Unmasking Sin, page 16
She dragged their joined hands to her cheek, and he couldn’t look away. He felt almost…afraid. A feeling that was so novel, he made no effort to pull free.
“But you haven’t given up,” she said softly.
He stirred. “What makes you think that?”
“The way you are with Captain Dauncy. He was trying to bring up the rumors of your brother, wasn’t he?”
“Only with me.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because he is the officer involved in the plot. And he knows I know.”
“Of course,” she said slowly, clearly readjusting everything in her head to make sense of what she had seen and heard before this moment. “Then, perhaps, eventually, you and I might help each other.”
He couldn’t help the cynical smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Because, just like that, you believe my story? Even though I am bound to be prejudiced in my brother’s favor and have no evidence save a document that he could, in fact, have stolen?”
“But you know him. And it strikes me that the best way to keep the scandal away from your family is to leave everything swept under the carpet as it is now. If you risk that, you must be sure of your ground.”
“And as he would be the first to point out, he is the son of a viscount, while I am a grubby little solicitor, entirely dependent upon my reputation.”
“But everyone likes you better than him,” she said distractedly.
“Do you?” he asked and could have cut out his tongue.
She flushed slightly. “Yes. But I wouldn’t take it too much to heart. The first evening after I arrived, he was all but drooling down my bodice while sneering at the same time.” She must have seen his sudden fury in his face, for she added hastily. “It was only the once. Either someone else spoke to him, or my contemptuous stare is still effective. He more or less ignores me now.”
With an effort, he calmed his anger. “You should have better choices than being disrespected or ignored.”
“I think I have, now. Lady Calvert and her family have been so kind that most people realize I am not some monster in seductive disguise, merely a widow with a son and a sense of humor.”
He couldn’t help smiling at that, and she flushed again. A slight flutter of her fingers reminded him he was still holding her hand. Reluctant to drop it, he used it to draw her to her feet. “So, with the air cleared between us, we should not now be discovered loitering in a compromising position,” he said briskly. “Shall I leave you to play the pianoforte? Or would you rather escape first to your chamber?”
“I believe I shall play,” she said.
With reluctance, he released her hand and turned to sweep up his coat and waistcoat, which he had almost forgotten about. He had spent all this time with her without even being properly dressed. “Then I’ll hope to see you at the ball, if not before.”
He bowed and walked out, though not before he had seen her surprise at his abruptness. She might have been even more surprised if she had seen that after he had closed the door, he didn’t stray very far but stood, leaning against the wall and listening to the sound of her playing.
Then, because she sounded happy, he smiled and went off up the back stairs to his bedchamber.
Chapter Fifteen
Lady Calvert had decorated her ballroom with flowers and flung open the terrace doors to blur the boundary between the outdoors and in. Obligingly, the rain had gone off late in the afternoon, leaving everything smelling fresh, and the sky had cleared in time to dry up the terrace and the garden paths.
The effect was very pleasing, and when Rebecca first arrived, she spent some time sitting opposite the French windows and gazing across the flower-laden ballroom into the garden. It gave her something of the same feeling as sitting alone in Maida Gardens as the music and revelry went on around her.
However, unlike the Maida visits, she would not be repelling anyone who chose to talk to her. And indeed, she was not left alone. Even the most careful chaperones did not appear to mind their daughters sitting beside her and seemed perfectly happy to chat with her. Even more surprising, Sir Neil asked her to stand up with him for the first dance, and the Duke of Dearham partnered her in the second.
“Are you sure?” she asked anxiously as they walked onto the floor for the waltz. “There are ladies of higher rank who deserve your notice more.”
“You are my protection from the matchmaking mamas.” He took her hand and placed his other on her back.
The novelty of being this close to a relative stranger, let alone one as masculine and attractive as the young duke, kept her silent for several moments.
At last, she managed to say, “Then we are protecting each other.”
A startled look passed across his face, and then he smiled ruefully. “I beg your pardon. My remark was not very gallant. The truth is, I regard you as a friend.”
“You have been a good friend to me,” she said sincerely, “and yet I still don’t know why. Your sisters called on me out of the blue, and I know they did so at your request. You have no designs upon my person, honorable or otherwise—”
“I wouldn’t say that,” the duke interrupted.
She decided to ignore that. “If we were ever even introduced, it was years ago and in no more than passing. Don’t misunderstand me, I am grateful for Your Grace’s help on my behalf and Tom’s. I am just curious as to why.”
The duke considered as they danced. Then, “The injustice of your position was brought to my attention. My family has no time for that kind of war by rumor.”
Injustice. She gazed up at him, frowning as the suspicion crept through her, warming, pleasing. And yet, she could not ask him outright.
“Ludovic Dunne told me something of your plight and asked me what I could do. But never think your company has not been a pleasure. We have all enjoyed getting to know you.”
It was an effort to stop herself scouring the ballroom in search of Ludovic Dunne, but she managed to focus on the duke with genuine curiosity. “You are not just the devil-may-care rake people think, are you?”
“Pretty much,” the duke said cheerfully. “With erratic moments of chivalry thrown in.”
