Кейси Майклс – Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight (страница 44)
IF ONE MORE Lord So-and-so put his hand where it didn’t belong, by God, she would lop it off and laugh while blood pooled on the ballroom floor.
Katherine faced her partner and applauded the orchestra, imagining the satisfaction of drawing her cutlass from its new hiding place in her skirts and showing the lecherous rat how much she appreciated his groping.
The stifling ballroom air cloyed her lungs as desperation began to set in. All her flirtations and imprisoning dresses were going to be for naught. There were bodies everywhere—tall ones, short ones, slender ones, plump ones. Male ones. If opinions could be swayed by “accidentally” touching her breasts, she would have little to worry about tomorrow. But the truth of the matter sat cold and indigestible in her stomach.
“You’re a splendid dancer,” the latest Lord Whatsit told her, steering her through the crowd by her elbow as the orchestra struck up another tune. “Splendid!” For all she knew, he didn’t have any influence at all. But he did have a fascination for her cleavage.
What would he think if he knew that a foot below, her cutlass hung inside a secret opening in her skirts? How gratifying it would be to introduce the two of them and rid him of that sickly smile.
“Allow me to bring you some punch,” he suggested eagerly.
“I’m not thirsty.” She could find the punch herself—just as soon as she located Phil and Honoria and asked whether committing murder would be a strike against her with the committee. Judging from this crowd, she would find them sometime tomorrow.
Suddenly a hand wrapped around her arm, and Captain Warre materialized at her side. “Excuse us, Denby,” he said. Excellent—perhaps he would challenge this imbecile to a duel.
Lord Whatsit backed away with a startled bow. “Of course. A pleasure, Lady Dunscore.” His eyes weren’t on her breasts now. She nearly smiled.
“You look pale,” Captain Warre told her.
She was more glad to see him than she would have wanted to admit. “One can scarcely breathe in here, and I’m dying of thirst.”
“We can’t have that.” He shoved a mostly full glass of red wine into her hand. Hardly a thirst-quencher, but she drank deeply anyhow. A drop of liquid clung to the glass where his lips had touched it, and a tingle awakened low in her belly as she drank. “I know where we can escape the crowds,” he said, and navigated her through the milling hordes.
“Have you found out anything?” she asked.
“A little.” He guided her out of the main ballroom and into a second, equally crowded, side room off which branched a large connecting hall, from which stemmed several smaller passageways. By the time they started down one of these, they were alone. “We can find privacy here,” he said. His hand stayed on the small of her back even though the crowd was gone. Several doorways opened on either side of the passageway; as they passed one, she caught a glimpse of a couple intertwined on a couch. Quickly she looked away.
“Here,” he said, and let her walk ahead of him into a small, empty salon. Behind her, the door shut with a solid click.
Across the room a pair of French doors leading outside stood ajar, and a waft of night air reached her. She inhaled deeply for the first time all evening. “Finally,” she said, “I can breathe.”
He took the glass from her hand, drained the wine she hadn’t finished and reached to set it down on a tiny marble-topped table.
“These disgusting imbeciles,” she fumed. “Tonight is nothing if not a waste, and a detriment to my feet—never mind my dignity. I don’t even know who half of these men—” Captain Warre’s mouth came down on hers before she could finish the sentence.
—are.
His tongue swept past her lips and parried fiercely with hers—hot velvet demanding a response—and whatever she’d been thinking about her dignity vanished. He tasted of wine and power, smelled of spice and sin. She put her hands on his chest with no thought for her cutlass and found rock and fire beneath her palms.
His hands framed her face, skimmed down her neck, cupped her shoulders. Found her breasts. This was no accidental grope. And when his hands closed around her, she had no thought of lopping them off. She heard herself moan. Felt herself succumbing like a drowning man to the undertow. Desire snaked through her deeply. Intimately.
It wasn’t by chance that he’d brought her here. His intention was clear. He would make love to her here, and she would welcome him, give herself to him, and there would be no going back, and then—
She tore her lips away. “You said you had a little news,” she said, breathless.
“Later.” His eyes were the dark green of water churning beneath a storm.
“Now.”
His nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened. She watched him debate whether to comply. “Very well.” Desire roughened his voice. “Hathaway, Edrington and Zagost have all assured me they’ll not support a recommendation against you.”
“That’s three.” And hardly news. She’d expected more.
“There are others.”
“Who?”
“I’ve spoken with all of them. They know where I stand on the matter.”
That was hardly a commitment. The panic that had dogged her since her first night in London returned, seeping through every crack like water through an unsealed hull. “They’re going to vote against me, aren’t they.”
“Not if I can help it.”
She stared at him. What if he couldn’t help it? “Nobody knows me,” she said. “My father’s friends, my old acquaintances—they’ve no reason to support me.” And plenty of reason not to.
“Don’t be irrational. These are reasonable men. They’ll not take this issue lightly.” He bent his head to kiss her again, but she pulled away and paced toward the drapery fluttering in the breeze. Behind her, he exhaled sharply.
“To come to London and attempt to navigate society, when I barely remember my own debut—”
He gave a derisive laugh. “The melodrama returns. Show me the woman who doesn’t remember her debut, and I’ll show you a corpse twenty years in the crypt.”
His sarcasm couldn’t staunch the flow of her fear. Her feet began to move. “What effect did I think I could have? What did I think I would accomplish besides letting all the world witness my humiliation?”
“This is senseless. You’ve already made inroads into society, and I’ve talked with dozens of men. I’m sure I’ve changed more than a few minds.”
But what if he hadn’t? “What if they don’t stop with pains and penalties?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
“What if they press charges against me?” She paced by him to the fireplace in a panic, her fear in control.
“You are not a pirate, and there will be no charges.”
“The questions people ask me—”
“Impolite, certainly, but reflecting a curiosity that works to your benefit.”
“The conversation we overheard, the invitations—”
“Katherine, stop.”
“The odds that they’ll decide to let me keep Dunscore without any conditions—”
“Stop.” This time he grabbed her arm as she walked by. She jerked to a halt and shot her attention to his face.
Please help me. Please do something. She couldn’t beg for help. She wouldn’t.
“It’s too soon to give up,” he said. “Which isn’t to say there’s anything easy about surrendering your fate into someone else’s hands—especially when you’re used to being in command.” His voice was low and calm. It filled the cracks in her resolve like soft tar. Oh, God—she was staring at him the way he must have stared at the Possession’s hull as he’d floated in the water.
“No. No, it isn’t easy,” she said woodenly.
“You’ll have to be cautious about what you tell the committee. You mustn’t lie—”
“Of course.”
“—but you should be...prudent.”
Prudent. A hundred unanswerable questions crowded her tongue. He stood there like Gibraltar, strong and constant, and the desire to be in his arms again nearly overwhelmed her. Instead, she paced toward the fireplace. She’d promised herself she would not lean on him. She needed to say something to distance herself, but now her tongue felt leaden and all she could think was, Please tell me it will be all right.
“What will they want to know?” she asked.
“Everything, no doubt. Things they have no business knowing.”
“And I risk their disapproval if I refuse to answer, as well as if I tell them what they want to know.”
“Unfortunately. Except...”
She spun back. “What?”
His brows were furrowed, and he watched her with troubled eyes. “There’s more than mere high seas drama to your story, Katherine. I would never suggest that you exploit your unfortunate circumstances, but if it would elicit even a small measure of sympathy from the committee members to remember that you were just a girl, and—”
“You want me to describe my capture.”
“It might be helpful.”
“And my captivity.”