The Flame and the Flower (51 page)

Only half listening, she shrugged her shoulders as she searched the room for Brandon. She found him standing with a group of men and Louisa nowhere in sight. But where had he been when she had looked for him several moments before? She had not been able to find him or Louisa, and their disappearance disturbed her. What if he had found the sight of Louisa's bountiful bosom more than he could bear and had taken her outside for a few fevered caresses? She bit her lip as she thought of Brandon fondling Louisa and a dull ache crept into her heart.

"What's troubling you, Tory?" Jeff inquired softly. "You don't appear to be enjoying yourself."

She managed a smile for him. "I'm afraid I've been bitten by that friend of yours, the green monster. I find I really can't ignore Louisa as I thought I could."

He laughed softly as his eyes shone. "So you love him then?"

"Of course," she replied. "Was there any doubt?"

"Oh, some," he smiled. "I would have guessed that once you hated him."

Her head snapped up in surprise. "Whatever made you think that?"

His mouth twitched with amusement. "Oh, I don't know. Just a passing thought, I suppose."

When the last strains of the melody were fading from the hall Jeff led her back to Brandon who scowled blackly at her as his brother went to find a partner for the next dance. His jaw was set firmly and a muscle twitched in his cheek.

"Did you enjoy learning the waltz, madam?" he inquired sarcastically. "I'm sure you had a most adept instructor. I could not have taught you half so well."

She lifted her nose into the air. "I wasn't aware that you knew how to waltz, Brandon," she replied saucily, though she was not feeling that way.

"Oh? And would you have allowed me to teach you if you had known?" He laughed sharply. "Surely being in your husband's arms isn't half so exciting as being fondled by a strange man."

Heather bit off a sharp retort about Louisa and stood stubbornly silent.

"Perhaps you would care to demonstrate what you have learned." He motioned for the musicians to begin another waltz. "Come, let us see what he has taught you."

He took her by the arm, none too gently, and guided her onto the floor as the strains of the waltz filled the room. They began to dance, slowly at first, almost haltingly, until the rhythm of the music eased their angry tensions and they began to unbend. The haunting chords seemed to entrance them until each was filled with the other's presence, forgetting everything else. They moved with the music and swept and swirled around the hall as the enchanting refrain became a part of them. Heather knew only that his arm was around her and his dark, handsome face above her. He was conscious only of her softness within his embrace, her deep blue eyes before him and the fantastic rhythm that seemed to lead them around the floor as if they were nothing more than puppets on a string.

Gradually the two of them became aware that the hall was silent but for the music and that they danced alone. They stopped and gazed about as if newly awakened and were met with a long round of applause from their guests who had retreated to the edge of the dance floor and had watched their blissful flight in silent awe.

With a laugh Brandon bowed and Heather stepped deep into a curtsy, acknowledging the gracious appreciation of their guests, then Brandon nodded to the musicians and they picked up another waltz. He took Heather into his arms once again and they began to dance as other couples joined them. From the sideline Louisa glared at Heather's back over her glass of champagne.

Having reestablished the tempo of the party, Brandon and Heather left the dance floor and made their way to the refreshment table. Heather accepted the glass of champagne he proffered and saw that for himself he chose a stronger brew. They made their rounds together among their guests and conversed lightly and gaily with them. But as a rigadoon began, an elderly gentleman snatched Heather away. Then one man after another and among them that gay blade Matthew, found his way again to trying his skill on the ballroom floor with her. But Brandon favored few women with that invitation and spent most of his time drinking.

Heather finally pleaded for a rest from her eager partners and found Brandon contemplating the amber liquid in his glass as Louisa hung about his neck, whispering to him how he was being ignored and seeking to console him while she pointed out that his wife spent her time dancing with other men. Heather slowly burned when Louisa raised a triumphant eyebrow and smiled tauntingly at her. Brandon slowly lifted his gaze to his wife's face and his agony was successfully concealed behind a dark scowl. Matt took that inopportune moment to come up behind Heather and place a drunken kiss upon her shoulder. Brandon's eyes filled with rage and excusing himself and Heather, he took her by the arm and escorted her out of the ballroom, through the hall and into the study where he closed the door behind him and sneered at her.

"You seem to be having a gay time, madam. Apparently you enjoy being pawed and petted."

Heather stiffened and her eyes flashed with anger. "How dare you!" she gasped. "How dare you say that to me!"

Setting his drink down, Brandon strode forward, but she stood her ground and returned him glare for glare.

"Your sodden mind deceives you, sir," she spat. "I did but play the gentle hostess and entertained your guests while you portrayed a trembling stud to stand in rut as that fair-haired cow twisted her tail and bared her udders and lowed so sweetly in your ear."

"Oh hell!" he cried and threw up his hands. "You turn on me when all this night I've had to stand and watch you pulled and petted and rubbed against that simpering fop who seeks to prove himself a man by bedding every simple-minded wench who falls his way!"

"Simple minded—Oh!" She could not find the words to reply and spun about angrily, turning her back upon him.

Brandon's whiskey laden reasoning betrayed him and self-satisfaction rode his voice. "So, you cannot face me. You know I speak the truth."

He stepped close behind her and the heady smell of her set his sodden senses reeling and turned his countenance to one of self-pity.

"Why do you do this to me? Why do you turn from me and seek another's caresses? I sit in calm exile, always wanting but never touching, and you let that simpering dandy whom you hardly know console your body with his nearness."

His raging desire overcame his common sense and he grasped her roughly from behind, one hand crushing a tempting breast while the other slid downward over her belly to rest between her thighs, his lips hungrily seeking the bare white shoulder. She gasped in equal parts of anger and surprise at the swiftness of his passion, then whirled and with all her strength, pushed him away, stumbling backward to lean breathless against the desk. Her face burned in embarrassed resentment at the callow crudeness of his ploy.