As he turned her in the dance, she finally caught sight of Ludovic, standing alone near the French doors. He wore immaculate evening dress without ornamentation. It made him look very severe and very handsome, though his face lightened into a smile as one of the Calvert neighbors stopped by him and thrust out his hand with surprised pleasure.
“He is an unusual man,” the duke observed.
“He is,” she agreed calmly, not even bothering to pretend she didn’t know whom he meant.
“And he is a gentleman.”
“I understand his father was a clergyman.”
“And his grandfather an earl,” Dearham said dryly. “On his mother’s side. His father was the younger son of a baronet. High sticklers may turn up their noses at the younger Dunnes working for their livings, but they’re not above using their talents when it suits them.”
“He does seem quite…at home with people of all walks of life,” Rebecca managed and hastily changed the subject. For although she was not averse to learning as much as she could about him, she felt uncomfortable gossiping. She wanted to learn it all from him.
When the dance with His Grace ended, she moved purposefully toward Ludovic, only to be hailed by the gentleman she had sat beside at dinner and swept off to dance once more. Ludovic was part of the same set, partnered with a pretty young neighbor of the Calverts.
Only after that, with a refreshing glass of lemonade secured, did she finally find him close by, helping himself to a glass of punch. Her heart gave a pleasant little flutter and dived.
“Mr. Dunne,” she greeted him calmly.
He bowed. “Lady Cornish.”
This was the man who had played Mozart and Pachelbel and soulful Italian airs in his shirt-sleeves, who had held her hand and wiped her foolish tears on his fingers and promised to help her. But there was little sign of that man now. He was distant and correct and civil. As they each had to be.
“You are enjoying the ball, ma’am?”
“Actually, I am. I have not danced so much in years and now feel the need to sit one out before I collapse!”
“Allow me to escort you to a chair.”
She inclined her head, and they walked together around the edges of the ballroom. “You asked the duke to salvage my social standing,” she said, getting straight to the point.
He didn’t try to deny it, merely said, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“How could I? I am almost respectable again.”
“You have never been anything else. Although respectable sounds such a dull word. Would you care to walk out to the terrace?”
She did. They were not alone, of course, but there was a strange, new pleasure in strolling at his side under the moonlight.
“Funnily enough,” she said, gazing out at the lantern-lit gardens, “although it has not always seemed so, my faith in human nature has been restored somewhat by meeting you. Thank you.”
“You have been unlucky in your friends,” he said noncommittally. “And, if you’ll pardon me, in your husband’s.”
“Theo was kind,” she said defensively because she couldn’t bear his pity.
“As his wife, you deserved a little more than that.”
Did I? She shut those thoughts away, refusing to contaminate the pleasure of the present.
And then a figure rose up from one of the benches and resolved into Captain Dauncy, who bowed to her.
“Lady Cornish, would you care to dance?”
In truth, she didn’t care to, and certainly not with him. And yet, it was rude to refuse, for she was only walking informally with Mr. Dunne. There was, besides, a reason to cultivate Captain Dauncy.
“Will you excuse me, sir?” she asked Dunne, whose face was now carefully expressionless. He smiled faintly and bowed without so much as glancing at Dauncy. It entered her head that he might be annoyed but never that he was jealous.
*
In fact, Ludovic was jealous of everyone she touched, everyone she danced with. And seeing her with Dauncy rang innumerable alarm bells in his mind, not least because of the last-minute sneer the man had cast at him behind Rebecca’s back as they walked into the ballroom.
He knew Dauncy had asked her merely to annoy him, to take something else from him because Ludovic had called him a liar to his face and promised to expose him. That had been five years ago, and the promise rang a little hollow even to Ludovic. No wonder Dauncy looked and felt so superior. He thought he was safe, and, probably, safe to turn on Ludovic in any way he could. Under no circumstances must he guess that Rebecca was any more to him than any other beautiful guest at the party.
And she undeniably was.
Those moments in the music room had made that quite clear to him. It made his heart ache in a way that shouldn’t have been possible, composed as the emotion was of equal parts despair and euphoria. The attraction had always been there, of course, simmering just below the surface ever since that first evening at Maida. Her pretended seduction, her kiss, had only gripped him harder until he had been forced to admit to a stronger desire than he had felt for any woman in years. She plagued his dreams at night and his morning arousals, too. To say nothing of his waking thoughts. For this had always been more than a mere physical attraction.
He loved her strength and independence, and yet he longed to protect her. She made him laugh and continually surprised him, and once her business was done to his satisfaction and hers, he would miss her unbearably. He wanted her to be in a position to choose a third and happy marriage if such came her way, to let some other decent man become Tom’s stepfather.
So, to be assured of her safety, he could watch Dauncy dance with her. For the life of him, he had been unable to watch her waltz with the Duke of Dearham, laughing up at him… And although he was glad to see her never short of partners, part of him wanted to punch them all.
Am I a gentleman solicitor or an adolescent fool to be enslaved by desire and jealousy?
The answer came back with lowering speed. Adolescent fool. For which there was no excuse for a man already turned thirty.
