-century Chinese lacquered sweetmeat boxes with mother-of-pearl inlay. A reproduction of Girardon’s bronze sculpture of Louis XIV perched on a glass pedestal, and a pair of bronze figures flanked the arched doors leading to a terrace beyond.
A butler stood by a glass-and-wrought-iron cart, ready to fulfill any drink request. Kitty and Travis had opted for champagne, and when Dani and Drake joined them, they requested the same.
Just as Lily approached the doorway leading into the parlor, Colt came rushing down the stairs behind her. Without a word, he drew her to one side, folded his arms around her, and kissed her long and deeply.
Lily responded, but only briefly. She did not want to be mussed. Pulling away, she mockingly chided, “Colt, whatever am I going to do with you? You seem to have only one thing on your mind.”
He laughed softly, continuing to hold her as he gazed down at her hungrily. “With a woman like you, what do you expect a man to do?”
She twisted away, truly agitated now as she smoothed her dress. “I expect him to behave himself when he’s about to take me in to socialize with his parents. Now come along.”
Colt caught her arm, pulled her close once more to fervently declare, “Later, we’re going to find time to be alone together.”
He was, Lily acknowledged smugly, becoming increasingly difficult to control. She would take him a little further in their lovemaking each time they were alone, only to withdraw and leave him gasping. Soon, it would be time to demurely point out that their relationship had reached a point of no return. To have what he wanted, he would have to marry her. “I want your kisses and caresses more than you know, Colt…” She allowed her voice to trail off promisingly as her fingertips danced down his arm.
Quite confident of her charm and power over men, Lily held her head high and walked into the parlor to meet the notorious swain—Drakar.
Travis and Drake rose when Lily entered, then Travis made the introductions. Lily acknowledged silently that the handsome Russian found her lovely, for his eyes held the same look every other man had for her. She accepted a glass of champagne, sat down primly next to Colt, who had followed her in.
After a few minutes of polite small talk, the topic of conversation turned to the subject all of France, and Europe as well, was talking about.
General Georges Boulanger had committed suicide.
Boulanger had once been France’s minister of war. A political figure, he had led a brief, but influential, authoritarian movement that threatened to topple the Third Republic in the 1880s.
“I knew the man well. He was quite controversial,” Travis remarked.
Drake nodded. He knew how Boulanger had headed the “revanche” movement against German occupation of Alsace-Lorraine, after the fall of Freycinet in December of 1886. Fearing a new war, the government of Maurice Rouvier had expelled Boulanger as war minister. However, Boulanger’s clandestine relations with leftists, monarchists, and Bonapartists won him the election to the Chamber of Deputies in 1888. He was then regarded as a threat to the government and was ousted from the army. Eventually, in April of 1829, he had left quietly for Brussels, was tried in absentia for treason, banished in August of the same year. Consequently, his popularity plummeted. Elections were catastrophic for his followers. The next year, 1890, saw him abandoned totally by the royalists and by year’s end, he had been deserted by his friends.
“I understand it was the final blow when his mistress, Marguerite, Vicomtesse de Bonnemain, died two months ago. He killed himself beside her grave,” Drake said.
Lily cooed, “Oh, how romantic. That meant he really and truly loved her. It’s a shame they never married…”
Drake pressed his tongue in his cheek to suppress the desire to burst out laughing. He would have expected such a melodramatic remark from the fortune-hunting Lily Deauneve. He had recognized her the instant she walked into the room, for she had been wearing the same provocative gown the last time he’d seen her—swishing across the ballroom of a London hotel, long, shapely legs displayed as she clung adoringly to the arm of the pompous old reprobate, the Duke of Seville. Someone had told him that night that Lily was the niece of Vinsandt Deauneve, w
ho had recently lost almost his entire fortune. His niece, not about to be relegated to the life of the have-nots after being one of the “haves”, had promptly latched on to the rich, lecherous Duke, who did not care what it cost to have the self-exultation of being with a beautiful young woman. It had been a short while later when Drake heard some gents laughing about how the Duke’s latest flue de joie had walked out on him, taking some of his money with her.
