Miss Cresswell's London Triumph (25 page)

Hitherto, Ned had felt somewhat proprietary about her because he alone had known how unique she was. He alone had made her relaxed and comfortable enough that she revealed her wit and charm. Now, apparently, she was sharing them with the entire ton, and Ned was not best pleased about it. Don't be a dog in the manger, he admonished himself. Isn't that the very reason you paid such attention to her? You wanted to help bring her to the notice of society so she would be given the admiration and acclaim that was her due.

As he examined his motives and the turmoil of emotions he was now experiencing, Ned realized that he had been acting in his own interests all along. Face it, youVe been in love with her since you were in short coats, you fool, he told himself. Arabella was the merest of infatuations and only now when you're at a standstill do you recognize all this. You're a nodcock, Ned Mainwaring, and now you must do your best to retrieve your position with Cassie and set about the task of convincing her of all this. He sighed. Complicated as this process of discovery had been, it was nothing compared to the task he was now setting for himself. It was extremely difficult to know how to proceed, especially when he could barely get near her, constantly surrounded as she was by a crowd of beaux.

Ned knew that Cassie was likely to be at the ball at Rutland House that evening, and since it behooved him to act as quickly as possible before she was more distracted by the attentions of other admirers, he resolved to try to approach her there in the hopes of explaining himself.

He dressed with uncommon care, taking more time than customary on his cravat and assuring himself several times that his coat fit without a wrinkle. Observing these preparations, his valet, a taciturn individual who had long ago realized that his master's interest in clothes was, at best, limited, knew that something of importance was in the wind. But, having been hired just because he catered to Ned's preference for silence and solitude, he refrained from revealing by the slightest gesture that he was aware of anything at all unusual in his master's conduct.

The extra care taken in Ned's accouterment had its effect, and more than one head turned as he entered the ballroom. Many hearts fluttered at the sight of his tall, well-knit form, the breadth of his shoulders, and the strength of his arms and chest, all heightened by the severe elegance of his attire. More than one woman sighed at the firm jawline and the dark blue eyes set deep under black brows in a countenance rendered more attractive but more forbidding by the contrast between the snowy whiteness of the cravat and the dark coat.

Unaware of the admiring glances he was attracting, his eyes swept the room, anxiously looking for the gleam of candlelight on gold curls. At last he found Cassie, an ethereal yet provocative presence in silver net over a white satin slip, her delicate grace emphasized by the somber lines of the costumes of the men surrounding her. As Ned watched she laughingly disengaged herself from the cluster around her and headed toward an alcove whose gently billowing curtains suggested an open window or balcony beyond them.

So intent was Cassie on gaining the sanctuary of the alcove that she did not notice that she was being followed by young Buckingham, whose besotted expression showed him to be as unconscious of the rest of the occupants of the ballroom as she was.

That puppy! Ned ground his teeth, as much annoyed by Buckingham's obliviousness to everything but Cassie as he was by the fact that the enamored swain was going to intrude on the moment of respite she was so obviously seeking. With no very clear idea of why he was doing so, except to keep Cassie s chance for a minute of peace and solitude from being ruined by an overeager young buck, Ned started toward the alcove himself.

Unfortunately, his progress was impeded by several friends who insisted upon learning the consequences of his sojourn in the country, so it was some time before Ned succeeded in gaining his objective. By the time he arrived, there was no sight of either Cassie or her follower. Deciding that it must be a balcony rather than an open window that was responsible for the breeze, he pushed the curtains aside and stepped out, only to have his gaze met by a scene straight from the most romantic of novels to be obtained from the circulating libraries.

Cassie stood, one hand on the railing, her slender form outlined in the moonlight. Directly in front of her, young Buckingham was smothering her hand with kisses and endeavoring to pull her into his arms.

Ned, normally a coolheaded man of sanguine temperament and a peace-loving nature, was suddenly seized by a murderous rage. The scene was blurred by a red mist of anger that rose before his eyes and his hands clenched at his sides as he accused her furiously, "So, not content with being the Season's latest sensation, you are now trying for the title of the biggest flirt in all of London!"

