Читать книгу Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 54

‘Graham.’ Nick nodded to the other man.

‘Seaton.’ Mr Graham’s voice was equally pleasant, equally unyielding.

‘If you will excuse me, I will escort Miss Cunningham back to her chaperon.’

‘Unnecessary, Seaton, I was just escorting her myself.’

‘But I insist.’

‘And so do I.’

Oh, Lord. Now what to do? The two were bristling at each other in the most perfectly polite manner imaginable. ‘Mr Graham?’

‘Yes, Miss Cunningham?’

‘I would be most grateful for a glass of lemonade, if you would be so kind.’ Katherine opened wide brown eyes at the Scotsman and smiled.

‘But of course, Miss Cunningham. I will bring it to where Lady Fanny is sitting immediately.’ There was the slightest emphasis on the last word, then he turned on his heel and began to weave his way through the onlookers watching the dancing.

‘Honestly, Nick,’ Katherine hissed as he took her arm and began to walk in the opposite direction. ‘I was feeling like a bone between two dogs.’

‘That Scotsman is paying you altogether too much attention.’

‘He is not that Scotsman,’ Katherine retorted. ‘He is a perfectly pleasant young lawyer who has simply been courteous enough to talk to me at dinner and to ask me for two dances. If you did not want me to talk to him, you should not have placed me next to him.’

‘I had nothing to do with the seating plans.’

‘I can see that. If you had, I doubt you would have placed me next to a man who saw you hanged.’

‘What?’

‘He was at Newgate. Somehow I do not think he will recognise you.’

‘Is that why you suddenly looked faint at dinner?’ She nodded and Nick steered her neatly into an alcove. ‘That is better, one can hardly hear oneself think out there.’

‘It is certainly a difficult environment in which to have an argument in whispers,’ Katherine agreed tartly.

‘Is that what we are doing?’ He smiled and took her chin between long fingers.

‘I do not know how else to characterise it. You pounce on me when I am in the company of a perfectly unexceptionable gentleman, you lecture me on associating with him, for no good reason—oh!’ Her complaint was silenced by Nick simply leaning down and kissing her, very firmly, very calmly and with a complete disregard to whatever was happening just the other side of a silk curtain.

‘Nick!’ Katherine freed her mouth and took a hasty step backwards, coming up with a bump against a pillar. ‘People will see.’

‘Please be assured, Miss Cunningham, that if I have placed you in a compromising position I am only too ready to do the honourable thing …’

With a suppressed squeak of outrage Katherine swept out of the alcove in what was dangerously close to being a flounce. Nick did not attempt to follow her and she made her way back to Lady Fanny feeling more than a little flustered. Mr Graham was waiting patiently with her drink. He had obviously brought one for her chaperon as well, and was politely attempting to follow one of Lady Fanny’s more discursive commentaries.

‘Miss Cunningham.’ He leapt to his feet and looked behind her with furrowed brow. ‘Where is Lord Seaton?’

‘I … we … quarrelled. I think.’ Katherine took the lemonade and drank it thirstily.

‘If he has—’ The lawyer was on his feet, hands clenched.

‘No, no!’ Katherine urged him to sit again. ‘Nothing of that sort. It is a … family matter which causes some tension, that is all.’

‘You will allow me to escort you in to supper?’ He still did not seem easy with her explanation.

‘Thank you, yes, that would be most kind.’

Lady Fanny gave an approving nod, then smiled as another tall man approached. ‘Cousin Robert, have you come to ask Miss Cunningham to dance?’

‘Well, yes.’ Robert smiled cheerfully at Katherine. ‘Do you have any waltzes free after supper, Miss Cunningham? I’ll have done my duty dances by then. But I was hoping you’d let me take you in to supper.’

‘You are just too late, Lord Robert. Do you know Mr Graham?’

The men exchanged greetings and Robert suggested they all go in together. ‘Cousin Fanny?’

‘No, Robert dear, I am joining Lady Willington’s party.’

Katherine looked around her for Nick, but there was no sign of him. She bit her lip: quarrelling with him was far from what she had dreamed of doing on this fairytale evening.

Everything was as magnificent as she had imagined, yet light-hearted, almost whimsical in tone. The flowers were massed banks of wildflowers mixed with hot house blooms, the lights twinkled behind shades of different coloured glass, the luxury and attention to detail was laid on with a light hand. It made her smile and think of Nick. She had not expected it of the Duke and wondered if, despite their exchange at lunch the other day, Nick had had some hand in it. Or perhaps he had inherited yet another characteristic of his father.

Then they entered the supper room and there he was, sitting very much at his ease, conversing over a plate of shaved ham with the redhead. What was her name? Clarissa? No, Camilla. Katherine fixed a glittering smile in place and allowed Robert to guide her to a table in full view of his brother. She sank gracefully on to the chair Mr Graham pulled out for her and allowed the two men to bicker politely over who was going to serve her.

‘I will fetch the champagne and you fetch the food, then,’ Robert concluded, making off towards the table spread with black bottles.

