Conscious of her cousin’s watchful
gaze, Gwen batted her lashes and flashed her best smile. “Surely
one favor deserves another.”
“
Is this more of your crazy
nonsense? Let me guess. As your gallant knight, I’m to be rewarded
with some scrap of silk or lace that I can drag about as a token of
my Lady’s favor.”
She had no desire to give him anything,
but since he asked, she supposed she could spare her handkerchief.
If he took it, if she could get him to smile as he did so, that
should be proof enough for Edith.
Reluctantly, she pulled a lacy square
from her reticule. “My aunt gave this to me. The tiny shamrocks or
for good luck.”
He glanced at it briefly, then stared
into her eyes. “You’d offer me a good luck token?” He seemed
puzzled, and for a moment, approachable. “Won’t Lance objects to
your offering gifts to another man?”
All at once, she found the prospect of
Lance being moved to jealousy most attractive. “Lance has no hold
over me,” she said defiantly. “I can grant tokens where ever I
may.”
With a faint smile, he reached out for
the handkerchief, his large callused hands closing over her own.
His gaze met hers, claiming her, making her forget the world around
them. As he brought her fingers to his lips, Gwen found it harder
and harder draw a decent breath.
“
I am your vassal,” said,
kissing her trembling hand. “I live to serve you, my lady
Gwyneth.”
Gwen froze. They were the words they
used as children, secret password for playing Camelot. “How could
you know-“scared to ask, but was silence by a rather loud, “Unhand
her” from behind.
Lance strode toward them, his face
tight with anger. “What do you think you were doing, sir?” He said,
clearly outraged.
“
If you will excuse us,”
stranger said, keeping his gaze trained on Gwen. “I was talking to
the lady.”
“
How dare you barge into
this house.”
He looked at Lance then, gaze turned
cold. “Have I missed something? Have you become master here,
Lance?”
Lance stiffened. “I am, as you well
know, and honored guest which is more than anyone can say for you.
We can’t have your kind bothering our ladies. Unhand Miss Gwen and
get out of here at once, or be prepared to suffer the
consequences.”
Gwen knew she could speak up, she could
tell Lance she’d been the one of bothering him, but then she’d lose
her wager with Edith. Besides, Lance clearly didn’t like this man.
How could she admit she been engaged in flirtation?
The stranger glared to her, his face
giving away nothing, yet she could sense his disappointments all
the same. He nodded, as if unsurprised by her failure to explain.
“I see, it’s all just another game,” he said quietly. “Though you
should take better care in choosing your playmates, my lady. Not
all men act with a sense of honor.”
Lance step forward, moving between them
to reach out and strike the other man. “For such audacity, I demand
satisfaction.”
Still as a statue, eyes glittering
dangerously, the stranger shook his head. “I have no intention of
fighting with you.”
“
Coward” Lance spit out.
“But then, what can we expect from the likes of you? One so ready
to compromise Miss McCloud’s good name.”
The man stood firm, facing Lance eye to
eye. “If her name becomes soiled, it won’t be my doing. Go find
someone else upon whom to prove you’re a man, Lance. I have no wish
to hurt you.”
“
What audacity. As if the
likes of you could best be in a fight.”
“
And as if you even know the
likes of me.” The man shook his head, clearly disgusted. “Still
claim to be the champion of parish? Lucky for you, I vowed never to
fight again?”
“
Just what are you
implying?”
Before the stranger could answer, Mrs.
Foster both sold into the hallway. “Sir?” She said, purring toward
Rafe. “I’m told you were asking for some sort of
package?”
Smile completely transform the man’s
features. Why, he quite devastatingly charming, Gwen thought in
amazement, he bit chagrined that she never seemed to spare any of
that charm for her.
“
It wasn’t mentioned that
you be having a party,” he said pleasantly. “Sorry for barging in
on you, ma’am. I’ll just take my package and be on my
way.”