Cassie snatched her hand away and turned toward him, her eyes blazing with indignation. "I am not a flirt, Ned Mainwaring. And if I were, I don't see that it's the slightest concern of yours," she responded, her voice trembling with anger.

"And you, my lad, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, intruding upon a lady's solitude like that." Ned grasped the now quaking Buckingham by the cravat.

"Yes sir, of course, sir," the youth quavered. Released abruptly as Ned turned back to Cassie, he fled as quickly and quietly as possible, only too glad to escape the unpleasant scene.

Looking at him, Cassie couldn't think when she had seen Ned more angry. His countenance was truly alarming: the blue eyes were dark in his white set face, the firm lips were compressed into a thin line, and his black brows were drawn together in a dreadful frown. All the frustrations of the past week overwhelmed him and Ned's control snapped. He grasped her shoulders roughly and pulled her to him, gasping in a curiously grating voice, "And you ... if you are determined to be a coquette and steal kisses in the moonlight, you ought at least to do so with someone who knows what he is doing."

With that he pulled her to him and brought his lips down hard on hers. He was furiously angry and at first his kiss was brutal, punishing, but as he felt the softness of her lips underneath his and sensed the warmth of her body against him, caressed the silkiness of her skin beneath his hands, his fury drained away. His lips relaxed. He sighed and gathered her closer to him, kissing her lingeringly, caressingly, as he traced her jaw with his lips, moving them down the smooth column of her neck. Through half-closed eyes he saw the net of her corsage straining as she gasped for breath and he longed to tear it aside and cover her with kisses.

Too taken aback at first to do anything but respond to the anger in his attack, Cassie struggled to escape, but the more she strove to free herself, the more tightly Ned pulled her to him. Dimly she was aware of her surprise at the strength of his arms and the hardness of his chest. As his lips became gentler and more persuasive, a wave of warmth and languor swept over her. The rigidity seeped out of her body and she found it molding itself to his, her lips opening under his insistent pressure. A haze swam before her eyes and she felt dizzy and weak.

But just as her senses threatened to be overwhelmed by the intensity of these new and disturbing sensations, a warning flickered inside her head and the ever-present voice of reason asserted itself once again. What ever are you doing, Cassie Cresswell? It's Arabella he wants. YouVe only made him angry. It's just that he doesn't like the idea of an adoring playmate growing up and paying attention to someone else. It's not that he wants you. He is angry at you, not attracted to you. Gathering the last reserves of strength and self-esteem, Cassie pulled herself away, gasping, "How could you, Ned! Oh how could you treat a friend so?" With a swirl of skirts she fled.

Somehow Cassie gained the staircase without being seen and located a footman to go in search of the Mainwarings' carriage. John, who had not expected to be called for hours, had been dozing happily, and came grumbling at the footman's summons. Catching sight of Cassie's white face, he was immediately all concern and threw the reins to a link boy so he could hand her tenderly into the carriage himself. "There, there. Miss Cassie. Well have you home in a pig's whisper," he reassured her gently as he helped her in and shut the door.

Tears strung her eyes at his solicitude and as she settled back against the squabs, they began to trickle slowly down her cheeks. Wiping them furiously away with her hand, she muttered to herself. This will never do. It's only Ned after all. You've been angiy at each other before. Youll see. Youll both come 'round and be merry as grigs in no time. She sighed, knowing full well that this time it was different and the difference was in her reaction to him. It's not Ned that's upsetting you, my girl, she told herself. It's you. You know you wanted him to go on kissing you, to crave you as much as you longed to stay in his arms and feel him close to you and holding you. That's what's upsetting you. You're disturbed because your body recognized before your head did that you're in love with him. In love with him, she repeated softly to herself. Yes, I suppose that's it. And he's in love with Arabella.

The carriage halted. Sighing wearily, Cassie gathered her skirts around her and descended slowly with none of her characteristic quickness.

