Midnight Rose (3 page)

Zachary Tremayne felt anything but fatherly as his eyes drank in the stirring sight of his stepdaughter. He didn’t dare stand, lest the desire she’d so instantly evoked be obvious in his tight trousers. He raised one hand, still holding his drink, in a toast. “To the most gorgeous enchantress Virginia has ever seen,” he said.

Erin murmured an obligatory acknowledgment but didn’t look his way. She could actually feel the heat of his stare from across the room and wondered why her mother didn’t sense it. Yet Erin knew it was a blessing she didn’t. The man was evil, a reprobate, and she couldn’t stand even to be in the same room with him.

“I think we’d better leave now,” she said, declining the drink that Roscoe, the butler, offered.

In a thick, husky voice, Zachary protested, “You’ve got time for a sherry. After all, you’re supposed to be fashionably late, make a grand entrance.” He didn’t want her to leave, wanted to drink in the sight of her as long as possible.

Erin bit back a sharp retort. She didn’t want to make any kind of entrance. She intended just to drift in quietly, then find a place to hide till it was all over. Let her mother do the mingling. But, for the moment, she wanted to escape Zachary’s company. With a stubborn lift of her chin, she turned toward the door. “I don’t want to be late. I’ll wait in the carriage.”

She hurried out, and Arlene fearfully turned to Zachary and apologized. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted this little family gathering for us. I’m afraid I don’t know what’s wrong with her these days.”

“Your sister-in-law spoiled her, that’s what’s wrong with her. She needs to taste the lash, learn her place, just like the slaves.” He tossed down his drink angrily.

Arlene whispered, “I’m sorry, Zachary. I’ll talk to her and make her see she’s hurt your feelings.” Quickly, she ran from the room to follow after Erin, lest he lose his temper and forbid them to go.

Chapter Two

Their carriage proceeded slowly along
the curving driveway, which was crowded with fine saddle horses and other conveyances. It was not yet dark, but already lightning bugs performed their glowing dance of twilight beneath the canopy of spreading oaks. The velvet-green lawn of Pine Tops plantation was a rainbow of pastel-gowned debutantes. Their glittering jewels vied to outshine the eager eyes of potential beaus.

The mansion was huge and impressive. Wide marble steps led up to the terrace, which swept the front and sides. White columns stretched to the overhanging roof, which shaded both porch and second-floor balcony.

Erin tensed as the carriage pulled up in front of the steps. She could see the receiving line waiting at the top: Tyler Manning and his wife, Opal. Opal was this year’s chairwoman, the reason for the ball being held at Pine Tops. No doubt that was Carolyn, their daughter, standing beside them in a flounced white gown. Erin, who hadn’t seen her in years, wondered if she was still haughty and conceited. Fearfully, she asked, “Surely we aren’t going in the front entrance?”

“Well, of course we are.” Arlene’s laugh was forced, because she was every bit as dubious and nervous as Erin but determined not to show it. “What did you think? That we’d sneak in the back way?”

Erin was mortified. “But they’ll know we weren’t invited, and they might not let us in. I thought we’d just sort of drift in and out, not stay long…and, oh!” She pounded her knees with her fists. “I was a fool to let you talk me into this.”

Arlene crisply reminded her, “You had no choice. And you’re overreacting anyway. It’s not as if I don’t know the Mannings, as well as almost everybody else that will be here, for that matter. Zachary might be a heathen and never darken the door of a church, but
I
try to live a Christian life, and I’ve met these people either through church or charity work. I consider them my friends, even if I’m not on the invitation list for their parties. Now just relax and be yourself. Act as though you have every right to be here, and no one will say a word.”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of!”

“It’s the only way to introduce you to Richmond society, Erin. We have to let everyone know that you’ve reached a marriageable age, and the only way to do that is for you to dazzle them here tonight.” She flashed a spirited smile. “So now, my beautiful daughter, go forth and dazzle!”

