Chelynne (11 page)

When at last it was time to complete her hairdressing for the ball there was a great deal of commotion, everyone attending her seeming to have a different opinion. But this once Chelynne was insistent. She wished to have the long heavy masses pulled tightly away from her face and crowning the top of her head with thick curls. She was small beside Chad and would have the elaborate style give her height.

A gown of pale blue was chosen for this first affair. It was sewn with many tiny silver studs, twinkling and shimmering. One blue sapphire in the center of a silver blossom adorned her throat while two tiny sapphire buds touched her ears. A blue ribbon was woven through her curls and, to catch the candlelight and delicately glitter, little silver stones were buried beneath the locks. The gown hugged her youthful figure, letting her full breasts rise and her small waist tempt any man to touch.

She eyed her own appearance with satisfaction, slightly agog at her own striking beauty. She had dressed formally before but never had there been this lift in her heart, this eagerness to please a lover. It was in fact the first time she had ever dressed for a man...and the difference delighted her.

Slightly breathless, she turned and murmured to Stella softly. “Do you think he will find me attractive?”

“Unless he is blind, dear heart,” Stella answered proudly.

Outside her window she could see the torches in the garden being lit. The moon was full and round and the night was beautiful. With pages holding up her train, she took slow careful steps down the stairs. The servants she passed bowed and smiled, their eyes lighting up in appreciation. The moment she had lived for was here. All the poise and charm that had been bred into her would be put to the true test. She was afraid it would all be useless to her now. She had never wanted to please more, but she was frightened half to death. She paused as she reached the ballroom doors and sucked in her breath. She gave a tiny nod of determination to the butler and the doors swung open to admit her.

She had seen this room before, but never had it filled her with fairylike wonder. The elegantly garbed ladies and gentlemen who lingered along the walls, becoming reacquainted with friends, looked her way. There were great tables of food ready to be tasted; impressively uniformed servants picked their way among the guests to replace empty glasses with full ones. In the middle of this tumult stood Chad and his father, waiting for her arrival. They were chatting with one of the women she had met at breakfast, a recent widow of admirable beauty. The woman between them saw her first and stopped her conversation to stare. Then, as if by magic, a hush fell over the room as the earl and Chad looked in her direction. Her eyes were fixed on her betrothed and he stared at her in dumb wonder.

His shocked expression sent her thoughts sailing. He recognized her at once, that much was obvious. Was he pleased? Angry? She smiled at him, an intimate smile she had practiced, but he was barely shaken out of his dismay. The earl made a move to receive her and take her to Chad, but Chad caught the movement and held up an arm across his father and pressed on ahead of him. Breaths were held as he approached her, and when he neared she lifted warm brown eyes to him for the merest instant and then dropped into a deep curtsy, holding her gown back with her hands.

When she rose his hand was extended to her and she placed hers trustingly in it. After placing a kiss on its back he held it high above their heads and led her into the ballroom, presenting her to the guests. He raised the other hand to the orchestra that stood ready; the first note was struck, and Chelynne and Chad led the dance. They touched with only fingertips and eyes, yet her entire being was filled with his presence. She glided as he would have her, dipped when she should, every movement unconscious, spontaneous. She was aware of nothing but him.

With another wave of his arm, those who stood and watched joined the dance and she was swept away in a dream, his light touch burning her. She paid no heed to his direction and would not have argued if she had been more aware. They came to pause near the glass and iron door leading from this grand ballroom to the gardens. A handy and almost invisible footman opened the doors automatically, closing them softly behind the young couple.

The brisk night air brought Chelynne out of her state and into full awareness. She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “Did I keep you waiting long?”

“It was worth the wait.” He ran his eyes over her slowly. “You played me false, madam.”

“It was not my intention, my lord. I tried to explain but you would not hear.”

“You didn’t try very soon,” he admonished.

“It was your reluctance for your bride,” she confessed. “I couldn’t resist...Was I so wrong?”

