Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) (7 page)

A hot acid surged through Elisa, making her stomach churn. Her heart sank. She had dismissed Marianne’s comment about the maids’ whispered desires for Vaughn as petty gossip. Vaughn didn’t seem to be the sort who would dally with maids. She had not considered the possibility of another woman taking up Vaughn’s attention. Or worse, becoming his new obsession.

What irritated her even more was how handsome Vaughn looked tonight, dressed in a black suit and snowy white shirt and cravat that complimented his dark, exotic looks.

“There you are, my dear. I was getting ready to send Marianne up your way.” Rufus came to his feet, an uncustomary smile on his face. He appeared to be good at pretending when in the presence of titled friends.

She took her seat at Rufus’ side and looked up to find Vaughn still engaged in conversation with Natasha. The girl was pretty, with dark hair and a fresh complexion. Her prettiness was supported by an unstinting application of money and attention to her wardrobe. And Elisa had to admit the debutante had youth on her side. Her unsullied, just-budded perfection made Elisa feel used and discarded.

She laid her napkin across her lap, waved the wine decanter away and asked for water, puzzling over her jealous reaction to Vaughn talking to Natasha. She was forced to acknowledge another horrid fact about herself: she had enjoyed Vaughn’s attentions. Even though she had no intention of allowing him to press more than ardent words upon her, she had taken a secret delight in being the object of his powerful desire. It had been much, much too long since someone had flattered her by showing more than polite, superficial interest in her.

And she very much did not like that center of focus shifting from her!

It was pure folly, she knew, to be upset about such a natural occurrence. She had made it clear she would never respond to his advances, so she could not be angry when his attention roved elsewhere. She could not expect him to maintain a devotion that was unrequited, no matter how much she enjoyed the attention.

She glanced at the two young people, their heads together, whispering.

No, she did not like it!

Elisa turned her attention to the baron on her right, Natasha’s father. “Sir William, where is Lady Munroe this evening?”

Sir William patted her hand. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Caroline is a little under the weather—a headache—but she bid me tell you hello and assure you she would come calling as soon as she was feeling better.”

“Please be sure to tell her I’m hoping for her quick recovery.”

“Indeed, I shall.”

“William, what ever did you decide to do with the extra acreage I gave you?” Rufus asked, his chest puffing out with self-importance.

Elisa suppressed a sigh. In her short time here she had already learned that Rufus used favors like currency. Once he had done something for another, he considered that person to be indebted to him for life In those moments when her guilt and worry over Raymond’s absence were quieter than usual, she could see her situation with more clarity and it had occurred to her more than once that perhaps Rufus was using the same yardstick with her; that the impending marriage was another of his bargains. But then Rufus would show her a moment of tenderness or kindness, and she would become confused yet again about the reasons for Rufus’s rough courtship and proposal. He was a more complex person than he appeared to be.

Elisa gave up pretending to eat. She took a deep breath and sat back in her seat, doing everything she could to keep from staring at Vaughn, sitting across from her. It was torturous. Natasha’s laughter, as light as a bell, accompanied every one of Vaughn’s sentences, humorous or not. It grated on Elisa’s nerves.

She twisted her hands in her lap, feeling tension growing in her. She wanted to run from the room but could not, for it would later require explanations she could not give. She was forced to behave like the decorous lady of the manor, beaming approval upon the flirtation across the table from her just like Baron Munroe. What she really wanted to do was grab Vaughn’s lapels, shake him violently and take back his attention that way.

With each peal of Natasha’s carefully cultivated laugh, the tension in her twisted a little tighter.

Time passed. Slowly. Elisa picked at her food enough to prevent further questions regarding her behavior and tried to not eavesdrop on the low conversation across the table.

“Madam, Vaughn tells me you are an accomplished rider. How is it you never told us of this?”

Elisa glanced up at Natasha, who waited with a polite smile for her answer, her eyes glimmering, her flawless skin radiant under the light of the chandelier. She looked a little flushed and flustered. As well she might, if Vaughn was practicing the same intense, blunt conversational sallies on her as he had on Elisa the previous evening.

Elisa sought to turn the dangerous subject and the focus of the conversation, away from her. “Do you ride, dear?”

Natasha shrugged. “A little, though Mother tells me it is not proper to enjoy it too much.”

Proper. That was not something she had ever been accused of being. Well, perhaps at one time, when she was a young girl of Natasha’s age, desperately in love with a fiancé whose reputation had been deplorable. Her only sin had been loving a husband who had but one use for her—to get himself an heir. After Raymond’s birth, the only time he had slept with her had been when he’d had no one else at his disposal.

Her throat tightened. For a short time she had forgotten society felt she was not a proper woman, regardless of the truth. Now she found herself here, desperate for the attention of a man she could not have.
 
She was, indeed, the improper woman society had painted her to be.

She focused her gaze fiercely on the ivory damask of the tablecloth, fighting the need to look at him once more. Then she felt a soft pressure on the toe of her right slipper, which quickly moved to her ankle, then up the inside of her calf. Warm flesh was smoothing its away up her leg.

She looked up abruptly to find Vaughn watching her, the picture of complete innocence. His stockinged foot inched higher under her petticoats, against her pantalets. He was stroking the flesh of her inner thigh through the fine linen and her legs fell open without resistance.

He coughed and in so doing sank into his chair, while turning his complete attention to the young woman at his side.

Elisa couldn’t move. It was as though she were made of stone. She dared not move unless she destroy the moment. His toes crept ever closer to that part of her that had begun throbbing the second she’d realized it was his foot that slid against her leg.

