Dare To Love (18 page)

She kept staring at Gwendolyn, which made her
feel uncomfortable. Just then, Devin returned with two glasses of
bubbly champagne. Gwendolyn stood in front of Devin, her back
towards the woman and quietly voiced, “Devin, who’s that
woman?”

Devin leaned in, bent his head down to
Gwendolyn’s obvious confidentiality and asked, “Which one?”

“The lady who keeps shooting daggers at
me.”

Devin eyed Mrs. Carmichael barely a few feet
away. He acknowledged her presence by bowing his head slightly,
scanning her attire from toe to tip, and then saying adieu with an
agreeable smirk. He had enjoyed her company once or twice a few
years back, but knew Thomas had a rather lengthy engagement with
the avid Mrs. Carmichael. “The widow, Mrs. Carmichael, no doubt she
came here to get a good look at my sister.” “Your sister? Whatever
for?”

Devin closed his mouth, he said too much.
“Katrina caught Thomas. She is probably green with envy.”

Gwendolyn turned around again and continued
to sip her champagne. Out on the dance floor, happy couples waltzed
away. She spotted Katrina standing alone across the ballroom and
noticed her despondency. Her shoulders slumped, her hand covered
her mouth and she gave the impression that she was on the verge of
tears. “Speaking of your sister.”

Devin whipped his head around and pinpointed
Katrina. He observed her stance and brotherly alarm skyrocketed. He
immediately walked forward, and then remembered he was with
Gwendolyn. “You’ll excuse me?”

“Yes, of course, go.”

Gwendolyn eyed Devin stride over to his
sister and embraced her shoulders. They exchanged words, and then
Devin held out his compassionate arm and escorted his sister onto
the dance floor. Gwendolyn decided to use this time to search her
thoughts when she stumbled upon a barrage of black and red ostrich
feathers.

“Look at her…look at how fortunate she is,”
the woman shrilly expressed. “Mrs. Carmichael by the way and you
are Thomas’ cousin?” After Thomas unexpectedly broke off their
affair, Catherine Carmichael went into seclusion. Depressed for
months, the only way she could climb out of her gloom was to bed
another man. And that’s just what she did, testing several in fact,
but no one else compared and she missed Thomas’ friendship more
than anything.

Gwendolyn took a long sip of her champagne,
“Yes,” she barely voiced, “Lady Hollinger.”

Catherine humpfed, a well used disguise. A
few years back, Thomas introduced his mistress succeeding her as
his supposed cousin as well. “Nice to make your acquaintance, I was
beginning to wonder about the mystery surrounding Thomas, his
family perishing at sea so many years ago. Simply tragic…nice to
see he found a relative to claim.”

Gwendolyn was taken-back. How did this woman
know his past? And she addressed Thomas so informally…by her tone,
intimately…good God, no. “Lady Hale will no doubt make a beautiful
bride, would you not agree?” Gwendolyn asked trying to provoke
further legitimacy.

“In addition to being a well pleasured
woman.”

Gwendolyn raised her eyebrows. She had been
correct. Mrs. Carmichael had been one of Thomas’ mistresses? And
why was she looking at her so impishly…what was she trying to
imply? “Were you and he?”

Mrs. Carmichael lowered her eyes and raked in
Gwendolyn’s loveliness in emerald green, “But I thought everyone
knew of our liaison dear. Thomas had been my escort for many
years…he never mentioned it? The scoundrel. I am not surprised to
see so many of us here tonight. He has kept polite alliances with
all of us, you know. Gave every one of us a token of his parting
goodwill—his eternal gratitude. Friendship is very important to the
man, so do not allow him to break your heart! And if you are
waiting on him to show his devotion, you are in for a world of
disappointment. You are better off accepting what he has to give
and thank God he gave you fleeting interest. He is a cad through
and through, why else would he be flaunting any of us around? The
man has no conscience. He has never allowed himself to feel, or to
love, my guess he is probably not even in love with Lady Hale.”

