Deirdre's True Desire

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Deirdre's True Desire Page 20

by Heather McCorkle


  The man did not know whom he was fooling with.

  “Pardon me, Mr. Ainsworth, but where I am from, ’tis not appropriate to dance this close,” she said.

  Ainsworth grinned. “Welcome to California.”

  If he thought she’d lower herself to allowing him to grope her just to win his favor and sway his intentions, he was daft. She returned his grin, pouring all of her irritation into the look. “Yes, well, you know what they say; you can take the lass out of New York, but you can’t take New York out of the lass.” At the next turn of the dance she took a huge step back and attempted to lock her arm.

  His hand clamped tighter on hers and with a yank, he spun her back into his embrace. After their chests collided, he slid his arm around her, but took a step back to a proper distance. He barely missed a beat of the dance steps. Over his shoulder, Deirdre saw Kinan set his drink on a side table and start in her direction. She shook her head at him. He stopped, but looked poised to leap. The idea of a knight in shining armor wasn’t something she was opposed to, but if he stepped in, this encounter with Ainsworth would be unsalvageable.

  Ainsworth sighed, a heavy, frustrated sound. “My apologies,” he said with absolutely no sincerity. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. It has merely been too long since I’ve danced with a beautiful woman.” The way he cringed when he said “foot” made her suppress a smile.

  Eyes widening, she feigned shock. “Really? But, Mr. Ainsworth, surely a wealthy, powerful man such as yourself would be the most sought-after bachelor in all of Goldenvale.”

  He shrugged as his eyes roamed the room. “True. But the women here aren’t exactly to my taste. No one has turned my head since my Catherine died.” The genuine sound of pain in his voice surprised her. She was about to offer her condolences when he went on. “Until now.” Lust turned the words into something dark and foreboding.

  Deirdre blinked several times and cleared her throat before she could answer. “Yes, well, losing one’s spouse is a traumatic thing that takes time to recover from.” She hoped that would be sufficient to lay the groundwork for a response to what she feared might come out of his mouth next.

  “Yes, but eventually we must. In that recovery may lie the answer to both of our problems,” he said.

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow you,” she said in an effort to delay him.

  His eyes pinched together. “Don’t be coy, Mrs. Quinn, you are far too intelligent for that. It demeans you.”

  Refusing to justify that with a response, she merely returned his glare. He tried to pull her close again, but this time she was ready and kept her elbow locked. The strength in his cold hands made it clear he could overpower her, but if he did he would make a scene. She held both her breath and her ground in hopes that he wasn’t willing to do so. Instead of overpowering her, he leaned in close.

  She could smell the sickly sweet whiskey on his breath as he demanded, “Marry me.”

  Though she’d been expecting it, the proposal still made her stomach heave. When she didn’t respond for several steps, he went on. “Such an arrangement would benefit us both. I am wealthy and powerful, as you pointed out, a good match for a woman trying to find her place in a strange town.”

  Deirdre had to unclench her jaw to answer. “Mutually beneficial, you say. How, precisely, do you see yourself benefiting from this…arrangement?”

  His grin turned smug. “As your husband, I will have the access to the creek that I seek, via the land I obtain through you. To show my benevolence, I will give up my efforts to…convince your friends to give up their claim to their land.”

  Fury burned through her, turning the snappy response she had in mind to ash—which was all well and good, considering how many unladylike curses had been included in it.

  Ainsworth nodded as if her silence pleased him. “No need to answer now. In fact, I think it’s best you think on it, it being a decision that could change your life, and the lives of your friends.”

  She nodded, not because she would consider it, but because she wanted to buy a bit of time while he thought she was. No easy feat, with how much anger roared through her at the moment. The time to throw another card on the table had come.

  “Another option may be for you to purchase my land,” she said. She wouldn’t sell, but she wanted him to think she would. Either that, or consideration and preparation for a marriage proposal would take time, time in which they could secretly finish building.