Travis continued to talk about Boulanger’s suicide, and Drake pretended to listen but all the while he was studying Lily. She might not remember him being at the ribald party, for he had not tarried long. But he remembered her, and it was not hard to figure out what she was doing here. Dani had related to him her tale of woe, and he was convinced it was a lie, designed to engender sympathy. From the way Colt was looking at her, her scheme was obviously working.
But was any of it his business? His top priority was supposed to be getting his hands on that painting. Bad enough Dani had become such an obstacle, provoking feelings and emotions he’d vowed never to experience for any woman. Certainly, he had enough concerns of his own for the moment without becoming involved with anyone else’s affairs.
Finally, they adjourned to the dining room. Two walls were covered in mirrors while upon the others there were finely painted panels, each depicting a month, with the corresponding sign of the zodiac at the top and an allegorical figure of a God in the center. These were then surrounded by symbols of the stars and sciences and associated animals.
Dominating the room was a crystal-and-gold chandelier with over two thousand hand-carved prisms. Beneath was an imposing Belgian Regence table of carved marble, with Portuguese rococo armchairs placed around it.
Kitty noticed Lily admiring the table setting and could not resist proudly explaining that the silverware had been crafted out of ore from their silver mine back in Nevada.
They enjoyed a delicious meal of roast suckling pig, a fricassee of squid, peppers, and mushrooms, and finished with a strawberry sorbet.
Champagne flowed freely, along with red and white wine. Conversation was pleasant, unstrained, until Dani’s planned trip to Austria came up and she announced that she intended to travel alone.
Travis raised an eyebrow, exchanged a thunderous look with Kitty, then quietly echoed, “Alone?”
Dani did not glance up, merely continued to twirl her spoon in the bowl of sorbet. “There’s no one to go with me. Besides, I prefer to travel alone.”
“It’s unthinkable that you’d even want to go by yourself, Dani,” Travis stated. “I’ll hire someone to accompany you.”
She felt mortified. In front of Drake, he was treating her like a child, and when she looked up to see that Lily was grinning maliciously, something snapped. “Father, I am a grown woman,” she cried indignantly, “and I have my own business to look after. I’ll not have you hire a…a nanny for me!”
Travis’s eyes were stormy. “As long as you put your feet under my table, Daniella, you’ll do as I say!”
She glared at him. Oh, she loved him so very, very much, regretted each and every day they’d ever been apart all those precious growing-up years, but the time had come for her to spread her wings. It was far too late for him to play the role of guiding father, and she, dutiful daughter. “I’m sorry,” she said evenly, tightly, “I don’t mean to hurt you, but I intend to live my own life the way I choose. Perhaps it’s best,” she added, lower lip quivering slightly, “that I get my own table…”
She rose, faced him defiantly.
Colt shifted uncomfortably in his chair, silently fuming. Why did this have to happen tonight? He’d wanted everything nice and pleasant for Lily’s sake. She had enough problems of her own without being witness to family tension.
Drake sat in stony silence, also regretting the dispute.
Lily was enjoying the whole thing, eyes glittering as she looked from Travis to Dani, waiting for further explosion.
Kitty bit her lip thoughtfully. She feared Travis’s temper, hated what was happening at the dinner table, in front of guests, but decided against interfering. The two were going to have to resolve the problem between them, but dear God, she prayed they would wait and do so in private.
Slowly, Travis rose from his chair, squeezing his napkin into a tight ball and flinging it upon his plate. With gray eyes the color of cold steel, he stared at his daughter. “We will,” he promised frostily, “discuss this later.’’
Dani nodded her head in quick, conciliatory jerks, then, taking a deep breath, murmured, “Please excuse me…” and hurried from the table.
Travis started to call after her, but Kitty stopped him with a pleading look. It was best Dani have some time alone, and she called softly after her, “We’ll have brandy and coffee in the parlor later. Please join us.”
Dani kept on going, heading straight for the hallway that would take her to the rear of the house and the sanctity of the gardens and the night beyond.
Abruptly, Drake stood, mumbled his own excuses, and hurried after Dani.
Lily shook her head in mock sympathy, turned to Travis and declared, “I’m sorry all this happened, Mr. Coltrane, but poor Dani, I guess I know how she feels. My own nanny took sick just before I was to leave London to come here, and there was nothing I could do but go on alone. Still, I felt there was truly nothing wrong with it. I mean…” She paused, smiled at Kitty, then Colt. “We are living in modern times now. It isn’t like it used to be.”