It was only with great effort that Erin forced her reluctant legs to carry her up the stairs. Before she was halfway in her ascent, she could see the expressions on the faces of the hosts. First, confusion and bewilderment; then astonishment; and, finally, resentment and controlled anger.

Reaching the receiving line, she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word, but Arlene was the epitome of charm and composure. “Tyler. Opal. Carolyn,” she cooed, grasping their hands in turn. “How wonderful to see all of you again. Erin was so thrilled she arrived from Atlanta in time for your little soiree.” She abruptly whirled away, calling out to someone she knew from church, not about to linger before their contemptuous glares.

Erin was slower, hesitated a fraction of a second too long, and was thus vulnerable to Carolyn Manning’s loud whisper. “You weren’t invited, and you know it! You’re no debutante,” she added with a sneer, turning away as she felt the warning jab of her mother’s elbow in her side.

Erin was well aware of the young men turning to stare appreciatively as she followed her mother inside the grandiose house. She ignored them and turned her attention to the lavish decor. There seemed to be an overabundance of everything—furniture, sculptures, paintings, crystal, gilt—as though the Mannings were desperate to display their wealth.

All around, the ladies were conspicuously gowned and bejeweled, striving, it seemed, to flaunt every precious gem in their collections.

They accepted champagne from a white-gloved servant who looked hot and uncomfortable in a red velvet coat and black velvet trousers.

Arlene led the way to the ballroom, with its waved parquet floor and mirrored walls reflecting myriads of flickering tallow candles that other servants were just beginning to light.

A string ensemble was playing in one corner, and along one wall were banquet tables filled with sumptuous foods. Beyond the French doors opening onto the rear terrace, the huge fountain had been transformed to offer a steady stream of bubbling champagne which flowed over the strawberries lining the bowl. Already, young girls with hopeful suitors hovering were giggling, becoming tipsy.

“Isn’t it like something from a fairy tale?” Arlene breathed in awe. “I’ve never been to a party so lavish.”

Erin felt a wave of pity, as well as guilt over having protested attending. The sad truth was that her mother had probably never been to a ball, or even a tea party, in her entire life. Oh, there’d been attempts to be accepted, always ending in heartache. She could remember the occasion of her tenth birthday, when her mother had planned a gala event, even engaged a traveling circus to perform on the lawn. Couriers were sent to hand-deliver invitations to every prominent family within a thirty-mile radius that had children in the household. But nobody came. So, for her mother’s sake, she made up her mind then and there to endure the evening and to pretend, at least, to have a good time, as long as she didn’t have to indulge in flirtatious contrivances, as she noted the other girls were doing.

Arlene was delighted as Erin easily became the center of attention. The unmarried men flocked about her, begging for introductions, the opportunity to bring her more champagne, asking for dances later on. She truly was a beauty.

Despite herself, Erin was starting to enjoy the ball. Thrilled by the contagious gaiety of her would-be swains, she couldn’t help but be dazzled by so much attention and beguiled by the romantic and lovely music, the wondrous ambience. Her emotions were displayed in her shining eyes and radiant smile.

Erin wasn’t aware of the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood watching her from the shadows of the side terrace.

Ryan had sought escape, tired of coquettish girls who disregarded the fact he was engaged to one of their friends as they clamored for attention. Keith, he was relieved to note, had apparently fallen in love on sight. He and the young lady of his choice seemed to have paired off for the evening. So Ryan had fled to the deserted terrace, willing his boredom to hurry and end, but suddenly found himself fascinated by the tall, tawny beauty who seemed to have mesmerized every male in attendance. He couldn’t figure out who she was, couldn’t remember ever having seen her at any social gathering. But having been away so long, he’d lost touch. He’d even had difficulty in some instances recalling the names of neighbors he hadn’t seen in a while. But, regardless, he knew there was no way he would have ever forgotten one so lovely.

There was also, he noticed, something startlingly different about her. He could tell by the sparkle in her eyes and the way she laughed so easily that she was enjoying herself. Yet the undercurrent of tension and desperation present in the other debutantes, as they sought to bewitch the beaux of their choice, was missing. It was as though she had not a care in the world.