Gwendolyn was stupefied. Mrs. Carmichael
thought she was his mistress? What a laugh, but why did his past
sting so brutally? How many mistresses did he have? Or had for that
matter? Gwendolyn’s head began to spin around and around,
pinpointing every woman Mrs. Carmichael seemed to spot out. The
red-head in the blue gown, the brunette in yellow. Gwendolyn could
not take it anymore and decided to concentrate on the woman before
her. Why would Thomas court Mrs. Carmichael? She was mature, yes,
but uniquely diverse from Katrina’s obvious fresh beauty. Eyes of
hazel, pert nose…auburn hair… like her mothers, nearly the same
shade as hers. Another strange stab afflicted her disposition.
“Excuse me Mrs. Carmichael, but I feel a headache coming on.”

“Yes, of course, certainly.”

Gwendolyn hesitated, looked at her oddly, and
then quickly left the woman’s side.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Gwendolyn was alone now, inside the Roman
Room, admiring all the frescoes painted on the walls. Angels,
cherubs and Poseidon, the Greek God of the sea, all-playing
wistfully in an ocean full of ships.

Beginning to pace the scope, Gwendolyn began
to bite her fingernails. Thomas kissed her, and kissed her well.
Kissed Katrina. Kissed Mrs. Carmichael. Kissed many women. The
red-head in the blue gown, the brunette in yellow. Herself, a few,
a dozen, hundreds, oh bother! Damn that sexual magnetism! The devil
take it all! She wondered what Mrs. Carmichael got as her departing
gift?

Whipping her head around, Gwendolyn was
startled by the sight of a man slowly approaching. With her mind
being so preoccupied, she did not realize he had slipped in
unannounced. He looked familiar… and he was. Viscount Adam Tapps of
Moxley, a former beau. “Viscount Tapps, so nice to see you again,”
she smiled, extending out her hand. “I am alone here.”

The Viscount was still as handsome as ever.
He bowed, kissing her glove directly. A little taller than herself,
he had long, dark brown hair bordering his piercing brown stare.
Yes, he was staring, a rather concentrated glare. “I will only be a
moment…How are you, Lady Hollinger?”

Gwendolyn inhaled; she had forgotten how
intriguing he was. Why was she not interested in him before? Oh,
that’s right. “I am doing well Viscount Tapps, how are you?”

He encircled her, admiring her dress with his
gape, “You look remarkable. Still searching for a husband, I do
hope. I am quite available to take on the task.”

Gwendolyn blushed and stepped away from him,
so much trifling going on this evening; first Devin, then Thomas,
now him. “Hard to believe you never married.”

He grinned, and then turned away from her.
“Not so hard I suppose, I am quite finicky.”

Gwendolyn giggled, and Adam gazed down at her
lips as she did. She closed them instantly. “Silly to hear you
compare yourself to a feline.”

He guffawed himself, realizing what it
sounded like. He instantly remembered her humor and was smitten.
“No comparison, simply an observation…I have a specific preference
for a chosen mate.”

Gwendolyn’s mouth opened slightly, his
seduction was quite unique. She stood staring at him too now, until
the door closing whipped both their heads around.

“Am I intruding?”

Viscount Tapps eyed Thomas walking towards
them. His severe deliberation indicating that he was not the least
bit pleased. “Your Grace—I…I was just getting better acquainted
with your cousin here.”

“She is not my cousin, and you bloody well
know it—Adam.” Thomas and Adam go way back. They used to be school
chums, until Adam Tapps cheated on a test and blamed Thomas for
giving him the answers. Since that day, he had never trusted him
and there were even countless times after that incident that would
substantiate future mistrust. He knew that Gwendolyn was not his
cousin; Adam grew up in the same social circles as the Hollinger’s
and Drummond’s, but now resides in Hampshire. The only reason he
was invited this evening was because of Devin; he was one of
Devin’s benefactors.

Oh, Gwendolyn could not believe it, Thomas
had changed right before her very eyes, rapidly transforming into
some predatory animal, his glower was constricted—nearly brown with
opposition, his chest puffed up, his fists were even clenched at
the base of his legs. He did resemble a black panther; she
thought…a fierce possessive being. “He was just leaving, were you
not Viscount?”

