Defiant Impostor (16 page)

She finally did, in his arms, her laughter muffled in
his coat as she fought to catch her breath, his clean, musky scent enveloping
her. Yet when she felt his embrace tighten around her as they circled slowly to
a stop, she abruptly ceased giggling and looked up at him in surprise, still
light-headed from their exertion. He was gazing at her with a look of such
burning intensity that if she had not already been breathless, she would have
become so.

"You dance . . . wondrously, my love," he
said huskily, his arms like steel around her.

As his gaze fell to her lips and he bent his head,
Susanna thought fleetingly that she should struggle, protest, coyly turn away .
. . something! But then she felt the warm pressure of his mouth on hers, and
all reason fled. Almost in wonder she parted her lips to him, his breath
melding with hers, her knees turning to jelly as his kiss slowly deepened. In
some far recess of her mind she faintly heard a knock upon the door, but she
was so lost in the wonderful sensations sweeping over her that she gave no heed
to the sound. Then Adam's warm mouth was gone and she opened her eyes, dazed.

"What . . . ?"

"Ertha. At the door."

Reality came back into sharp focus and Susanna gasped,
stepping away from Adam so abruptly that she almost fell. He caught her around
the waist just in time, waiting a fleeting instant until he seemed convinced
that she could stand on her own before he released her. Then he called out,
"Come in, Ertha."

Susanna took another few steps away from Adam as the
door opened, wondering anxiously if her hair was mussed, her gown rumpled, her
lips too red, her eyes too wide. What had happened to her wits? How could she
have so easily lost control of herself? She didn't want anyone to know that she
and Adam . . .

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Thornton . . . Miss
Camille," the housekeeper began, appearing curious as she looked from one
to the other.

"It's all right, Ertha," Adam said,
apparently willing to speak for both of them. He gave Susanna a slight wink, as
if to say their secret was still safe with him. "I was just helping Miss
Cary practice her dancing in anticipation of tomorrow night. She needed a partner,
and I seemed to be the only one available."
 
He smiled at Susanna, then added, "Now,
what can either I or Miss Cary do for you?"

"Actually, I wanted to speak with Miss
Camille," Ertha said. "If you don't mind, I thought the girls could
give the floor another polishing. You know how I want everything to look just
right for your guests."

"Of course," Susanna replied, finally finding
her voice. "I don't mind at all. Mr. Thornton and I were already finished
dancing . . . and we were just discussing a possible game of billiards before I
retire for the evening. Mr. Thornton has faced so many pressures these past few
days, I thought a small contest would cheer him." She glanced pointedly at
Adam. "Don't you agree?"

'Absolutely," he said, amused.

"Well, the girls are done cleaning in the game
room now, and I'll make sure they keep quiet in here so they don't bother
you," Ertha said, bustling over to the door which opened into the
adjoining game room. "Forgive me for rushing you, Miss Camille, but we've
got so much to do yet . . ."

As she left the room, Susanna didn't have to look over
her shoulder to know that Adam was right behind her. She could sense his
presence in a disturbing and, though she hated to admit it, compelling way.

"Would you like anything from the kitchen?"
Ertha asked as three housemaids equipped with buckets and mops trooped wearily
into the ballroom. "Something to drink?"

"Wine would be nice," Adam said, speaking for
them again. "Is that all right with you, Miss Cary?"

"Yes. Fine."

"If you're hungry—"

"I'm not hungry."

"Just wine, then, Ertha. Thank you."

The housekeeper nodded and shut the door, leaving them
alone.

"Poor woman," Adam commented with a deep
laugh. "I think she's forgotten how much work a ball can be. Of course it
doesn't help matters when she has the same tasks done two and three times. That
floor will be so polished that your guests might very well be risking their
necks to dance upon it. "

Susanna scarcely heard him as she moved to a window,
gathering her frayed thoughts. It was almost dusk and the game room, with its
heavy velvet draperies, was growing dark. Yet she made no move to light the
candles. She had no intention of remaining here for more than a few minutes.
After what had happened between her and Adam, she could hardly wait to seek the
blessed solace of her room. She had given him quite enough encouragement for
one night, and so unexpectedly—

The sharp flaring of tinder startled her and she turned
to find Adam watching her, the flame from the candle he had just lit
illuminating his face. From the possessive glitter in his eyes, Susanna sensed
with increasing exasperation that he was becoming even more sure of himself and
his ability to win her.