  Ainsworth’s wickedly joyful laughter startled her so much she jumped and nearly missed a step in the dance. Taking advantage of that surprise, he pulled her against him again. “Why would I buy what I can take? By summer of next year, your lands will be mine, one way or another,” he whispered in her ear.

  Frightening as the man—and his threats—could be, Deirdre saw it for the bluff it was. If he had been capable of taking her land, he would have done it already. Each attempt had ended in failure. By proposing to her, he merely showed his hand, revealing how desperate he was becoming.

  The music stopped and she stepped away so abruptly she nearly turned an ankle. She turned the stumble into a low curtsy in which she dipped her head to hide the flash of fear that shot through her. Once she had her emotions under control, she looked up at him with a carefully placed smile. “Thank you for the dance, and the proposition, Mr. Ainsworth. I will give your words extensive thought,” she said in the most formal tone she could muster. Her voice sounded strained to her ears, but she was glad it didn’t quiver.

  He raised the hand of hers he still clutched and bent over it, using the motion to pull her close again. “See that you do, for both your sake, and that of your friends,” he whispered.

  He kissed the back of her hand, staring hard at her all the while. Even through her satin gloves his lips felt cold. Never had she been so happy that propriety and fashion required a lady to wear gloves for such an event. She slid her hand free and stepped back. The music started up again and couples began to dance around them. Inclining his head to her, Ainsworth took several steps back and melted into the crowd. A quick glance around revealed many sympathetic eyes on her. Off to her right, Cat and Rick danced, drowning in each other’s gazes. They hadn’t witnessed any part of her dance with Ainsworth.

  Deirdre let out a relieved breath and started to make her way toward the kitchen door. She took a slight detour toward the fireplace. There she paused, peeled her gloves from her hands, and tossed them into the crackling orange flames. Thank the saints he hadn’t actually touched her skin. Near the kitchen door, she encountered Sadie chatting with a group of ladies. She caught enough of the conversation to know they were praising her for her dress designs. By the time Sadie looked her way, Deirdre had fixed a delighted look on her face.

  Wise to her, Sadie asked, “Is everything all right?”

  “Of course, don’t let me interrupt. I’m merely going to check and see if the kitchen has any more of those delicious wraps Cat is asking for. ’Tis wonderful to see you ladies, do enjoy the party,” she said.

  They offered kind words of praise for the decorations, spirits, and food before she was able to slip away. Once inside the kitchen, she closed the door behind her, leaned against it, and closed her eyes. Tears started to sting behind her lids. She pushed away from the door and stood tall. A few of the kitchen help labored nearby over the cutting board, giving her questioning looks. Maria stepped forward and handed her a wineglass. Relief coursed through her the moment her fingers wrapped around the stem.

  “Thank you,” she told her.

  She scarcely heard her reply as she went for the back door. If she didn’t get some air, she was going to need a fainting couch, and that was not how she wanted to end this evening. Cool air rushed around her as she opened the door and stepped outside. It drained away the flush of anxiety and allowed her to breathe again. The air soothed her body and calmed her mind.

 
Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she stepped out onto the cobblestone patio. Moonlight shone through the slats of the pergola overhead. She followed the lighted stripes out to a support beam and leaned against it. Frost reflected the light of the moon, revealing the English-style garden of evergreen bushes and bare planting beds stretched out before her. Here and there the trunks and branches of bare trees stretched up and out. They had been so busy building their homes, she had yet to make it out here. The frosty, sleeping garden tugged at her heart. She hoped to one day have one very much like it. If Ainsworth had his way, that would never happen. Would the heartless bastard actually spare her friends’ lands if she married him? Unlikely.

  The sound of leather soles on cobbles stirred dread in her and made her turn. The moon revealed a tall, gray-haired man approaching from within the garden. He held a cloak in his hands. “Frightfully cold this night, senorita, please accept this,” he said in a thick Hispanic accent.

  Smiling, she nodded and allowed him to drape the cloak around her shoulders. She sighed as she settled into its warmth. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  While fine, his clothing wasn’t quite formal enough for a party, and she didn’t recall seeing him among the guests. “I apologize, but I don’t recall meeting you when you arrived. I’m Deirdre Quinn,” she said.