Mrs. Foster shook her head, clearly
flustered. “But there is no package, sir. Nor were we informed of
its arrival. Who ever said it would be here has lied to
you.”
“
Why doesn’t that surprised
me?” The man said under his breath, before flashing an apologetic
smile. “Please forgive the intrusion, ma’am. Sorry to have troubled
you.”
As the door closed behind him, Gwen
touched her hand, feeling lost and confused. What package at he
been talking about, and who had promised it, and why were her hands
still trembling?
Lance began muttering about
everything, while Edith, close enough to be his shadow, second
every complaint. Not liking how her cousin touched his arm, Gwen
announced that the scene had upset her and would Lance please get
her a glass of punch?
You
frowned
, she thought she might refuse, but
with a tight smile, marched off to the buffet table.
“
He’s not your trained pet,
you know,” Edith said irritatingly when he’d gone. “Not all men
want to jump through hoops for you.”
“
You’re just angry that I
got the stranger to smile at me” grabbing her skirts, Gwen waltzed
into the ballroom, letting Edith trail behind her.
“
But you had to give him
your handkerchief,” Edith reminded nastily. “Whatever will you do
when Lance learns you gave it away?”
Gwen felt chilled. Lance expected his
wife to be a lady, and ladies did not go around giving out personal
items to strange men. “I shall soon have it back,” he said
blissfully, not wanting her cousin to see how it worried her. “In
the meantime,” she added, hoping to distract her cousin, “please
hand over your fan. I’ve won it fair and square.”
Lips pursed, Edith slapped the fan in
Gwen’s hand and did her own flouncing to the other side of the
room.
Gwen took as deep a breath as her
corset would allow. My, but the past hour seemed a blur, things
happening too fast, being too charged with emotion. But then, she’d
been un able to get her thoughts straight all three times she’d
been near that stranger.
As heat flooded her thoughts, she open
the fan, blaming the warmth on her heavy velvet gown. Worse, the
skin beneath her corset was beginning to itch. With longing, she
ran for the French doors across the room, but the candlelit veranda
was too crowded with strolling couples for privacy. More promising
words the floor to ceiling windows to her right, for no one had
bothered to provide light for that side of the house. No doubt they
felt the women’s wide skirts wouldn’t fit through the narrow
openings.
Hers would, she thought, but even as
she stepped forward, she was caught by Missy Mae Benson. Hot and
tired and irritated by life in general, Gwen was in no mood to
listen to Missy’s whining about how too few legible bachelors had
chosen to attend this ball.
What a tedious summer, Missy droned on,
with all the desirable boys either married or otherwise engaged.
Robert Summer might as well have died like his father, for he’d
become a virtual ghost in his attempt to manage Rivers Edge. And
that Drew Summer? Why on earth would a girl flirt with someone
who’d abandon them and gone up north to school?
Gwen said a silent goodbye to more of
her would be suitors. Glancing about, she realized that she hadn’t
seen Beau either. She made the mistake of mentioning this to
Misty.
“
My heavens, Gwen, didn’t
you hear?” The girl gasped. “His family is gone.”
“
Gone? How can that be? They
ran River Edge or years.”
Shaking her mousy brown ringlits, Missy
lowered her voice to a suitable whisper. “My daddy tells me they
been courting financial disaster, getting deeper in debt just
trying to keep up pretenses. I find it terribly cheeky of them,
don’t you, to trick us into thinking all was well?”
Gwen felt uneasy. After all, Lance’s
family had been “keeping up pretenses” for years.
Missy sniffed with indignation. “Why,
when I think of how I almost considered that Beau for a suitor, I
can’t be sorry their house burned down. I’ve heard that Beau’s gone
to Mobile, angling for an Heiress, but between you and me, I can’t
see how that boy stands a chance. All that drinking has robbed him
of his looks.
My court is rapidly dwindling, Gwen
thought with dismay. There had been no rush to find a husband in
Boston, so many admirers waiting at home. Find they hadn’t waited,
that they’d scattered about the country, left her vaguely
unsettled. Could nothing go the way she planned?
