Just Wicked Enough Page 14

  Sweet was not a word she’d ever associated with Falconridge.

  “He’s looking for a quick path to my bed.”

  “Considering how handsome he is, I think I’d drop rose petals along the way to ensure he doesn’t get lost.”

  “Passion isn’t enough for me, Jenny. I’ve known love. I desperately want it again.”

  “You can’t force it, Kate. Besides, if you let him in your bed perhaps affection will develop more quickly.”

  “I can’t imagine physical intimacy when the heart is but an observer.”

  “You read far too many romance stories. They’re not real, Kate.”

  “Well, they should be. A woman deserves a man’s undying devotion.”

  “I believe we’ve had this argument before.”

  “And I always win.”

  “You do not!”

  Kate smiled. She always felt so much better after spending time with Jenny. “Were you able to get to the jewelers for me?”

  “Oh, yes.” Jenny popped up and went to her jewelry box. “It doesn’t have the family crest or anything on it.” She handed the ring to Kate.

  It was a heavy ring that looked as though the gold had been braided into it. In some places it was worn and Kate wondered how many of his ancestors had rubbed their fingers over it.

  “Won’t he be surprised when you give it back to him?”

  “I’m not sure I will.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “I’m not certain he’d want me to know that he sold it. He has a great deal of pride, perhaps too much. I’ll have to wait until our relationship is such that he won’t be offended that I not only know what he did but that I took it upon myself to reclaim it.”

  “Marriage sounds like a complicated thing.”

  “You’ll discover it all soon enough. How are things with your duke?”

  “He’s coming as Sir Walter Raleigh. Shall I let him sweep me off my feet?”

  “Do you ever hear from Ravensley?”

  “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “That’s hardly an answer.”

  “He won’t be here tonight so it doesn’t matter. Jeremy is coming as a Wall Street banker. He’s almost as boring as your husband.”

  “I suppose it would be more interesting if my costume were that of a banker.”

  “You could be a banker for real, considering the terms Father agreed to.”

  “Oh, Jenny. Where would I find the time? You have no idea the amount of work involved in overseeing the estate of an aristocrat. Do you know we have special rooms and china to be used only when royalty visits? Can you imagine the queen sitting at my dining table?”

  “I daresay Mother would have it written up in the New York Times. She’d be the talk of the city.”

  “It would please her, wouldn’t it?”

  “Beyond measure.”

  “I’m surprised Mother and Father went to the seaside again. They were there only a few weeks ago.”

  “I’m not sure she’s well, Kate.”

  Kate felt her heart lurch. “What do you mean?”

  She watched, stunned, as tears welled in Jenny’s eyes. “Father has been pressing me to accept the duke’s offer of marriage. It’s not like him to be so anxious to be rid of us. He wants me married before summer’s end.”

  “Mother doesn’t look ill.”

  Smiling, Jenny wiped the tears from her eyes. “Perhaps I’m wrong then. Let’s hope so, shall we? Now, come along. I don’t want to be melancholy tonight. I want to have fun. That’s the reason I’m dressed as a harem girl. Now I just have to find my sultan.”

  “I’m having a difficult time believing you invited Hawkhurst’s sister,” Kate said. A good many of the guests had arrived. Once the music began playing, Jenny had dispensed with greeting guests and had begun dancing with one gentleman after another. She’d finally decided to sit one out so she could visit with Kate.

  “Jeremy asked me to include her,” Jenny said.

  “That’s interesting. Do you think he fancies her?”

  “It’s difficult to tell with Jeremy, but since Caroline has a questionable origin, Mother will never approve of her.”

  “It would be refreshing if one of us married whom we wanted without worrying about Mother’s approval.”

  “I doubt it’ll be me. I’ll let Jeremy know that we’ve elected him to be the rebellious child.”

  “Who is the guest wearing the mask?” Kate asked. It was difficult to tell much about him because he wore a hooded cape pulled up over his head so she couldn’t tell his hair’s color.