  He inclined his head deep enough to be considered a bow. “I am Felipe.”

  “Just Felipe?”

  His cheeks dimpled with a big grin. “The rest, most Americans find too difficult to say.”

  “Well, ’tis a pleasure to meet you, Felipe. I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening. Are you staying at the inn?”

  “Tonight only.” He gestured to a small table with chairs at it. “Sit with me, if you like.”

  “Thank you, I would like that very much.”

  He offered her his arm. Without a second thought, she accepted and allowed him to lead her to the table despite it being in the shadows. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the man relaxed her. Then again, after her encounter with Ainsworth, the company of nearly any other man would seem relaxing. Felipe pulled out a chair for her.

  “Where are you from, Felipe?”

  “Ensenada.”

  Intrigue began to push away the tendrils of fear Ainsworth’s encounter had wrapped around her. “You’ve traveled so far! Surely you must stay longer than one night. If it’s a matter of room, my friends and I could share a room so one is available for you. We wouldn’t mind at all,” she said.

  Hands up, he shook his head. “No, no, not necessary. I am staying at original, how do you say…homestead?”

  That made her set her wineglass down. “You mean the original house the O’Learys built on this property?”

  Pride filled his eyes. “Yes, I helped build it.”

  That explained why Kinan would let him stay there. But, that had to mean he was either a worker who had helped in the construction, or Kinan’s grandfather. “And you’re here to visit Kinan?” She kept her tone light, casual. Or at least, she hoped that was how it sounded.

  The man’s chest puffed out. “Yes, for the holiday. Usually more come, but the cold was too much for them. But young, I am not. How many winters I have left, who knows? So I come visit.”

  Certainly the help wouldn’t come back so far to visit, not even a long-time family servant. They wouldn’t have the coin to pay for passage on a ship, not even such a short journey. Which meant Kinan had some rather big news he had yet to tell her. A Hispanic grandfather. It would explain so much; his travels, his interest in Mayan culture. But was she imagining intrigue where it might not exist? Hoping to make the man more mysterious? Every fiber of her wanted to press Felipe about it.

  She took a long drink of wine to still her tongue and hold back the urge. Pressing this foreign gentleman who was likely still weary from his travels wouldn’t be right. No. If Kinan had a secret, he was the one who needed to tell her. And she understood why he would hesitate to divulge such information. High society looked down on certain mixings of blood, and this would definitely qualify as one of them. None of that meant she couldn’t divulge her curiosity in other matters.

  “The cottage is a very unique build. The earthen walls are so beautiful, like flowing brick,” she said.

  “Adobe, we call it.”

  “Adobe. How do you make it?”

  Elbows on the table, fingers steepled together, Felipe delved into an in-depth description of the process. Deirdre hung on each word. She prompted him to go on in places and asked many questions. Not only did the process fascinate her, but Felipe was funny and kind.

  Light and music suddenly poured out of the door to the kitchen as it opened. Irritation—and an unhealthy dose of fear—surged back up in Deirdre. Ainsworth wouldn’t dare follow her out here, would he?

  But the tall, handsomely cut figure silhouetted by the light of the kitchen certainly wasn’t Ainsworth. The wooden legs of Deirdre’s chair scraped against the cobblestones as she stood swiftly. Felipe rose as well. “Kinan,” she said, feeling a bit as if she’d been caught at something.

  From this distance, she couldn’t make out his expression due to the shadows, but his rigid posture told her much.

  “Deirdre, there you are. I became worried when I heard you left after dancing with Ainsworth. Are you all right?” he asked in a guarded tone.

  “Quite, thank you. I needed some air after dealing with that man. Felipe here has lifted my spirits considerably with interesting conversation.” She couldn’t help but tease him a bit by making him wonder what that conversation might be.

