Surrender the Stars (23 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Wright

BOOK: Surrender the Stars
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They kissed again, over and over. The sensation of his masculine body pressing her more delicate female form against the wall made Lindsay yearn to mate truly with Ryan. His hardness, fully roused against the fabric of his breeches, tantalized her to the point of torment. When his fingers found the fastenings on the back of her gown and they opened, baring her breasts, tears came to her eyes.

"Oh, God, Lindsay," Ryan whispered, his voice now filled with emotion, "how I want you."

Her head, with its mane of golden-rose curls, fell backward as he lowered his mouth to one ripe breast. Lindsay sobbed when she felt warm lips close over her nipple for the first time in her life. They were sinking in unison to the Persian carpet when a knock sounded at the door.

"Lindsay? Ryan? Are you two in there?"

Lindsay sat up, gasping. "My God, it's Mother!"

"I hear you, and I must insist that you come out," Devon declared in a low, firm voice. "Andre has gone in search of you both himself, and I can assure you that you do
not
want to be discovered by
him!"

"We'll be right there, Mama!"

Ryan sighed as he quickly did up the back of her gown. "Wasn't meant to be, hmm?"

Common sense returned to her in crashing waves. "That, sir, is an understatement!"

Emerging into the library, Ryan and Lindsay saw Devon walking far ahead of them near the staircase. They followed her, preoccupied with common thoughts and feelings, reaching her side at the entrance to the conservatory.

"I'll speak to both of you later," Devon whispered in deadly tones. "In the meantime—"

"Excuse me!"

The trio turned to find a woman of incredible beauty waiting nearby to be recognized. Tall and willowy, she possessed milky-white skin, glossy sable-hued tresses, emerald eyes fringed by black lashes, and a beautiful smile.

Lindsay glanced over at Ryan in the hope that he would speak some words of polite dismissal. Instead, she discovered him staring as if he beheld a ghost.

"Hester," he breathed.

Her smile brightened. Touching his arm with long, slim fingers, she teased, "How reassuring! I was convinced that you'd forgotten me, darling!"

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

June 9, 1814

 

Lindsay stared at Ryan, completely nonplussed by his disconcertion and confused by the situation at hand.

"It's good to see you, Hester," he said quietly, oblivious to the two ladies on either side of him. "Are you well?"

"As well as can be expected after more than six years, my dear. Have I changed?" Hester's sweet voice took on a rather brittle tone as she held a hand out on either side to display her charms. "You have. I confess I didn't believe my eyes at first, but then I heard your voice and... But that's enough for now about the two of us. Do, please, present me to your friends!"

"Ah, yes!" Ryan's dark blue eyes widened. "I would like you to meet my mother, Devon Raveneau, and my sister, Lindsay." Absently, he added in their direction, "This is Hester Moore, Countess of Chadwick."

"Your mother—and sister?" Hester's smile mixed amusement with disbelief. "It's a great pleasure to meet both of you!" She gave Ryan a knowing look. "Why am I not surprised by your sudden appearance in London—and the acquisition of a new family? No, no, don't panic, I won't breathe a word of it. But shouldn't you enlighten me further? Are you not still Ryan Coleraine?"

"No—and yes. For the time being, I am Nathan Raveneau."

"Ah, of course. Well, you know that your secret is safe with me, darling. Waltz with me and we'll discuss this further."

"Hester, you know that we should not be seen together. Enough years have elapsed and I have changed enough so that I do not fear being recognized, but if people see me with you, they may remember. It's critical that that not happen."

"Well, then, come around the corner with me, darling, and we'll put our heads together and see if we can't arrange to meet later on. Francis has already left, pleading illness in that stifling throne room, so I ought to be able to slip away in an hour or less. It's past midnight now, isn't it?"