  “Dumas’s man in the iron mask, perhaps.”

  “I don’t recall seeing him when we were greeting guests.”

  “He must have slipped in after the dancing began. Obviously he didn’t read his invitation closely enough as I specifically indicated it was a costume ball not a masked ball. I like to see who I’m dancing with. Perhaps he’s your husband.”

  “No, he doesn’t move with the grace of Falconridge. I’m beginning to think he’s not coming.”

  “Have a little faith, Kate. He’ll be here.” Looking away from Kate, Jenny smiled. “Speak of the devil, although I thought you said he wasn’t coming in costume.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Interesting. So chain mail is his usual attire? Around the house and around town? To bed as well? Oh, that’s right. You don’t know yet…”

  Kate jerked around to confront her sister and ask what in the world she was babbling about, but the words froze on the tip of her tongue at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered man descending the stairs into the ballroom with all the pride and noble bearing of a king. Kate didn’t know all the proper terms for a warrior’s clothing. The chain mail was visible on his arms, its hood gathered around his neck. A white tunic with a red cross covered his upper body. He wore tight britches and gleaming black boots. Kate didn’t think his outfit was an authentic rendering of a knight’s costume, but it was close enough to please her.

  “You know, Kate, I could be completely wrong, but it certainly looks like a costume to me,” Jenny prodded.

  “Will you be quiet?”

  “He’s really quite remarkable, isn’t he? I can’t believe you aren’t welcoming him into your bed.”

  “Will you please hold your tongue?” Kate’s voice was raspy, and she sounded breathless. Seeing Falconridge dressed like a warrior was almost as unnerving as having him watch her bathe. Not to mention he’d gone to an inordinate amount of trouble—her husband who abhorred costume balls.

  He came to a stop before them and bowed slightly toward Jenny. “Miss Rose.”

  “We’re related now. You may call me Jenny.”

  He nodded as though he were having as difficult a time speaking as Kate was. He shifted his attention to her. “Must you stare as though you’ve never seen me before?”

  “I thought you weren’t going to wear a costume.”

  “I thought you wished for me to.”

  “Well, I did, but you seemed to detest the very idea.”

  “What I detest is not of consequence.”

  “So you don’t wish to be in costume?”

  “Of course, I don’t wish to be in costume—must we continue along this path of conversation that will only serve to prick your anger?”

  “Of course, we’re free to change topics, but, pray tell, who exactly are you?” Jenny asked.

  Falconridge seemed even more disgruntled. “Arthur or Lancelot, whichever my lady wishes.”

  Jenny seemed far too pleased. Kate was baffled. She never told him which costume she finally decided to wear. “How did you know—”

  “Your maid. I thought to wear armor but to dance in it would be impossible. I daresay it will be difficult enough as is.”

  “I suggest you find out, my lord,” Jenny said. “A waltz is about to begin. Are you in need of a partner?”

  Kate felt an unexpected spark of jealousy. Was Jenny flirting with her husband?

/>   Falconridge looked at Kate, a quick flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Is your dance card already filled?”

  Suddenly she found herself very pleased that he’d gone to such trouble for her. He was trying, bless him. He was trying. Whatever she wanted, he seemed willing to do. Smiling, she shook her head. “Of course not.”

  “Then will you do me the honor—”

  “Yes,” she said quickly, not needing him to finish. “I’ve never danced with a king.”

  “’Tis only pretend, my lady.”

  “Sometimes that’s more than enough.”

  With a slight bow, he extended his arm. She placed her hand on it and allowed him to lead her on to the dance floor.

  “Is the chain mail heavy?” she asked.

  “Not too bad.”

  She had a feeling he wouldn’t tell her if it was. “Wherever did you find the costume?”

  “In an old trunk. I remembered my father once dressing up for a ball…it seems rather silly to me.”

  “I love costume balls. We have Nelson and Wellington, a couple of Caesars…Wouldn’t you have felt self-conscious not wearing a costume, when everyone else is?”