Colt groaned inwardly. Lily was, he’d discovered, not one to keep her opinions to herself, but now was not the time for her to interfere. He reached out and touched her arm gently, whispered, “Lily.”
She shrugged him away. “I see nothing wrong with her going to Austria alone, just like I see nothing wrong with Colt and I going to Spain.”
All eyes were upon her, and she knew at once she might have gone too far in making such an announcement. The Coltranes were frozen in shock, and Colt looked both embarrassed and angry. Well, so what? Lily thought defiantly. They would have to be told sooner or later. Maybe her pronouncement would hurry along Colt’s proposal. He could just tell his parents they were engaged, and there was nothing so scandalous about engaged couples traveling together. Maybe he would even want to marry her right away and take her to Spain on their honeymoon.
“I think you and I will have our brandy in my study, Colt,” Travis said and left the room.
Colt followed without a glance in Lily’s direction.
Lily gave her golden curls a toss, shrugged, and said, “Well, Mrs. Coltrane, I suppose we can just have our coffee right here,” she suggested brightly.
Kitty got to her feet. She’d had enough of the arrogant young woman for one night. Not caring whether she seemed rude, she coldly declared, “I think the evening has ended. Good night.”
And suddenly Lily found herself in a most unexpected and unwanted position: she was all alone.
Chapter Thirteen
“Are you having a private tantrum, or can anyone join in?”
Out in the garden, Drake sat down beside Dani on a stone bench. Without waiting for her answer, he went on. “It’s unfortunate things blew up back there, but don’t be too angry with your father. He was just playing the role of concerned parent. It isn’t that safe for young women to travel around by themselves, especially beautiful and rich young women,” he added pointedly.
Dani laughed brittly. “What am I supposed to do? Hide behind locked doors the rest of my life, never go anywhere? Never have the freedom to live my life the way I choose? No thank you. I’ll take my chances. I’ll start by carrying a pistol in my purse, and—”
His sudden burst of laughter caused her to fall into an angry silence, then she said, “I don’t see anything so funny about protecting myself.”
He reached to clasp her hand, but she jerked away. “Oh, Dani, I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to make you angrier than you already are. It’s just that the thought of a woman like you toting a gun in her purse
strikes me as funny.”
She glared at him. “Well, it won’t be so funny when I take it out and shoot somebody who tries to harm me.”
He was suddenly grim. “No, I suppose not. But why not just hire a bodyguard? That’s what rich women normally do. Then you can come and go as you please, and your family won’t worry.”
She thought a moment. That was an idea to be considered, but she had other concerns now. Her remark made in anger about getting a place of her own struck her as quite appealing. It would be fun, decorating it the way she wanted, having her own socials, having absolute privacy and freedom of choice.
“You can hire me, pretty lady,” Drake said, intruding on her thoughts.
Dani looked at him, so handsome, so charming, and the sound of his warm, husky voice, the way he was gazing at her, made delicious tremors ripple through her body.
“Hire you?” she whispered, sensing that he was about to take her in his arms. “But then who would protect me from you?”
He did take her in his arms, gathering her so close she could feel his breath upon her face. As he spoke, he lowered his lips to brush against hers ever so lightly, ever so tantalizingly. “No one can protect you,” he gently warned. “I want to devour you…I want to take you to places you’ve never been before. I want to strip you naked and cover your flesh with kisses, and I want to hear you pray that no one will rescue you.”
He kissed her, his tongue exploring her own, tantalizing, teasing. He moved a hand to trail down her face gently and cupped her chin to hold her immobile against his attack upon her mouth. Then nimble fingers danced down her throat, at last moving to her breasts, to squeeze and knead each between exploring fingers.
Dani stirred, moaned, knew she should resist, pull away, but admittedly did not want to. She was enjoying each second of the sheer ecstasy he was evoking within her. She relished the rolling, rumbling of emotions gone wild, thrilled to the way thunder seemed to be exploding in her belly as secret, struggling undulations birthed in her loins. She could feel her nipples becoming cherry-pit taut beneath his eager fingertips.
Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 Page 13