“For the record, Thomas…I have known she was
alive even before you did, I just chose not to disclose that
information for purely selfish reasons,” Adam grinned, winking at
Gwendolyn, “I wanted to relish in your shock as I introduced her to
you as my wife.” Adam remained steady for a few more seconds then
turned on his heel when he noticed Thomas’ face turning purple. He
left without further ado. He knew Thomas was a better swordsman,
the better aim and did not want to be forced into something he
could never wake up from.

“What does he mean by wife—what was he
talking about?”

“He was a former beau of mine—”

“He was what?”

Gwendolyn noted his stunned looked. Even
though she knew it was not the time or place to divulge such
delicacies, she felt she needed to explain. Thomas made her feel
like she had been caught with a lover, but why? Oh God, it was no
use, this war of emotions going on inside her heart. “Did you
really think I would stay a widow forever, Thomas?”

“You mean you and him?”

Gwendolyn paused at the sight of him shaking
his head and heading out the door. “There were even several beaus
after him, all fighting for my hand.” His incredulous flight kept
steaming away. Had she injured him that much with her statement?
“Do not walk away from me!”

Thomas painstakingly remained at his exit a
few feet away; he was so upset with her. “This is easier to do than
to look at you right now, Gwendolyn.”

Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes, “Why you
conceited hypocrite! You cannot stand there jealous when I have met
your Mrs. Carmichael and have probably even conversed with
God-knows-who-else-you have-bedded in addition to be constantly
thrown together with your fiancée!”

Thomas stood still; a foreboding expression
embraced his face. So she met Mrs. Carmichael, good, then maybe
envy will turn Gwendolyn around. But why was she so concentrated on
the other women in his life? Or Katrina for that matter? He met her
accusation as a revelation. “Why, are you covetous of them?”

Gwendolyn guffawed and shook her head, “You
do not understand this do you? We both waited ten long years to
remarry. You obviously care for Katrina, otherwise you would have
not asked for her hand. I obviously care for Charles; otherwise I
would have not accepted his proposal.”

Just once, he wished she would make up her
mind. Disappointed once again, he remarked, “You slay me,
Gwendolyn, you really do. Go— stay, kiss me—run away…you make me
dizzy! You are just an excellent tease.”

Gwendolyn stared at the door slamming for a
moment and became enraged herself. She wanted to scream! She wanted
to throw things, but there was nothing in the room to shatter.
Huffing and puffing, she wandered to another part of the space and
tried to focus on the frescoes of angels on the plastered dome
ceiling above her. They were staring down at her with those
haunting black eyes of theirs and she wanted to throw something at
them too for being so bloody cheery.

Wringing her hands at the sides of her dress,
she began to shake them—they were tingling. Why did she feel the
need to rattle him so? He called her a tease…was she always one?
Which part should she have omitted? Should she have kept that part
a secret about the Viscount? Should she have not mentioned that he
was a former beau…or the part where several men tried for her hand?
She thought he was dead; she had to go on with her life. He thought
she was dead too, he had to do the same. She knew that a gorgeous
man like Thomas would not lack for female attention, and, oh God,
the thought of him lying down with another woman made her ill. Was
that why he was angry too? Did it make him feel sick as well with
the thought of another man touching her?

Startled by the door opening back up again,
Gwendolyn eyed an older gentlemen walking towards her. Oh no, not
again. She just wanted to be alone. He came in closer…yet nearer.
He looked familiar, but she could not quite pinpoint the name. It
was on the tip of her tongue. Oh, what was his name? “I am alone
here, sir.”

“Yes, I know,” he ominously let go.

Gwendolyn’s breath quickened realizing his
intention.

“Do you know who I am?”

Gwendolyn gulped and surveyed the man more
closely. His age, mid fifties, she guessed, his hair striped with
grey through a blondish brown. His eyes, blue, his face…yes, she
does know who he was. “Baron Huxton?”

“Yes, Lady Hollinger. I do apologize for
frightening you; it is just… that when I saw you across the room,
and then dancing in the ball room just now, I could not believe my
eyes. You look so much like…her.”