  “As I descended the stairs, I noticed young Jeremy Rose isn’t dressed in a costume,” he said, sounded disgruntled, avoiding her question.

  “He’s an investment banker.”

  He scowled. “Perhaps I should have come as a duke.”

  “I like that you came as Arthur…or Lancelot.” She tilted her head and smiled. “I think the ninth dance is a waltz. I think I should like to dance it with Lancelot.”

  “If it pleases you.”

  “It would immensely.”

  He smiled warmly at her, clearly taking satisfaction in her words, and she thought tonight she might do a good deal more than dance with him.

  She might tell him her favorite color.

  The dance ended much too soon. It surprised her that she was so sorry to see him leaving her after he escorted her from the dance floor with the promise of returning for the ninth dance. She didn’t know why husbands and wives didn’t spend more time together at affairs such as this, why there was a reason to socialize with others. It was quite bothersome to be required to mingle when all she wanted to do was find a quiet corner, away from the revelry, a quiet corner that included her husband. The more she came to know him, the more she wanted to know him.

  Next she danced with her brother.

  “I can’t believe you’re so unimaginative,” she chastised.

  Jeremy smiled, the smile of a man who is not easily intimidated. “We’re a little old to be playing dress-up.”

  “We’re never too old to have fun.”

  “A lady’s fun could be a man’s torment.”

  She scowled. “Lord, but you’re as bad as Falconridge.”

  “How is marriage, dear sister?”

  She shrugged. “I’m growing accustomed to it.”

  “Does he treat you well?”

  There was a seriousness to Jeremy’s expression that surprised her. He was eight years her senior. He had a casual, carefree mien, and yet she suspected he also possessed the ruthlessness and cunning that had made her father such a success in the business world.

  “And what if he doesn’t?” she asked.

  “In Father’s absence, he would answer to me.”

  She knew he was terribly protective of women. He’d been Louisa’s champion when Hawkhurst had compromised her.

  “And what would you do? Punch him as you did Hawkhurst?”

  “If necessary.”

  “I wonder if he’d fight back,” she mused aloud.

  “Would you want him to?”

  “Sometimes…” She shook her head. How to explain? “Sometimes I wish he’d just tell me to go to the devil. I can be difficult and he only grits his teeth. Everything is done for my pleasure.”

  “I thought that’s what women wanted.”

  “Quite honestly, I’m not sure what I want anymore.” She sighed. “So Jenny tells me you insisted she invite Caroline.”

  “Poor girl isn’t invited to many parties. Most see her as a curiosity.”

  “And what do you see her as?”

  “Intriguing.”

  “Mother would never approve of your association with her.”

  “I’m not going to marry her, Kate.”

  “Who are you going to marry?”

  “I’ve not given it any thought.”

  While females thought of little else once they were old enough to realize they were expected to marry—and marry well. Men had such easy lives.

  “I hope you’re cursed with a dozen daughters so you have to give marriage a great deal of thought in later years.”

  Jeremy laughed, his smile bright. “I plan to marry a woman with the good sense to give me sons. I suspect your husband is hoping the same thing.”

  “It’s not a hope but a requirement among the aristocracy. They’re a rather demanding lot when it comes to their heirs.”

  “You know wagers are going about as to when your first child will make an appearance.”

  “So I heard,” she said, not bothering to disguise her disgust with that ridiculous practice.

  “I put my money on ten months. Is it going to pay off for me?”

  She very nearly stopped dancing. “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “I believe in taking advantage of opportunity. Besides, it gave notice that my sister wasn’t marrying under scandalous circumstances.”

  “So you’re my champion?”

  “Do you ever doubt it?”

  She shook her head. “But there is a fine line between being a champion and being meddlesome.”

  “He wasn’t good enough for you, Kate.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. She wasn’t going to discuss Wesley, not tonight, not ever again.