Champagne? Lady Fanny had expressly said no champagne. A few feet away Nick was pouring a wine into Lady Camilla’s glass. Well, if she can, I can. I am not going to be a provincial mouse, Katherine decided.

Nick looked over and she smiled sweetly at him and waggled her fingers in the kind of coquettish gesture she had always despised in other women.

Nick saw the little wave, correctly reading it for the sarcastic gesture it was meant to be. He bowed in return, lifting his glass in a silent toast that was not lost on his companion, who turned a haughty stare on Kat.

‘And who is she?’ she enquired coolly. ‘A tolerably pretty girl, I must admit, she can certainly dress.’

‘A friend of Cousin Fanny. Would you call her pretty?’ Nick enquired lazily, trailing one finger around the top of his wine glass. Good, Robert had recalled his instructions and was bringing champagne. Why the devil he had also brought that prickly Scottish lawyer, goodness knows, unless he had not been able to dislodge him.

Camilla was preening slightly at his apparent criticism of Kat. She was quite obviously expecting that, as the most eligible lady in the district, he would be making her a declaration before long. Even if he was free, such an assumption irritated him. ‘No, definitely not pretty.’ Camilla smiled. ‘I would call her beautiful.’ The smile vanished to be replaced with a pout. Kat never pouts.

‘Look,’ Camilla said brightly with an edge that revealed her anger with him. ‘There is Jack Waterfall and my sister Lucy. Jack! Jack, come and join us.’

Nick stood as the others reached the table. ‘Will you excuse me a moment?’

Kat was still alone. Across the room Robert was juggling a bottle and three glasses while Graham was apparently undecided on the best way to convey food for three people back to the table.

‘Kat?’ She was quite well aware he was there, but her start of surprise was masterly and his lips twitched.

‘Oh. My lord?’

‘Have you saved me a dance, Kat?’

She flicked open the card that dangled from her wrist. ‘As instructed, I have kept my card free, awaiting your pleasure.’ Oh, no, Kat, awaitingy our pleasure …

‘That one.’ He picked up the pencil and wrote his name against a waltz halfway through the remaining dances.

‘Just the one?’ She sounded piqued, and then frowned, annoyed at herself for revealing it.

‘Just the one, Kat.’ He smiled and went back to his table. One is all I need.

Katherine drank two glasses of champagne, amazed at how it made even the haughtily averted profile of Lady Camilla less annoying. It did not, however, make her husband’s behaviour any less mysterious. Was he teasing her? Punishing her for some offence she was unaware of? Flirting?

Flirting? She was not very experienced with such an activity, but surely that was a very strange way to go about it? A footman came up with a message for Robert, who scrambled to his feet with a muttered, ‘Oh, lor'. Cousin Timberlake is in his cups again. Please excuse me, Ka … Miss Cunningham.’

Alone with Roderick Graham, and emboldened by the two glasses of wine, Katherine said, ‘Mr Graham, if you were to flirt with me, how would you go about it?’

He almost choked on a lobster patty and took several moments before he could reply. ‘You would like me to flirt with you, Miss Cunningham?’

‘Oh, no, I am sorry. No, it is just that I am very inexperienced with things like that, and I am sure I would not notice if a gentleman were to flirt, and, naturally, one should be awake to that sort of thing.’ Now she had embarked upon this, Katherine was not at all sure how she was going to extricate herself. ‘And, naturally, one cannot ask a man who one would not trust,’ she finished in a rush. Possibly respectable Scottish lawyers, however youthful and good looking, were not the right type of man to ask. She misjudged Mr Graham.

‘Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Firstly I think I would fill up your wine glass and hand it to you, like this—and let my fingertips touch yours, like that.’

‘Oh.’

‘And then I would raise my glass in a toast to you, like this, and hold your eyes while I did so.’

‘Oh.’ Katherine swallowed. ‘And then?’

‘I would tell you what very beautiful eyes you have. And what very long eyelashes you have.’ He paused. ‘Would you like me to continue? I have to say, it is a pleasurable employment, but Lord Seaton appears to be becoming enraged, and whilst I—’

‘No! No, thank you very much, Mr Graham; that was most instructive.’ Well, if that was flirting, then Nick was certainly not indulging in it. On the other hand, if he was annoyed by Mr Graham—and she was most certainly not going to give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction—then that was interesting in itself.

She refused offers of another ice and left the supper room with her escort. There seemed to be only one explanation for her husband’s behaviour: possessiveness and a strong protective instinct. Which was depressing, for she did not want to be regarded as a possession to be guarded or a feeble woman to be protected.

But such melancholy thoughts were banished by a gratifying stream of requests for dances, to the point where she had to refuse the two before her waltz with Nick in order to escape and see Jenny.

Her maid clucked over a torn hem and made Katherine stand stock-still while she knelt and whipped the seam hastily. ‘And just look at your back hair.’ She relieved her feelings by jabbing in pins enthusiastically. ‘When do you dance with the master?’

‘The next dance. Jenny, am I flushed?’

‘Just nicely,’ Jenny pronounced, head on one side. ‘Bite your lips a little. There, now off you go.’