Higgins, opening the door and observing her wilted form, was all concern, ushering her in and sending Rose scampering to her mistress with a cup of hot milk and a soothing touch as she helped her out of her clothes and brushed her hair.

"Something is dreadfully wrong with Miss Cassie. IVe never seen her so quiet before. She's in a bad way," Rose confided to the worried little group clustered in the kitchen. "I wish I knew what to do." She sighed heavily. "But you know Miss Cassie, never one to share her troubles and always wanting to fix them herself."

While the discussion was going on belowstairs, Cassie lay in bed staring wide-eyed at the pattern in the bed hangings. I must get out of here, away from all of this, back to Cresswell where I can be myself again, she thought. But she knew that she would never quite be the old, saucy, independent Cassie again.

She traced her lips with the tip of her finger, feeling the tingling that still remained there from his kiss. How could I have been so blind? she wondered. Thinking over the empty way she had been feeling since Freddie and Ned had gone to India, she realized with a start that she'd been missing Ned. Why IVe been in love with him for ages, I just never knew it, she marveled. But why did I discover this tonight?

As she considered it, she became aware that until he had kissed her, she had thought of Ned as a dear friend. He was someone whom she was fond of as she was of Freddie or Frances, someone she felt comfortable with, someone she could confide in. But tonight she had recognized that he was someone who aroused far deeper feelings than that. She desired him. She wanted to be close to him, to feel him against her. And she wanted him to desire her.

For a moment when he had looked at her with such intensity, she had thought perhaps he did, but she knew that was just an illusion. She was not the type of woman men desired. Despite Bertie's tutelage, she knew she wasn't at all seductive. She could not be like Arabella and tantalize men until they craved her above everything else. She was just Cassie Cresswell, someone people enjoyed because they felt comfortable with her. She could talk on any subject, share any interest, make people relax and confide anything to her, and amuse them with her unexpected comments. Until now, that had been enough. She had been more than happy to be sought out and enjoyed because she was good company and everyone trusted her. Now she wanted more, and she wanted it from someone who longed for someone else just as she longed for him.

She tossed restlessly, thinking and thinking, revisiting the scene until her head ached, but she could come up with no solution other than escape. Yes, I shall go down to Cresswell and I shall begin my studies again. In time, if I'm not wildly happy, at least I shall be at peace and I shall be able to occupy my mind and my time with something useful. That settled, she fell into an uneasy sleep just before dawn.

Meanwhile, Cassie was not the only one for whom sleep was an impossibility. Ned had only remained on the balcony, staring aghast at the empty space she had just left, a few minutes longer than Cassie before he, too, left the ball. Hoping to clear his head, he had dismissed his carriage and walked home, cursing himself for a fool all the way. What a cow-handed gudgeon you are! Instead of telling her that you loved her, you raged at her like an idiot and then mauled her like some importunate youth. And now youVe alienated her completely. If she used to hold you in mild affection, she certainly won't any longer.

He had been walking along at a brisk rate, suiting his steps to his thoughts, and he arrived home even before he was aware of having turned in to Brook Street. His valet was waiting for him, but after requesting him to bring up a bottle of brandy, Ned dismissed him and sat down, staring moodily into the fire.

Despite the blackness of his thoughts, he smiled tenderly as he recalled the brief moment when he had felt Cassie relax in his arms and her lips open beneath his. He had wanted that feeling to go on forever. Over the years he had kissed countless women and had held and caressed scores of voluptuous bodies in all states of dress and undress, but when he had felt the quiver of response in Cassie as her body moved to fit itself to his, it was as though he had discovered love and all the wonder and delight of it for the first time. In truth he had. He had certainly been attracted to women before, had desired them, been aroused and stimulated by them, even fancied himself in love with them, but he had never before undergone the variety and intensity of emotions besieging him now. He wanted Cassie desperately. He wanted to talk to her, to tease her, to discover and learn things with her. All at the same time he wished to protect her, cherish her, seduce her, and ravish her until she ached with the same fire that was torturing him.