Lindsay was dumbstruck as she watched the two of them disappear around the corner of the deserted hall. Hester was gazing up at Ryan as if she owned him, one slim hand through his arm. He, meanwhile, seemed to have forgotten that Lindsay even existed, let alone what had just passed between them in the tiny crimson chamber off the Carlton House library.

"Hmm." Devon tapped a finger against her cheek. "I should have foreseen this, I suppose."

"I don't see why!" Lindsay cried. "Didn't he assure us that no one would know him in London? This is unforgivable! This is horrible! It's so very—awfully—"

"Male,"
her mother supplied dryly. Andre came up behind them, then, and Devon turned to assure him that she had found Ryan and Lindsay safe and sound. "They had just retired to have one of their usual arguments," she said in an offhand voice. "However, we may have another matter to concern ourselves with of very real importance. Ryan has just encountered someone from his past, and from the looks of it, this lady does not wish to remain there!"

* * *

Fuzzy from champagne and numb with emotion, Lindsay allowed Ryan to hand her into the elegant carriage that would convey the family home to Grosvenor Square. Her parents followed, the door was pulled shut, and they rolled off down Pall Mall.

"Ryan," said Andre in an even tone, "I don't mean to pry, but I think that the circumstances demand that you explain exactly who the Countess of Chadwick is and what she may mean to our situation here in London."

"You're right, of course." Ryan looked out the window, avoiding Lindsay's piercing stare, and cleared his throat. "Well, there isn't much to say in that respect. I knew Hester quite well when we were both considerably younger. It's no secret that I have a past here in London, but you needn't worry that she will divulge the truth of my identity." Slowly, he turned his head and met Raveneau's eyes in the shadows. "This happens to be a two-way street. You see, I am the conservator of a few secrets of hers."

"I wish you had warned me that this might happen," Andre said sternly.

"As do I—now!" He pressed taut fingers to his brow. "It was hard enough for me to come back here; I couldn't bear to consider the possibility that I might encounter Hester. Her husband's estates are on the northern border, very near Scotland, and I suppose that I expected her to be spending most of her time there by now, tending her children and doing needlework."

Lindsay made a rather rude noise that expressed disgust and disbelief. Ryan ignored her.

"Sir, I did tell you, that first night we discussed all of this in Pettipauge, that I had lived in London and it was possible that I might be recognized."

"That's true...." Andre's expression relaxed somewhat as he thought back. "However, you didn't mention knowing anyone in
this
particular circle of society!"

"That raises an interesting question!" Lindsay exclaimed. "How
did
you become embroiled in a torrid affair with a countess? Were you the cabin boy on her husband's yacht?"

Ryan looked at her for the first time, a glimmer of what might have been pain in his eyes. "How did you guess?" he replied in a tone that was both offhand and sarcastic.

"Well, certainly it's none of our affair," Devon put in firmly. "What matters is the present and the success of the task that President Madison has bade us to perform here in London."

"Of course, you're right," Ryan said, "which is why I must have some time alone with Hester to make it clear to her how crucial her silence is. She will take me at my word without demanding a full explanation. Also, there is one other reason for enlisting her friendship. Francis Moore, the Earl of Chadwick, is a long-standing Tory of enormous influence in the House of Lords. This was so before I left for America, in the days when the Whigs had all the power. Now that the political climate has shifted, God knows what office Lord Chadwick may hold and what he may know."

"And what Lady Chadwick may tell you?" Andre elaborated. "Hmm. Well, it's worth a try, but have a care! You don't want to arouse her suspicions. When will you see her?"

"Tonight, sir, if you'll allow me to use the carriage."

Lindsay barely heard her father's assent, nor did she remember anything else that transpired before she and her parents stepped from the carriage. She was only conscious of the hot flush that burned her cheeks, the pounding of her heart, and the thoughts and questions that clashed in her mind.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what would happen to my reputation if I were seen with you here?" Lady Chadwick whispered teasingly. "On Vauxhall Gardens' infamous Dark Walk, where young ladies venture in peril of being snatched up by amorous rakes?"

