Wishing For Rainbows (Historical Romance) (6 page)

“Trenton, I have been looking for you everywhere,” she breathed into his ear without bothering to acknowledge Ursula. “It’s been too long darling.”

Trenton mentally cursed at the avid curiosity written on Barbarella’s face. The last thing he needed was to have to contend with Barbarella’s scheming. From the way her hand was sliding suggestively down his arm, she was still determined to try to lure him into matrimony. Last year, he had been drunk and had barely escaped her plot to entrap him. This year, he had no intention of succumbing to her continued dramatic machinations now that matters had been worked out with her father.

“Miss Somersby,” he growled with a glare. He peeled Barbarella’s questing fingers off his arm and took a step backward as he dropped her hand. “I didn’t realise you were here.”

Ursula studied the way the newcomer had plastered herself against Trenton and felt something deep within her crumble. This beautiful young woman was Trenton’s fiancée.

She studied the woman’s perfect, porcelain features and slender curves and felt a pang of jealousy that temporarily robbed her of breath. The woman was stunning, and right now was plastered against Trenton’s side as though she was made to be there. In contrast to the delightful creature, Ursula felt dowdy, plain and completely out of place.

She didn’t dare look too closely at what drove the emotion, but Ursula suddenly hated Barbarella Somersby with all of her heart. It was such an uncharacteristic feeling for her: to hate someone on sight, that she was a little shaken by it. However, there was something cold and calculating in the blonde woman’s eyes that just didn’t seem right, and brought about a fresh wave of discomfort over her engagement to Trenton. A part of her wanted to tear Trenton away from the woman, but she couldn’t without making herself look like a fool. They were engaged after all, and it really was none of her business.

Unsure what to do, Ursula looked at Adelaide but to her astonishment, before she could move to her aunt’s side, Trenton blocked her path.

“I think it is our dance, Ursula,” he murmured in a husky voice that Ursula had never heard before.

The contrast in his voice between the way he spoke to Barbarella, and the way he had just spoken to her was shocking. Ursula glanced at Trenton and then looked at Barbarella. For an engaged couple they didn’t appear to be very affectionate. Unless her eyes were deceiving her, Trenton almost appeared as though he hated his fiancé.

“Ready?” He drawled and held his elbow out when she didn’t move. “It’s our dance.”

A shiver swept down her spine at the blatantly intimate way he was looking at her. It hinted at a much more personal relationship between them than they had.

“Is it?” she croaked, wishing she hadn’t agreed to come to the ball at all now. She looked up when the blonde stepped in front of them, and went cold at the venomous hatred in the woman’s green eyes.

“Are you not going to introduce us, Trenton?” Barbarella asked without taking her spiteful gaze off Ursula.

Trenton frowned at Barbarella. The last thing he wanted was for the two women to become acquainted. Unfortunately, he knew Barbarella well enough to know that if he snubbed her she would make sure she found out as much about Ursula as she could. Not only that, but she would undoubtedly turn her malice on Ursula just to annoy him, and that was something he wasn’t prepared to allow to happen.

“Miss Proctor, this is Miss Somersby. Miss Somersby, this is Lady Enderby’s niece.” He hoped the mention of Lady Enderby would be more than enough to warn Barbarella that Ursula was connected. To his disgust, Barbarella either wasn’t bothered, or was too ignorant to understand Lady Enderby’s social status.

“I take it you are new to London?” Barbarella asked, eyeing Ursula’s gown spitefully.

Ursula’s chin went up, and she lifted a condescending brow.

Sensing trouble, Trenton held his arm out to Ursula. “Time to dance,” he murmured, grateful that the orchestra had just given the signal they were about to play.

As soon as Ursula had taken his arm, he turned toward Barbarella. “I suggest you find your father. Tell him that I wish to speak with him,” he declared in a voice that was as cold and hard as the look in his eyes. “There are several things I need to remind him of.”

They both knew that Barbarella treated her father very differently to the rest of society. He believed his darling daughter to be mild-mannered, well-spoken, with impeccable behaviour acceptable within all social occasions. Everyone else knew she was a spiteful wanton desperate to ensnare herself a husband; someone who could be merciless if thwarted. Her reputation amongst the gossips put her very much in league with Brampton, and it wasn’t undeserved.

He turned to Ursula. “Allow me.” He led her toward the dance floor without a backward look.

Ursula followed him but before she could ask him what that had been all about, the cotillion began and prevented any conversation between them.

“Please be careful this evening, Ursula,” Trenton murmured once he had returned her to her aunt’s side.

“I have no intention of doing anything rash,” Ursula asked. She wondered if he was going to follow her all evening to make sure she didn’t get into trouble. While a part of her was inwardly thrilled at being the focus of his attention, another part of her was starting to wonder whether he thought her completely incapable of taking care of herself.

“I will see you later,” he murmured with a bow.

Ursula watched him disappear into the crowd and then dropped into the seat beside her aunt.

“That should set tongues wagging,” Adelaide declared ruefully.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Miss?” A footman’s voice beside her suddenly snapped her out of her revere. “I was instructed to give this to you.”

Ursula hesitantly took the small piece of parchment he held out to her. “Who by?” she asked as she glanced about them, but couldn’t see anybody familiar.

“The gentleman over there, miss.” The footman nodded to the far corner of the room but, before she could ask him to point to the sender, he disappeared.

She studied the note in her hand for a moment and wondered whether to ignore it. However, curiosity forced her to put her drink on the table beside her and open it.

Meet me in the conservatory in half an hour. I need to speak with you. I will be waiting.

She glanced up and scanned the crowd but still couldn’t see anybody she knew. Her heart raced wildly as she considered Trenton’s last words to her. He said he would see her later. Was this what he had meant? Why hadn’t he signed the note though?