Did he think her such a naive, impressionable girl that
she wouldn't see exactly what he was doing? she fumed as he lit more candles
around the room. That he was trying to seduce her with lies and gallant
actions, appearing the gentleman when clearly he was not? No doubt he even
imagined that after a few more kisses, she would eagerly give him leave to
announce their betrothal. Bastard! Like bloody hell she would!

Infuriated, she decided then and there that she
wouldn't hasten up to her room like some flustered rabbit. She was going to
stay right here and lead him on, just as she had originally planned.

In fact, she wanted to stay! She wanted to tease him
and deceive him, to do everything she could to heighten the illusion that she
had every intention of marrying him. What a shock it would be to him when she
finally told him the truth. She could just imagine the look on his face. Why,
she couldn't wait!

"You know, I just realized I haven't yet
apologized for missing dinner," Adam said, appreciating how large and
lovely Camille's eyes were in the candlelight and how startlingly green, like
bright emeralds. "I'm afraid I overslept. "

"Don't trouble yourself about it, Adam," she
said softly. "You have a very good excuse."

Her direct gaze surprised him, considering what had
just transpired in the ballroom. He would have thought she'd still be blushing
and embarrassed, perhaps even begging early leave for the night. Instead she
appeared composed and in no hurry to retire, which pleased him. Perhaps she had
enjoyed his kiss . . . no, he knew she had. He had felt her soft lips part
eagerly beneath his and her body become like liquid in his arms. Damn, if only
Ertha hadn't come to the door. Who knew what might have happened?

Adam leaned his hip against the oaken billiards table.
"Nonetheless, I hope you can forgive me."

"No apology is necessary," she insisted, her
slim fingers toying with the gold drapery fringe. "I know how tired you
were. I saw you, remember?"

"Yes, I do," Adam murmured, enjoying the
provocative swish of her gown as she walked to the opposite side of the table.

"In fact, I told Ertha not to send anyone for you
so you might get enough rest. I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."
At his raised eyebrow, she added, "I hope that was all right. I was so
worried about you . . . you'd gotten so little sleep over the last few days . .
."

Worried about him? Adam thought with keen triumph.
Obviously he had had no reason to be concerned about his ill-mannered behavior
this past week. If she had been worried, that must mean she was beginning to
care. By God, this courtship was proving easier than he had ever imagined!

"Then I owe you my thanks and not an
apology," he said, gratified by her smile. "I am flattered that you
would consider my welfare. Very much so."

She didn't readily reply, but glanced at the cues
hanging in a walnut holder on the wall. "Adam . . ."

"Yes?"

"I—I have a confession to make."

His heart seemed to skip a beat, his mind racing over
what she might divulge to him. He waited, then, growing impatient, finally had
to urge her, "Tell me what's on your mind, Camille."

Her expression was solemn, which only heightened the
unusual beauty of her features.

"I don't know the first thing about billiards. I
only said that as an explanation to Ertha. It must have been so quiet in the
ballroom when she knocked on the door . . . well, since we were . . ." She
shrugged prettily. "I didn't want her to think—"

"I know," Adam said just as solemnly,
although he had an incredible urge to laugh—not at her discomfiture, but
because she had admitted her clever lie so charmingly.

He had already sensed an innate intelligence in her
from how easily she had absorbed everything he had told her about Briarwood,
but now it was obvious from her confession that she was quick-witted as well, a
discovery that pleased him. He didn't need a bluestocking for a wife, but if
she could hold her own in intellectual conversations, he wouldn't complain. Yet
it was also clear that she still wanted to play their secret game of courtship.
Well, why not, if things were going so well?

He gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I haven't
forgotten our secret."