He laughed a little awkwardly, never taking his eyes off her. “So, you’ve managed to learn a little of me without my knowing. Beware, madam, from now you will know only what I choose to tell you.”

“Then you are angry,” she said softly. “I was afraid you would be.”

He lifted her chin with a finger so he might study again the face. Tight-lipped indeed! Gwendolen had so badly slandered her beauty that the act could only have been wrought from jealousy. He saw in the moonlight a pale oval face with a slight flush on high cheekbones. The lips were thin but well shaped and parted now in a half smile that begged to be covered and tasted. Though small of stature she was hardly thin. Her breasts rose and fell temptingly with her breath and her waist was tiny. As he immediately judged, it was the perfect size for his hands. As if performing a special test, he touched his thumbs and forefingers together around her waist. Then sliding them lower, he found firm and tender hips and felt there the promise of a wonderful ride. This would be no easy battle. He wanted her at once.

“You’ll find, love, that I am angry in the best of times. I give you fair warning.”

“Will you be a difficult man to live with?” she asked coquettishly, her little head tilted up.

“Of a certain, my lady.”

His expression was cold, that smoky quality gone now from his eyes as they became again that hard, impassive flint. Worried, she turned from him and took a few steps into the garden. She had not thought to bear witness to his reluctance so soon. From his earliest actions she had been filled with hope.

“See here, Chelynne. I’ve no wish to spoil your fun.”

“But you discourage me so,” she murmured. “You did not seem to be a hateful man when first we met.”

He laughed huskily. “Have a care, love. You do me no honor when you pout. I am not as hateful as that.”

“And you are no callow youth,” she said in confusion. She turned to him again, her brown eyes twinkling with the light of the torches. “Indeed, you are much older than I. Old enough to be my—”

“Hold!” he said laughing. “Not quite so old as that, my dear. I am now three and thirty and not yet tottering about with a cane. I can assure you of a few more good years before I wither away.”

“Why then have you never married? Is it not meet that you should give thought to a family?”

He looked directly over the top of her head and she noticed that his jaw set firmly and his temple pulsated. “It’s a matter I should have liked to pursue on my own.”

“Then you will not give this a chance,” she said softly.

“Don’t worry yourself needlessly, my lady,” he said matter-of-factly, with a slight formal bow to keep it distant. She was looking up at him with earnest brown eyes, loving and soft, but he would not meet her gaze. “The contracts are made and I shall not prove too difficult.”

“Yes,” she murmured, though she knew well enough that there was still time to refuse this commitment. She was afraid to tell him that, however. What if he grabbed at the chance to be free of her? She couldn’t bear even to think about that; a young heart is too hopeful. “But if they were not prepared?”

“It would make little difference.” He shrugged. “The earl would bring yet another to replace you.”

“He is that determined to see you wed?”

“It is the very breath in him,” Chad sighed.

“Why then have you not brought a woman of your choice for his approval? Why do you not give him aid and seek to please him?”

“You quibble too much for a woman having naught to say of what I do or why. I think you’ll have the difficult nature in this marriage.”

She laughed softly and he looked down at her. “Of a certain, my lord.” His eyes were glued to her face. She could see them cloud over, taking on that warm and moist quality that meant victory to her, however small. “Is there something you find fault with, my lord?”

That beguiling smile in the darkness did strange things to him. He had such a mixture of emotions, the simultaneous urge to strike her and take her into his arms and kiss her lovingly. But her loveliness eliminated the urge to mark her. Still, bred into him was an instinct for danger, and faced with this gentle beauty he felt as trapped as a cornered animal. “I am too old, Chelynne, to appreciate youth as your husband should.” His smile was mocking, almost cruel. “Your patience will be sorely tested.” He noticed the emotion that swiftly passed across her features. He was pleased to see it was very close to fear. “And what of me?” he asked sarcastically. “Does the manor have fault? Is there enough wealth here to suit you? Have I some unsightly twitch I must curb?”