As Ryan continued to observe the raven-haired lovely, Keith appeared at his side. He’d been searching for Ryan, wanting to extol the qualities and charm he’d discovered in Miss Mary Susan Hightower. But Ryan seemed preoccupied. Keith followed his gaze, a frown creasing his forehead as he discovered the reason. He’d overheard Mary Susan and Carolyn Manning whispering furiously about the brazen appearance of Erin Sterling and her mother. With an exaggerated sigh, he airily declared, “Well, I guess I was wrong in thinking there’s no such thing as a ball for potential mistresses. Seems Erin Sterling is turning this into one.”

Ryan looked at him then and sharply asked, “What do you mean? Who is she, anyway?”

“Zachary Tremayne’s stepdaughter. That says it all, doesn’t it? She’s no debutante. She wasn’t even invited. She and her mother just barged in, hoping, no doubt, to find her a husband. But they’re wasting their time. The only thing the men are thinking about is a quick tumble in a hayloft. They know they’d be disinherited if they dared court such trash. Like I said, she’s turning this into a ball for those looking for a mistress, because that’s all she’s good for. Granted, she’s beautiful, and I wouldn’t mind—”

“Trash?” Ryan echoed curiously, cutting him off. “Why on earth would anyone think of her as trash? What’s she done?”

“Why…nothing that I know of.” Keith shrugged, unnerved by his question, then recovered to snap, “Come now, Ryan, you know what an unscrupulous bastard Tremayne is. America banned slave trading from Africa and the West Indies over ten years ago, but he’s still into it, and everybody knows it. They say he makes regular runs into the Carolinas to buy slaves illegally smuggled in, then sells them to plantation owners farther south. He’s making a fortune.

“I’ve got nothing against owning slaves,” he airily continued. “Goodness knows, I’ve got my share, but I also got them honestly.”

Ryan couldn’t resist a wry grin. “Maybe you’re angry because you paid more for them on the block than if you’d bought them privately from Tremayne.”

Keith stiffened with indignity. “That’s not so.”

Returning his gaze to Erin, Ryan probed, “Do you know her personally?”

He shook his head. “I used to see her in church with her mother, but that was a long time ago. I think she went away somewhere. One thing is for sure, she’s made a lot of people angry tonight, and you can believe those drooling young men are going to catch hell from their parents for wasting time fawning over her instead of doing what they came here to do—look over this season’s crop of debutantes.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, she’s not only gorgeous. She has the ability to make them enjoy themselves. There’s none of the stuffy demureness and artificial charm the others ooze with. I’d say she seems to be the most appealing woman here.”

“But class is what it’s all about, my friend, and you’d be wise to keep your observations at a distance. Victoria Youngblood would sooner invite that strumpet you had in your bed last night to tea, than walk on the same side of the street with a member of Tremayne’s family. Now I think I’d better get back to Mary Susan. The dancing is starting.”

He went back inside, but Ryan stayed where he was, even more fascinated than before. If Erin Sterling had indeed dared to show up without being invited, then there had to be a good reason. And, since she also had to be aware of the low esteem with which her family was regarded, then she’d realize not one of the eligible bachelors attending would seriously consider courting her.

What, then, was her motivation?

Could it be that she was actually searching for a wealthy paramour in the only way she knew how?

He intended to find out.

With a faint smile teasing the corners of his lips, he remembered he just happened to be seeking to fill such a position himself.

A persistent young man named Carl Whitfield was standing next to Erin as the dance music began. Before she could protest, he exuberantly grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the center of the ballroom floor, where men and women were lining up in two opposing lines to do the fast-paced reel. She hadn’t planned to participate but found herself caught up in the excitement, started clapping in time to the music, having a wonderful time—till a waspish voice said, “You’ve got your nerve! Barging into my home uninvited and then throwing yourself like a hussy at all my male guests!”

Erin whipped about to see it was Carolyn Manning who had spoken, her face flushed with rage. Several of the girls behind her were also glaring furiously.