"No one will see you." Ryan paused under a willow tree and gave her an irresistible smile. "That's why they call it the Dark Walk. It's very...
dark."

Hester tried not to laugh, then felt her eyes mist. "Nine years. It seems forever... and no time at all." She touched his cheek. "After you left tonight, I nearly convinced myself I'd seen a ghost. I never expected you to come back, Ryan."

"Neither did I," he replied with heavy irony. "Tell me what has happened with you, Hester. Obviously, life has treated you well; you're even more beautiful than the day I sailed from London."

"I've been happy... for the most part. It was easier to adjust once you left and I believed I'd never see you again. Francis has been a good husband; we've made a fine home together. After a time, I reached the conclusion that Father had been right in the decisions he made for me."

"Children?" Ryan asked softly.

"Three. Our daughter, Amanda, is eight. George is six and the baby, Maryann, is two. They're beautiful, Ryan, and they've changed my life. I'm wiser now, I think, and less selfish."

He gazed at her, indulging in a moment's reflection on what might have been, until a tear shone, diamond-bright, on Hester's cheek. Instinctively, he brushed it away with a fingertip and she caught his hand and pressed it to her face.

"Tell me that you love Lord Chadwick," Ryan whispered. "Tell me that he deserves you."

"I love Francis." She nodded, inhaling the warm scent of his hand before she released it. "I do. And, of course, he deserves me! It was I who didn't deserve him in those first years, when he had to share our bed with your ghost! He's a good man. He was patient and gentle, waiting for me to let go of the past and give myself wholly to our marriage. Ryan, he must not know that you are back." She averted her eyes, murmuring, "He knows that my feelings for you were of a... different nature—more intense, if you will—than those I have for him. That doesn't make my love for Francis any less strong, but it's a quieter, more contented strength—"

"You needn't go on; I take your meaning," he said. "And you needn't worry that I'm feeling smug about this. What we shared was too rare for either of us to forget or repeat. I'm glad that you've found happiness in your marriage, Hester. In truth, it's a great relief to me, for now I no longer need agonize that I may have done the wrong thing."

"Have
you agonized? A small, spiteful part of me is glad to hear it. Without such penance, you would really have no right to inquire after my happiness or to look at me in that way that makes me want to cry! And I won't feel guilty that these children are Francis's and not yours. It could have all been different. You had the power to stop it and you would not!"

"Shh." Ryan touched a forefinger to her mouth. "We've been through all this, or have you forgotten? You just told me that you had let the past go, and now that I know you are happy, I can do the same. It's too late now, and there's nothing to be gained from dredging up old arguments except fresh pain."

Hester turned away and returned to the shadowy path. "Before we talk about the curious circumstances surrounding your visit to London, I would appreciate it if you could offer me some reassurance about Francis."

"I am happy to oblige, my lady. I met Lord Chadwick yesterday at White's. Beau Brummell introduced me to him as Nathan Raveneau and he didn't flick an eyelash. He was most cordial, even slightly disdainful, though doubtless he didn't think I'd notice. That last I might ascribe to my new pose as a dandy."

She gave Ryan a sidelong glance. "I'm relieved to hear it, and I'm sure you're right. One of us would have heard about it if Francis had recognized you."

"If you'll recall, my dear, he barely knew me to begin with."

"That's true... and you were ten years younger—and brash," she agreed.

"Exactly. Not some languid buck twirling a quizzing glass and offering him snuff." Ryan smiled and was gratified to see the corners of her mouth turn up in the moonlight. "Furthermore, I'm aware that I've changed in the nine years since I left London. Unlike you, dear Hester, I am not ageless."

"I shouldn't say it, but my innate honesty prevails. You may have changed, Ryan, but only for the better. That's the devil of the thing with men! They don't become truly attractive until their fourth decade. Unless, of course, they weren't attractive to begin with—and you certainly were."

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