A quadrille was in progress and Katherine stayed where she was rather than make her way round to where Lady Fanny was deep in gossip with a bosom friend.

‘Another glass of champagne?’ It was Nick, standing right beside her, a glass in each hand.

‘I have had two,’ she said realising how gauche it sounded.

‘Another will not hurt.’

‘Very well.’ Katherine took the glass, startled to find that Nick’s fingertips touched hers. She looked up and found herself gazing deep into black eyes that seemed to burn hot.

The quadrille came to a close, the dancers clapping and walking off the floor. Nick retrieved her half-empty glass and set it down. ‘Now, Kat.’ And took her in his arms.

She was reminded of how he had held her the morning she had left him in Newgate; that fierce intensity. She looked up, but only his eyes betrayed any emotion beyond a pleasant social smile.

The music started and she was swept into the dance. This was nothing like Mr Graham’s carefully executed steps or the cautious and proper approach of the other gentleman she had waltzed with that evening. This was a very different experience indeed.

Her head whirling, she was conscious that she was improperly close to Nick’s body. When he whirled her round their thighs brushed, his hand tightened on her waist. She was so close that when she tried to look up she had to tip her head. It would be much more comfortable just to move closer and rest it against his waistcoat.

It was very strange, the music seemed to be getting softer, the floor harder, the air cooler. Hazily Katherine realised her eyes were closed and her head was, after all, resting on Nick’s chest as he swept her round and round and round. And there was no more music, only Nick humming softly in her ear.

‘Nick?’ It was far too difficult to open her eyes.

‘Mmm?’

‘Where are we?’

‘On the terrace. Look.’

He came to a halt and reluctantly Katherine opened her eyes and gasped. They were standing on the edge of the terrace, looking out towards the lake. Instead of it being merely a darker smudge in the dark parkland, it was illuminated with lanterns all around the edge and on what she realised must be boats on the surface.

‘Nick, it is magical.’ It came out as a whisper. Had anyone seen them come out here? It was a very fast thing to be doing, yet here, now, in his arms, prudence fled.

‘Look at the house.’ He turned her within the shelter of his arm to look at the fairytale palace the Duke had conjured up with light. Flambeaux blazed along the frontage, lanterns flicked and danced on every balcony and, amidst the urns and containers of white flowers that seemed to be everywhere, more lights glowed silver.

‘Come this way, let me show you a secret.’ She was almost unaware of his arm around her waist, drawing her to him. All she was conscious of was enchantment, a feeling of safety and warmth, and a stirring deep in her veins as though her blood was turning to liquid silver, flashing and running through her.

In a dream she let Nick guide her slowly along the broad terrace and round the corner of the great house. On this façade too the flambeaux blazed and the lanterns glowed. Nick stopped at the foot of one of the turrets. One flaming torch was thrust in a holder by a small door. In the breeze the flame snapped and flared, colouring Nick’s face with red light. He looked unfamiliar, but not frightening.

‘Kat, look at me.’

‘I am.’

‘Kat …’ His mouth took hers in a hot, fierce claiming that swept her away instantly. There was nothing to do but yield to it, arch her body into his, open her lips to the pressure of his, ignore the voice of common sense that was battering away at her mind like a moth at a lighted window. Stop this now, before it is too late … It’s a kiss, only a kiss, her yearning, loving, heart argued back. I can stop any time I want to … I love him, he will never hold me like this again … It is only for a moment, then we can go back and no one will know.

His mouth was kissing, nibbling a hot path down her throat, up again to the lobe of her ear. One hand held her hard against him, the other strayed down caressingly to circle her breast.

Katherine gasped, stunned that the touch could send fire deep into her belly, set up an ache that could find no relief in either his touch or his mouth returning to hers. The earth moved, the stars and the looming bulk of the tower above her shifted. At first she thought dazedly that she was fainting, then she found she was in Nick’s arms and he was shouldering open the tower door.

No. Her voice was not working; she mustered all her strength of will now, while his caressing hands were stilled and his mouth had left hers, and tried again. ‘No. Nick, stop, this is madness. What are you doing?’

‘Carrying you upstairs to my bed where I intend making love to you.’ His voice was calm, not even breathless with the climb; if she had not been pressed against his chest, able to feel the thud of his heart, she would have thought him unmoved.

‘No!’ she said again. ‘You promised me that I could have the marriage annulled. How can I if we make love?’

‘I would never break a promise to you, Kat.’ He had reached a landing on the spiral stairs and shifted her in his arms so he could open the door. ‘I did not say we were going to make love. I said I am going to make love to you. There is a difference.’

‘I … I do not understand.’

‘I know.’ They were at his bedchamber door. Katherine knew she should struggle, but the same trust that had filled her when she had looked across that prison room into the eyes of a filthy, unshaven felon possessed her now.

They were inside the room. Candles burned steadily, there was a fire in the grate and on the washstand steam rose lazily from the jug. Someone had only just left. Nick set her gently on her feet and reached behind him to turn the key in the lock. ‘The key is in the door, Kat—you can walk away if you want to.’