Brandon stood with his arms spread in amazement at her reaction. Almost pleadingly he spoke.

"What do you have against me? God above, tell me why I must live this monkish existence and then stand aside and watch you whet some other's appetite."

"You fool!" she choked. "You utter raving fool!" She thrust a trembling finger at the door. "Do you think I want—Oh!"

She could go no further and in dejected frustration, flew past him to that portal, but before opening it, she turned and spoke in withering contempt.

"Go on. Go find your mewling bedmate and share your drunken wits with her. You deserve each other."

With that she fled the room, leaving Bandon standing in painful confusion, and hurried toward the ballroom door. Suddenly realizing her flustered state, she paused outside a moment to regain her composure. Nearby Jeff stood conversing with two young ladies and when he glanced up to see her expression and hesitation, realized something was wrong. He excused himself immediately and came to her side.

"What's the matter, Tory? You look as if you've just bitten the devil's tail."

"My vision of the devil is a blonde whore," she said derisively. "How can one man be so blind?"

Looking beyond her to the study door, he laughed softly. "I can guess my brother is being his usual charming, idiotic self again. But come on, princess, don't be sad tonight." He took her hand. "Would you care for some refreshment?"

She nodded and soon found herself with a glass of champagne of which she took a deep sip, raising the glass to her lips with trembling hands.

"You always seem to be near when I need someone to comfort me, Jeff," she murmured when the heady drink seemed to have calmed her.

He laughed. "Yes, around here they call me Saint Jeffrey behind my back."

She smiled, feeling her spirits lighten a trifle with his jest, and he led her by the hand to a quiet corner.

"There are a few things I should explain about Brandon," he said. "Perhaps you will be able to understand him better then. You see, my father couldn't bear to see another man's hands upon Mother, however innocently, and Brandon is realizing he has the same problem where you are concerned. Before he met you, he believed he could control his emotions and felt very self-assured. Having never sampled honest love, he obviously finds himself now at a loss and cannot cope with the emotions you inspire. Believe it or not, Heather, he's a man of strong convictions, and with you he finds he betrays some of these old convictions. You lay bare his soul before him, and he finds himself an entirely different man from what he had supposed. It's a little frightening for a man his age to come awake and find that a mere girl can disrupt his thoughts so completely."

"Is that what I do, Jeff?" she questioned softly.

He grinned. "Honey, you can bet he never troubled himself with a second glance when Louisa danced with other men."

Before he could go on to reassure her, Matt joined them and was in a festive, ebullient mood considerably enhanced by a liberal intake of alcoholic spirits.

"Oh come now, you two. You're looking much too serious for such a gay evening," he admonished. "Heather, my dear, it's apparent your spirits need reviving."

He made a monocle of his forefinger and thumb and peered at her through it, allowing his observing gaze to move from her face to her dainty silk shoes and then back again, pausing a very brief but pleasurable moment on her breasts.

"And Doctor Bishop prescribes more exercise for your condition. And to that end, a brief tour of the dance floor is in order." Presenting his arm in a stiff decorous manner, he smiled charmingly. "Will you accompany me, my most lovely Madam Birmingham."

Out of the corner of her eye, Heather saw Louisa approaching and not wishing to bear the brunt of her jealous jibes, accepted his arm.

Jeff also caught sight of Louisa and understood Heather's decision to dance. The woman stopped to watch the couple whirl away, and he contemplated her narrowing eyes and her tightening mouth as her gaze followed them around the floor. Obviously she didn't take kindly to finding herself no longer the center of attention and almost completely ignored while Heather was nearly fought over for dances by enthusiastic males smitten with her beauty.

From her Jeff's eyes wandered to his sister-in-law. Matt was busily making petting attempts while Heather's hands constantly moved to keep his from making any serious contact. He watched the two of them for a while wondering if he should cut in, then glanced toward the door and saw Brandon standing there, a completely blank look upon his face as he watched his wife in Matt's arms. Jeff realized what an effort his brother was making to appear calm and that he was precariously treading the fine brink of violence.

He wasted not one moment more in making his way to Heather's side. She looked up in relief as he approached but Matt was not grateful at all for the interruption.

"Oh really, Jeffrey, old chap, not again. It's become a dreadful bore not being able to complete a dance with her. Someone's always breaking us apart."

With arms akimbo, the exasperated bachelor watched as Jeff swung his partner away and round the floor. When they were near the open garden doors, Heather looked up pleadingly at her brother-in-law.

"The fresh air does smell inviting, Jeff. Would you think ill of me if I begged for a walk in the garden. I fear I'm rather exhausted from all this dancing."

He laughed. "Your smallest wish is my command, princess."

They escaped to the rose garden outside and strolled along a path away from the house past a tall hedge and to a spot where sweet shrubs scented the air and a large oak spread its limbs to cover the night sky. They were out of sight from the house and only the strains of a waltz drifted softly to their ears. She sat beneath the tree on a wrought-iron settee and brushed her skirts aside in an invitation for him to join her.

"I may stay out here all night," she threatened. "It's definitely more peaceful here than inside."

He chuckled. "What you need, Tory, is another drink, and I believe I fancy another myself. Will you be all right here while I go back and get us some champagne?"

"Of course," she replied with a laugh. "I'm a big girl now. I'm not afraid of the dark."

"You should by now know, Tory," he grinned, "that big girls have more reasons to be cautious of the dark than little ones."

"Oh, Jeff, and here I was beginning to trust you too," she teased.

"Baby, if you weren't Brandon's," he retorted with a gleam in his eye, "you'd be busier right now than you were with Matt."