She reached for the water glass, trying to disguise her sudden inattention to the conversation. She took a sip, nearly choking on it when Vaughn grew ever bolder. Her breath left her in a rush as his toe slipped between the edges of the opening of her pantlets.

The sides of his mouth curved into a devilish smile as he glanced in her direction, a dark brow lifted in silent challenge.

“Madam, will you be attending the ball?”

Elisa forced a smile. “Ball?” Her voice came out a squeak and Vaughn’s grin broadened.

“Yes, Mama is throwing a ball for my coming out, just shortly before I leave for London. Please say you’ll come.”

“Certainly, I’ll come.”

She heard Vaughn laugh under his breath. “I knew Elisa would not disappoint.”

Elisa realized with a cold shock she was allowing Vaughn the liberties that just a short while ago in her room she had promised herself she would not give him. So much for her resolve—she had been undone by the simple threat of Vaughn’s favors wandering elsewhere.

Remember Raymond
.

“So...you will be spending the season in London?” Elisa asked, pulling her chair back the slightest bit, causing Vaughn’s foot to fall from between her thighs. He would have to literally slip beneath the table to touch her now.

He sat up abruptly, releasing a heavy sigh, not even looking at Natasha, who was watching him intently, her lashes fluttering.

“I will be spending a season with my aunt.” Natasha barely glanced at Elisa as she answered her question. She looked back at Vaughn. “She lives near Hyde Park. I so hope that you can visit.” Then the girl turned her attention back to Elisa, though it was obvious the statement was directed at Vaughn.

Vaughn smiled softly at Natasha, his finger tracing the rim of his glass, which had been replenished only once during dinner. Elisa stared at his strong hand. His long, tapered finger as it lazily stroked the glass. God, what would it feel like to have those hands on her body.

She was shocked at the direction her thoughts had taken yet again. And he was watching her with a smile so wicked there was no misinterpreting it—right in front of his father and guests, no less.

She must stop this, here and now. She must!

Feeling Rufus’ stare all the way to her bones, she glanced over at him. His customary frown was in place as he looked from her, to his son, then to her once again.

Oh God. He knew...

Vaughn’s foot rubbed against hers and she jumped as though bitten.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rufus snapped.

Elisa cleared her throat, her mind spinning. “Marianne tightened my corset too much. It’s pinching me,” she said quietly.

“Perhaps you should loosen it,” Vaughn suggested, his voice lazy.

“Do you feel light-headed?” Natasha asked, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

“Actually—”

“Marianne should be scolded for having been so careless,” Rufus said, completely cutting her off. He took a deep, exasperated breath and stood. “Well, I’m about ready for my cigar. What do you say, Sir William, shall we all adjourn to the parlor?”

Elisa took a deep breath, stifling her resentment, as everyone around her stood up, her faintness instantly forgotten. Rufus was staring at her impatiently and she rose to her feet and took his arm. Natasha was on Vaughn’s arm, she noted, not her father’s
.

In the parlor they arranged themselves on the settees and couches as Natasha sat at the harp. Her light voice filled the room as her proud father watched with a wide smile on his face.

Vaughn paced behind them, as though he was too nervous to sit idly by and it unnerved her. She couldn’t see him, yet she could feel him. Wherever his foot had touched her, she burned still. Such a knowing touch…there was little doubt he would be a sensational lover—

Realizing her thoughts, she flinched as though she’d been pinched. She was truly sick.

Natasha finished her song. The Baron turned to Elisa and asked, “Madam, would you do me the honor of playing?”

Elisa glanced in Rufus’ direction and saw his head sat on his chest. Quiet snoring emanated from him.

“Of course, Sir William.” She stood and went to the piano. She noticed Vaughn stopped his pacing as she took a seat. She was uncertain about what to play. Yet, as though they had a life of their own, her fingers moved over the keys and the music that came to her was a simple, poignant melody of unrequited love she remembered from years before and had once loved. She had memorized the notes and now they came to her without hesitation, giving her heavy, aching heart momentary release.

She poured herself into the playing. Not once did she look at anyone, especially not the tall, dark man in the far corner, who watched her intently. She didn’t want to look at him, for she knew her feelings would be too easily read.

Tonight had been the longest night of her life. Tonight she learned that desire and the forbidden went hand in hand. She must have control over her feelings and actions. She must not, as Vaughn’s future stepmother, behave like a jealous lover, for she was not his lover, nor would she ever be.

In time he would marry someone like Natasha. A young woman who would give him lots of children. A woman who was not jaded from all she’d seen. A woman whose reputation was as pure as the driven snow. A woman who would have no idea what to do with a virile man like Vaughn.

An image come to her—of Vaughn walking up behind her and stilling her hands on the keys with a soft touch. His lips would sear their imprint on the nape of her neck, making her shiver and sigh. Then he would pick her up and lay her across the piano. He would make love to her, with his hands and mouth playing upon her, making her ache for more…

But that would never be.

She sighed and pressed out the last, throbbing chord of the tune, and grew still.

Silence surrounded her.

Finally, there was the patter of soft, solitary applause.

She turned to find Vaughn coming toward her, clapping gently. Then William and Natasha belatedly joined in the applause.

Rufus continued to snore.

Vaughn took her hands in his own. His touch was hot. His smile and the look in his eyes was for her alone. Had he understood what she had outpoured with each poignant note?

She sensed movement behind him and refocused to see Natasha was on her feet and quickly coming towards them. She was staring at Elisa’s hands enfolded in Vaughn’s.

“Madam, that was…astonishing.”

No doubt the girl found it lacking, but Elisa didn’t care. She’d played it for herself and no one else. Well…perhaps for one other person.