  Kinan cleared his throat and finally managed to get out, “Um, well, I’m glad to hear it. Thank you, Felipe.” He took a few steps out onto the cobbled patio. “The last dance is approaching and I thought you might like to show a strong front by returning to dance again. But,” he paused. “I understand if you don’t feel up to it, and I can make up a tale of why you can’t return, if needed.” The fear and lack of confidence in his tone was so unlike him, and so deep, that it made her sick with guilt.

  She smoothed her skirts and hid a smile. “I feel hale and hearty, and I wouldn’t want to miss our dance together.”

  Kinan’s shoulders pulled back and she thought she saw him smile, though it was hard to tell in the shadows.

  Turning to Felipe, she found him regarding her with wide eyes, the hint of a grin pulling at his lips. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Felipe,” she said.

  He bowed deeply to her. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  “I look forward to chatting with you again,” she said.

  “And I with you.”

  When she turned back around, Kinan waited with an elbow extended. She walked to his side and looped her arm through his. His eyes shot open wide for a brief moment before he covered the startled look with a few rapid blinks. Part of her delighted in the fact that she had surprised him, and part became saddened by it. What kind of judgment and rejection had he been subjected to that would cause such a reaction? But then, perhaps she read too much into his reaction and assumed things that were not, in fact, so. Time would tell, and hopefully, so would he.

  They entered the ballroom just as the music for the slow waltz started up. No one stared openly, but Deirdre felt the weight of everyone’s gaze no matter how indirect. At least the conversation with Felipe had renewed her spirit and Kinan’s presence at her side fed her strength. She managed an easy smile.

  Her breath caught as Kinan took her bare hand in his and swept her out on the dance floor. His lack of concern over everyone seeing them touch bare hands stimulated her as much as the contact. So gentle and supportive was his touch that she felt like she was floating. They swayed and spun in slow patterns. While his movements were light and graceful, his pinched expression and guarded eyes made it clear he couldn’t relax. Perhaps he wasn�
�t as unconcerned about the impropriety of no gloves as she first thought. Deirdre could take his discomfort no longer. She broke the rigid frame that held them apart and moved in closer.

  “Intimacy,” she whispered.

  Wide eyes blinking, he said, “Pardon?”

  “’Tis what has held me back from you.” A half-truth, but as good a place as any to start.

  Using the next turn of the dance, she stayed close. “My next husband must be a nontraditional man who allows me to be who I am, and part of that is being an adventurous lover,” she whispered.

  The pinched looked between his brows and around his eyes smoothed out. “Ah.” The sound was filled with understanding, and interest.

  “And I must be sure before I wed him,” she said.

  His brows rose high. “Oh.”

  Arms relaxing, he allowed her to move even closer, but he smiled mutely.

  “Your turn,” she prompted.

  Clouds of confusion paled the excitement in his eyes. “Pardon?”

  She laughed. “To tell me what has held you back, because I fear something has.”

  Four steps more to the dance passed before he answered. “Felipe is my grandfather. My mother is Hispanic. I didn’t want to pursue a courtship with you until I told you, but I couldn’t bring myself to.” He looked hard at her for a moment. “You figured that out when you met him, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  “And still you danced with me.” His mouth remained open, but before he could say more, the music came to an end. Stepping back, he bowed to her. “You’re a wonderful dancer, it was a pleasure. I would like to continue our conversation at a later time—if you’re open to doing so, that is.”

  During her curtsy, she kept her eyes locked on his, letting him feel the heat of her gaze. “Very much so. Tonight perhaps, after the guests have left?” she asked in a suggestive tone.

  Even through his chestnut skin tone his blush came through. He lifted her hand, seemed to remember at the last moment she wasn’t wearing gloves, then slowly released it. The brush of his fingers against her palm made her pelvic muscles clench. The indecency of such a sensation experienced in the midst of so many people added an extra thrill to it. Instinct, desire, she wasn’t sure which, made her take a step toward him. He moved toward her as well, but couples began to disperse all around them and suddenly Deirdre found herself in the middle of a group of excited women. A tide of well-wishers and tipsy revelers swept Kinan away.

 

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