It was as if she hadn’t even noticed the harsh sneering of his voice. She laughed softly. “And would you change one thing to suit me better?”

“Never!”

‘“Tis well,” she sighed. “I found no flaws but for the stubborn streak. It should prove most burdensome.”

He stepped nearer, wondering how she could stand so calmly, speak so softly when faced with his hostility. She should want to claw at his face or slap him, but there she stood, her lips parted in that delicious half smile and her eyes shining with adoration. He could not gather his good sense, so overpowering was the urge to taste that sweet mouth again. He crushed her to him suddenly, roughly, insistent enough to hurt her. He wished she would be less tractable, strain against him at least and not allow his advances, but she did not. Rather, she complied, molding to him, seemingly pleased with the harshness. Yet she responded and encouraged him softly, her small arms slipping around him gently to hold him ever nearer. She turned the cruelty of his touch to tenderness so easily that he was barely aware of the transition.

“Here now, son. There’s time enough for that.”

The couple broke apart reluctantly to catch the earl on the garden path. “I thought perhaps you would need some persuasion to join us again,” he chuckled. He turned and was gone, thinking that brief interruption would prompt them to cool their ardor and return to the party.

“Tis not your kiss I find fault with,” Chelynne said warmly.

“Be assured, madam. You will find my faults soon enough.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a handkerchief for her. “I might have smudged your paint. Pray put yourself together so that we can join our guests.”

She looked up at him and laughed softly. It was for this very reason that she had not allowed her attendants to apply the lip paint. “I wear no paint, my lord.”

He looked at her again, taking a moment to digest this. Her appearance and, indeed, her taste, were simply and naturally hers. One short tussle with Gwen usually left them both marked. He shrugged, looked her over again, and presented his arm.

Inside the ballroom the earl accepted another drink though he knew he should be careful of the amount he consumed. His spirits were too high to resist the urge to celebrate. He felt success sailing through his veins just as a ship rides the waves. Chad could pretend discontent but his actions spoke loudly for him. The earl greatly envied his son. He was not so old as to have forgotten the force of desire that belonged to the young.

Across the room he could see Gwendolen. She was chatting with Lady Mondeloy and casting frequent anxious glances at the garden doors. When the earl approached that pair she turned on him with some malice. “Shouldn’t you go see about them? It wouldn’t do to have the girl’s reputation sullied so soon before she is wed.”

“I wouldn’t think a few moments alone is out of the question, my lady.”

“Your guests will wonder what holds his interest for so long.”

“I doubt that,” he replied. “Everyone who saw her will know what holds him.” He smiled lazily as Gwen simmered. “And who better to protect her virtue than the man she will marry?”

She snorted and huffed. “I’ve known your son for a good many years, my lord, and protecting a woman’s virtue was never among his more noble gestures.”

“Truly,” he mocked. “Maybe he was lacking a woman whose virtue was worth protecting.”

He turned and walked away, thinking, “There. That felt a great deal better than anything I’ve done in years.” He went then to the terrace doors and as if the whole scene was planned they opened to admit Chad and Chelynne. He bowed over the young woman’s hand with much pomp as Gwen glowered at them from under lowered lids.

The earl’s guests had begun to gather to be introduced and a small line was formed, the earl presenting his guests to his son, Chad in turn passing them along to Chelynne, who found her uncle Sheldon next in line to receive them.

Chad stood relaxed at her side, nodding and accepting congratulations graciously while her beauty was praised. He smiled courteously when it was expected and bowed over old dowagers’ hands with courtly grace. He did not think himself closely observed, but Chelynne watched her fiance’s every move. There was a manner most suave about this man to whom she would be given. His words flowed effortlessly from his tongue in complimentary grace and he smiled easily into the eyes of giggly maids and well-rounded, middle-aged ladies. He carried off this affair as if nothing could fit closer to his own plans. She decided then that his difficult nature was an intended thing meant only for her, but she had no idea why.