“
Can’t help but be curious
about the new owners,” Missy went on. “No one has seen them, though
I’m told the fields are being worked, and Dave set the foundation
for a house. Wouldn’t it be perfect if they had boys our
age?”
Is there our age, there are hardly boys
left, Gwen nearly blurted, but she saw no real benefit calling
attention to her own advancing years. Poor Missy might be doomed to
spinsterhood but Gwen still had Lance.
“
Though they would probably
suffer in our company anyway?” Missy droned on. “River Society has
become so boring in your absence, Gwen. I declare, if I must have
the Misses Beauchamps to tea one more time, I’m liable to take for
the hills on my daddy’s new mare. If we hope to draw decent boys to
our parties, we need more exhilarating entertainments than an
afternoon social. Remember those worrying tournaments our families
used to hold? Now there was fun and excitement. Whatever happens
that your daddy stopped having them?
Mother’s death
happened
Even as the thought and intruded, Gwen
cut it off. She was here to enjoy herself, not dwell on the
unpleasant past. “We need something new and unique,” she said
flippantly to change the subject. “Maybe we should hold a bazaar
and set up a special booth for all the unmarried ladies. Anyone
wanting a husband could auction herself off to the highest
bidder.
Missy pretended to be shocked, but
behind her fluttering fan, pale eyes glittered with interest. “Why,
Gwen, we’d be like slaves on the market. My daddy would never dream
of letting me make myself so.”
But Missy wished he would. Despite her
glittering jewels and dainty, white ball dress, the men weren’t
precisely lining up at the doors for James Benson’s precious
daughter.
The spurt of envy surprised Gwen, and
she instantly denied it. What was there to be jealous of? Missy had
less looks than a fence post and even if her daddy adored her, what
good did it do? For all of his money, Mr. Benson had been unable to
buy her a husband.
To her relief, Lance appeared with Herb
Punch, and Missy abandon the topic in favor of flirting with him.
It’s was the prospect of being trapped by that chatterbox, Gwen
told herself, that had Lance quickly muttering his excuses and
insisting that he promised the next dance to Edith.
Extricating herself from Misty, Gwen
refused to watch the dancing couple. She had no wish to act like
some silly, jealous schoolgirl, yet she had even less desire to
dance and was in no mood to talk. She felt tired and hot, and the
area under her stays were now itching terribly.
More she tried not to think about her
wretched corset, the more it continued to bother her. A younger,
more hoydenish Gwen would have reached in under her right breast
and scratched it, but the adult was ever mindful of mother’s
admonitions. A true lady, she knew, must simply grin and bear
it.
But she couldn’t-it was driving her
mad. She couldn’t go back to the room set aside for freshening up,
where the girls had I heard dress and giggled behind their fans.
Fanning herself viciously, she eyed the open windows to her right,
finding it dark enough outside scratch in private. Assuming a
nonchalant air, she sauntered across the room and slipped through
the opening.
Outside, a cool breeze stirred the
night air, and Gwen lifted the hair off her neck to enjoy it.
Crossing the brick-paved veranda to the balustrade, she inhaled
deeply, grateful to be out of the sent-laden air of the ballroom. A
soft moon, nearly full, poked through the oaks overhead, but aside
from music inside and the muffled voices around the corner, Gwen
could be in her own separate world. Glancing over her shoulder to
make certain no one inside could see, Gwen reached down front of
her dress.
“
Need help?” A voice asked
from the shadows.
She froze, recognizing the distinctive
voice. Wasn’t it inevitable that the handsome stranger would catch
her at this most embarrassing moment? “What are you doing here?”
She lashed out, yanking her hand behind her back as she spun to
face him.
Vaulting the balustrade, he stood
beside her. “Enjoying the night air.”
He is one handsome devil when he
smiles, Gwen couldn’t help thinking. “Really? Looks to me you were
hiding in the bushes.”