She brightened immediately, offering him a becoming
smile. "Thank you for understanding, Adam."

"Anything to please a lady," he said, walking
around the table to be closer to her. "A most beautiful lady." It was
so strange, this feeling inside him. He seemed to be inexplicably drawn to her,
in ways that had nothing to do with the revenge that drove him. "Perhaps
you'd like to learn how to play billiards, my love. If you do, however, I must
ask you for something in return."

"And what might that be?" she asked
coquettishly, her light tone surprising him. Could it be that his shy mouse was
finally opening up to him? And in a seductive manner he could easily become
accustomed to . . .

"I want to hear about your life in Fairford. How
you spent your time. The things you liked to do. I want you to tell me all
about yourself, Camille. The things any woman would tell the man she intends to
marry."

"I shall surely bore you, Mr. Thornton."

"Not at all," he objected, delighting again
in her playful tone. "You could never bore me."

When she didn't answer, a soft rose blush suffusing her
cheeks, he urged her huskily, "Are we agreed, then? Billiards in exchange
for as much as you wish to tell me . . . tonight."

She hesitated another moment longer, then murmured,
"Agreed."

***

The house was dark and quiet when they finally left the
game room, Adam lighting the way with a silver candelabra.

Susanna held on to his hand—only so he might guide her,
she assured herself—taking care with her footing as they passed through the
music room and then into the hall. Two candles had been left burning in wall
sconces near the front door, dimly illuminating the sleepy form of a footman
stretched out upon a pallet. She had learned there was always someone by the
door, day or night, in case of unexpected guests, and she tread even more
lightly for fear she might wake him.

Their billiards match had lasted longer than she had
intended, but all in all, she believed the evening had gone well. She had
achieved her purpose, which was all that mattered. She had fooled Adam
completely and had enjoyed herself while doing so.

The only thing she had failed to do was discover more
about Adam's background. She had told him a lot about life at Fairford, an unsettling
combination of her own personal likes and dislikes and memories with what she
knew of Camille's. But whenever she had asked him any questions about his own
past he had' veered their discussion right back to her. It was obvious he
didn't want to reveal much of himself.

At last she had given up. It didn't matter if she knew
anything about him or not. He would be out of her life soon enough. She had
resolved not to bother him with such questions again.

"Careful on the stairs," Adam said, holding
the candelabra higher. "I don't want you to twist an ankle before you can
show off the dance steps you learned today."

You can wager I won't twist my ankle, Susanna thought
rebelliously, although you'll wish I had when you see all my handsome dance
partners. Anticipation rippled through her, the kind she knew would prevent her
from getting much sleep tonight.

She could hardly wait to meet everybody, though she
knew she mustn't appear too eager. At least not at first, and not with Adam
around. But when she began attending social gatherings throughout the
Tidewater, it wouldn't be long before she could act like herself again.

Would she meet her future husband tomorrow? she
wondered as they moved down the hall to her room. Oh, please, she hoped so. She
wanted things to be settled, to be able to get on with her life and be free of
this intolerable man—

"Here you are, my love," Adam said, his voice
low as he pushed open her door.

Susanna waited impatiently just outside the threshold
as he stepped into her room and set the candelabra on the bedside table. She
had no intention of entering until he was in the hall again, and she doubted
that he expected her to. They had her reputation to think about, after all.

She wanted to get their good nights over with as
quickly as possible so she could shut her door and bolt it. He'd made no
advances toward her since the kiss in the ballroom . . . well, except for
standing rather close to her when showing her how to play billiards, his hands
over hers as he demonstrated how to hold the cue. But she didn't trust him. Not
with him sleeping only a few doors away from her.

"Thank you, Adam," she murmured when he
returned to the hall. The light was so dim this far from her bed that she could
barely see him, but from the soft rustling of his clothing she knew he was very
close. She could smell him, too, that heavy, masculine scent that always had
such a strange effect on her. Becoming disconcerted by his nearness and the
enveloping darkness, she moved abruptly to the door. "I had a very nice
evening. I hope we can play billiards again soon—"