He tried not to stare at her like a brooding schoolboy. Instead, he danced with other women, including Lady Harry, whom he found very entertaining. Emboldened by his ability to be distracted by her, he set himself a challenge. To dance with Rebecca Cornish, just once.
Even though it was the supper dance, he made his way toward her, glad to see her the center of a small court which included young Sir Neil—and, just before Ludovic arrived, Peveril Dauncy.
And when she turned at once and smiled at him with genuine pleasure, he felt like a schoolboy granted his first kiss.
“Mr. Dunne, you have remembered our supper dance.”
To a chorus of disappointed protests, Ludovic managed to bow without betraying his surprise.
“Oh, I think not,” Dauncy drawled. “Pulling rank, old fellow.” And he actually took Rebecca’s hand.
She jumped, snatching her hand away.
“An interesting point of precedence,” Ludovic said mildly. “But I believe the choice of dance partner still lies with the lady.”
“He’s got you,” Sir Neil observed with some amusement.
It didn’t matter. She had already laid her hand on Ludovic’s arm and seemed eager to walk away.
“How dare he?” she muttered with unexpected intensity. “Am I still of no account? Do my wishes mean nothing?”
“They mean everything,” he said frankly. “Dauncy is an entitled boor.”
She drew in a slightly shaky breath and cast him a quick, rueful smile. “You must think the same of me, for I gave you no honorable choice.”
“I came to ask you to dance. If I’d known you needed rescuing, I would have come earlier.”
“Sir Neil and his friend were arguing over me, although in fun and with perfect respect, but when I saw you… well, I’m afraid you were my way out of embarrassment. Until Captain Dancy.”
“We’ll ignore Dauncy.” He took her into his arms, loving the faint, fresh scent of her as she turned in to him. He had held her before, danced with her before to protect her. But somehow, this felt different. She felt different, more vulnerable, almost frail.
Or perhaps he was simply more aware of her. She danced with the same sensual grace he remembered, and he had never been immune to that. He was glad to see the trouble fade from her eyes.
“It’s not the popularity I seek,” she blurted. “It’s the normality.”
“I know. And I believe you have turned a corner here.”
“Even before we take on the uncles,” she said with some satisfaction.
He smiled. “I believe you are relishing the fight.”
“Do you know, I believe I am? I have spent most of my adult life accommodating other people’s wishes. Except when I made a stand and insisted on marrying Theo.”
Which, he saw now, had only sapped her confidence further as she realized her parents were right and her love, a lightweight character. Worse, he had the sudden insight that she actually believed such was all she deserved. She was not fighting so much for her own happiness as for Tom’s upbringing and standing in the world.
“He left Tom to your care,” Ludovic reminded her. “He clearly valued you. How did you find the pianoforte?”
“Sweet in tone, and only a fraction out of tune. I enjoyed it. But I meant to ask you what it was you were playing when I interrupted you. It had an Italian sound, and I would like to learn it.”
“I don’t have music for it, but I can teach you, if you like.”
“I would like. Where did you hear it?”
They talked about music and instruments, and as they went into supper, the places they had visited in Italy. Occasionally, a shadow darkened her face at mention of some town, and she talked on with a sort of desperation that clawed at his heart. If Bowden had not already been dead, Ludovic would cheerfully have killed him.
But for the most part, he simply enjoyed her company and let her spell enfold him. He was even proud to see her wit and sense of fun shine for others, too. But best of all was when, after supper and before the dancing resumed, they strolled together across the terrace and along the lantern-lit paths. Among laughter and banter, they revealed snippets of their lives, and Ludovic’s sense of intimacy grew dangerous.
It was just one evening. But he wanted the night, too. And that, he could not have, for any number of reasons. She was his client, now. And she was owed respect. So, he steeled himself to part from her. Another dance, after all, even if she accepted, would cause talk.
“When do you return to London?” she asked him as they crossed the terrace toward the ballroom, which was full again, ready for the next dance.
“Tomorrow.”
“We leave the day after. But you will call on me in London?”
He had to remind himself with a mental kick that she was not inviting him to a social occasion. “When I have anything to report.”
“Of course.”
Did she sound disappointed? A foolish imagining.
They entered the ballroom once more. Sir Neil immediately bore down upon them from the right, another gentleman from the left, which was just as it should be. He should not resent it.
In a rush, she said, “It does not give me long to learn your Italian aria.”
His gaze flew to her face, but Sir Neil was already bowing and inviting her to dance.
She curtseyed to Ludovic. “Thank you for your escort, sir,” she said casually, and she laid her hand on Sir Neil’s arm, not Ludovic’s, and walked away to dance.
Chapter Sixteen
Rebecca had no idea what had got into her. She had as good as invited Ludovic Dunne to an assignation. With luck, he wouldn’t have understood that. If he had, he was likely to run back into the arms of the uncles with proof they were right about her immoral leanings.
Of course, she knew he would not. She had seen desire in his eyes, mirroring her own. And the closeness which had been growing between them, even through misunderstandings, was undeniable. Dancing with him, walking with him, she had felt her heart opening as it never had before, and with it, a glorious over-sensitivity to his every touch, every smile. The butterflies in her stomach had spread heat and need, more than a longing for company. A longing for love.