  “Tell me true, you’re happy with Falconridge, aren’t you?”

  “I’m content.”

  Unlike her dance with Falconridge, she was grateful when her dance with Jeremy ended, so she didn’t have to answer his probing questions. Even if they were asked with the greatest of intentions, they only served to make her question her acceptability as a wife.

  She wanted what every woman wanted: to be loved, cherished, appreciated.

  Would her husband ever love her? Would she ever love him? Was she beginning to have a fondness for him?

  Those questions circled her mind as she danced with the Duke of Pemburton, the man her mother wanted Jenny to marry. She’d expected Pemburton to pepper her with questions about Jenny, but instead he simply smiled, apparently confident he had Jenny’s hand already firmly nestled in his. He was incredibly distinguished, but not very exciting, almost cold, and she wondered if he’d be able to deliver the passion that Jenny so desperately wanted.

  During the eighth dance, she stood near the open doors that led on to the gardens, allowing the cool night breeze to waft enticingly over her warm skin. She saw Jenny dancing with the Duke of Stonehaven. Unlike Kate’s dance card, Jenny’s was always filled and even though her sister left dances blank, she never sat out, except by choice. Her beauty and poise drew men to her.

  Except Wesley had chosen Kate over Jenny. Although, so had Falconridge, but she didn’t delude herself into thinking he’d married her for anything other than money. Unlike Wesley who had openly adored her. He’d made her heart—

  “Hello, dear girl.”

  Kate’s breath backed up in her chest at the rasp of the familiar voice, the cherished endearment, coming from behind her. She’d known this bittersweet moment would come at some time, but she wasn’t prepared for it, hadn’t expected it to be so soon. It took everything within her to hold the tears of loss at bay, to force a smile on her lips as she slowly turned.

  “Hello, Wesley.”

  He took her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “You’re as lovely as ever. I heard you’d married.”

  Nodding, she swallowed hard. “Falconrid
ge. Can you believe it? A marquess.”

  “You deserve a king.”

  She damned the tears that threatened to ruin this moment. “I saw that you, too, had married. Are you happy?”

  “How can I be when she is not you?”

  “So are you related to the king of France? His twin brother, perhaps? Locked away in the Bastille?” Jenny asked the man wearing a golden mask. Just as Kate had immediately recognized the costumed man wasn’t her Falconridge because of the way he moved through the crowd, so did Jenny recognize exactly who he was by his elegant gait. Earlier in the Season, she’d spent far too much time watching his movements. He’d intrigued her from the start. “Or are you simply a man too embarrassed to show his face?”

  “The latter, if truth be told.”

  “You’re not one for always telling the truth, though, are you? I don’t recall sending you an invitation, Ravensley.”

  “Yet another reason why I chose to come as someone being treated unfairly.”

  She scoffed. “You brought your misfortunes upon yourself. Does your sister know you’re here?”

  “No. Louisa is spending far too much time gazing at her husband to notice much else. She seems happy enough.”

  “I think they’re well suited, but that doesn’t excuse your deplorable behavior where they’re concerned.”

  “I couldn’t bear the thought of you marrying him. Now I hear you’re to marry Pemburton.”

  “You’ve been so absent from Society it’s a wonder you’ve heard anything at all.”

  “I have my ways. Is it true?”

  Although she was angry at him for the pain he’d brought Louisa, Jenny couldn’t deny she was grateful to have a moment to speak with him. From the first dance they’d shared at the beginning of the Season, she’d found herself drawn irrevocably toward him. But he was only an earl and her mother wanted her to be a duchess not a countess.

  “In all likelihood he is the one I’ll marry, although he has yet to ask.”

  All she could see were his blue eyes, but it was enough for her to read the sadness and disappointment he felt.

  “Take a turn about the garden with me?” he asked.

  She glanced around—

  “No one’s paying any attention to us,” he said quietly. “We can slip out the back door over here and none will be the wiser.”

  “I’ll be missed. I’m the hostess.”