Her thoughts immediately turned toward the flowers. Was the note from her secret admirer? She studied the handwriting but was fairly certain it was not the same as the writing on the cards.

What should she do? Should she go? She glanced at Adelaide. Would she be able to get away from her aunt long enough to at least go and see who it was? She didn’t have to talk to them, just take a look. That led her to think about what she would do if the note wasn’t from Trenton? It would be far safer for her to remain where she was but, if she did that she might never know who had sent her the flowers.

As the minutes ticked by her curiosity grew. Twenty minutes later she just knew she couldn’t ignore it. She had to find out who had sent her the note and the flowers, and wouldn’t settle until she did. If it wasn’t Trenton then she would have to let the secret admirer know that their attentions weren’t welcome.

If it was Trenton – well, she would just have to deal with that situation when it arose.

“We are going to the ladies’ retiring room, Ursula,” Adelaide declared as she stood. “Come along.”

Unsure what to do, Ursula followed. As they crossed the hallway, she glanced at the corridor that led to the back of the house and the conservatory. Trenton’s words of caution rang in her ears. He was right to advise her to be careful. She would be a fool to answer the summons. She could get into all sorts of trouble that could embarrass not only herself, but Adelaide as well. After all, her admirer could be that Sinnerton fellow. Just the thought of being caught alone with him left her feeling nauseous. Not even her connections to Trenton, or Adelaide could save her from a scandal of that magnitude. She would be forced to return to Yorkshire, with shame as her new best friend.

Decision made, she scrunched the note up and tucked it into her reticule to be forgotten for the time being. She was confident she had made the right decision too. Right up until the moment she saw Trenton talking to a luscious, dark haired woman, who was smiling up at him in a rather intimate manner that reminded her of Barbarella. A flurry of hurt swept through her at the way he smiled down at the woman in his arms. Did the man have a mistress as well as a fiancé? The woman in his arms was all too familiar with him as well.

That thought brought a sharp sting of tears to her eyes that she hurriedly blinked away. Engaged or not, he was relishing having such a delectable beauty to himself. Even in the middle of the main hallway, their connection was familiar enough to assure her that they were close friends; very close friends.

Her fingers clenched around the piece of parchment in her hand as her disappointment grew. The note hadn’t come from Trenton. Not if the way he was looking at the woman leaning against his chest was anything to go by. She studied them for a moment and then turned her attention to the people lingering in the hallway. Trenton and the woman’s scandalous behaviour had drawn only a few interested glances, but no outrage or condemnation. It was as though people were used to seeing them together.

Again, another flurry of hurt swept through her and she resolved, right there and then, never to think about Trenton as anything other than a mere acquaintance ever again. Now that she came to think about it, it was ridiculous to consider, even for one moment, that Trenton had been the one to send her the flowers. What she had said to Adelaide the other day was right. He had lived on her doorstep all of her life and had never given her a second glance. It made no sense that he should do so now, especially now he was engaged, and apparently had a mistress too. Ursula eyed the delectable beauty whispering so beguilingly at him, and felt another pang of jealousy sweep through her as she quite pointedly turned away, and resolved not to look at them again.

“I will be with you in a moment,” Ursula declared suddenly as they approached the ladies’ powder room. She ducked inside before her aunt could reply, and took a moment to tuck a few strands of hair back into place while she waited for Adelaide to find her way to the retiring room.

Minutes later, assured that enough time had passed for her aunt to be out of the way, she hurried out of the room. Once out in the corridor, rather than make her way to the ladies’ retiring room too, Ursula headed toward the back of the house where the conservatory was located.

Trenton tried to prise Serena’s questing hands off his chest and shook his head in disgust. The smell of alcohol on her breath warned him she was already in her cups even though the evening was still young. He glanced up in search of his friend Hugo. He needed to get Hugo to take his sister home.

A dark scowl settled on his face when he spied Ursula disappearing into a darkened side corridor that led to the back of the house. The furtive way she glanced around the hall before she headed away from the guests brought forth a blistering curse that made the woman in his arms snigger.

“I say, Trenton, should you be using language like that here?” Serena slurred.

Trenton caught the hostess’ eye, and heaved a sigh of relief when she immediately beckoned to a footman. Once Serena had been taken away to sleep off her stupor, Trenton turned his attention to finding the most important woman in attendance: Ursula.

His anger grew as he followed her toward the private quarters at the rear of the house. Unless his imagination as running away with him, she appeared to be going to meet someone. Determined to thwart whatever was plans she had, he marched forward and slipped into the darkness of the conservatory behind her before the door closed.

“What do you think you are doing?” he growled as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, effectively blocking her exit.

Ursula squealed and spun around so quickly that she became unbalanced. Trenton hauled her against his chest before she could fall, and pinned her there with a vice-like grip that warned her she was going nowhere until he had some answers. Their eyes met and held. Before she could push him away, his head began to lower toward hers. Her breath hitched when he paused for a moment. His eyes searched hers as though he was looking for something. There was nothing she could do except wait to see what he was going to do. Her heart hammered in her throat as, after that brief moment of hesitation, his head began to lower again.

To Ursula nothing else existed but the man now wrapped around her. The hot sweep of his breath against her cheek made her shiver, but she couldn’t pull away. She remained where she was, hypnotised by the haze of sensation that shimmered between them. This was Trenton, the man who had owned her dreams for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t deny him.

A soft whimper escaped her when his lips brushed hers. Once, twice, they dipped and searched softly for several moments before settling more fully against hers. Capturing her sigh, she felt the tight band of his arms sweep around her waist, drawing her closer. That simple action seemed to answer the call of something deep inside him because the pressure of his mouth increased and in doing so forced her mouth to open to him; to surrender everything to his mastery.