Part 23 (2/2)
”I'm not pining,” she said with great dignity. ”I'm waiting.”
”Can you be so certain he's not with someone else, Miss Acland? There might be another woman in his arms this very moment.”
She responded to his taunt with a frosty look. ”I'm beginning to find your conversation offensive, Lord De Gray.” She paused and added reluctantly, ”But thank you for the flowers.”
He smiled, extending his hand to her. ”Favor me with a dance, Miss Acland.”
”I can't. I'm sorry.” She looked away from him, clutching the small silver dance card in her fist.
Rather than argue, he shrugged. ”Very well. My regards to you and your mother.”
”Thank you,” she murmured, and watched him walk away. She experienced a moment of regret, knowing that one dance wouldn't have signified anything. Perhaps she might even have enjoyed it. But she didn't want to encourage De Gray or give her mother false hopes.
”Lidian?” Her mother appeared at her side. ”I saw you speaking with Lord De Gray! What did he say?”
”Nothing, Mama. He merely wished to convey his regards.”
There were ripples of feminine excitement across the room as De Gray approached a group of young women and their chaperons. His sister Dollie was there, taking his arm and drawing him into a conversation with some of her companions. After a few minutes, he escorted an attractive blond to the center of the room, bowed perfunctorily, and took her in his arms for a waltz. De Gray was an exceptionally good dancer, showing off his partner to advantage.
Lidian tore her gaze from the sight and struggled with doubt and an unreasonable twinge of jealousy. For some reason she was suddenly angry with Chance and Lord De Gray and all men in general. She didn't want to watch all these animated girls angling to catch matrimonial prizes-she wanted to be somewhere peaceful and private, away from the music and small talk.
She waited until her mother's attention was centered on a discussion with some old friends, and then she left the room. Having been acquainted with the Willoughbys' home for many years, she had an idea of where she wanted to go. Slipping by the ballroom, the card room where the old people were fond of congregating, and the hunting room where the men liked to smoke, she headed to a set of receiving rooms on the other side of the house.
Finding an unoccupied parlor, Lidian closed the door behind her with a sign of relief. The room was quiet and dim, except for a burning log on the grate contained behind the firescreen. She removed her long white gloves and tossed them carelessly to the floor, then stretched her bare hands toward the fire. For a few minutes at least, she would have some peace.
The door was opened so quietly that she didn't hear it. All at once the sound of a man's voice startled her, and she whirled around with wide eyes.
”It's not proper for you to be here alone, Miss Acland.”
Lord De Gray came into the room and closed the door. Dapples of red and gold firelight played across his features as he approached her, making the shadows and angles of his face more p.r.o.nounced. His gaze swept over her figure, sheathed in white silk with the diaphanous overlay of pale green gauze.
Trying to recover from her surprise, Lidian answered with a touch of sarcasm. ”Neither is it proper for you to be here with me, my lord. I would appreciate it if you would leave. I have no desire for your company.”
”There are only two possible reasons for that. One is that you find me unattractive-and I don't believe that.”
Lidian was both amused and affronted. ”You have quite a high opinion of yourself, don't you?”
”The other is that you think you're in love with another man.”
”I am in love with another man.”
”And no one could make you forget him?”
”Not for a minute.”
”No doubt he's the only man you've ever kissed.”
”I've kissed dozens of men,” she lied coolly.
Sudden laughter gleamed in his eyes. ”I wish I'd been one of them.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and frowned up at him. ”Please leave, my lord.”
De Gray reached out to straighten a tiny fold of the green gauze at her bodice. The touch was light but intimate, making her heart quicken uncontrollably. ”I hope you're not afraid of me.”
”Certainly not,” she managed to say, yearning to move away from him but determined to stand her ground. ”I'm angry with you.”
The touch of playful laughter remained in his eyes. ”You'll be even angrier in a moment.”
”Why-” She was astonished as she was suddenly caught in his steely arms, her hands trapped between their bodies. Inhaling sharply, she began to cry out, but his mouth was on hers in a hot crush of sensation. She twisted and struggled, but his hold was inescapable. Her head bent back, and a silken lock of her hair slid from the upsweep of curls, falling over her face. A hairpin or two dropped to the carpeted floor. De Gray paused, loosening the pressure of his arms, and he brushed the curl back behind her ear. Lidian stared up at him in shock. ”Let me go,” she whispered.
His face was suddenly austere, his green eyes veiled by gold lashes. His hand slid behind her neck and gripped tightly while his mouth returned to hers. A chord of denial shot through her-no, she belonged to Chance, she would feel nothing for anyone else-but there were no more thoughts as she became a willing prisoner while he possessed her mouth with gently devouring kisses. When he finally lifted his head, she was barely able to stand on her own.
The last man to kiss her had been Chance, and now this stranger had erased that sweet memory. She stared at him while the breath rushed hard in her lungs and her legs trembled beneath her. Although she expected to see insolent triumph on his face, there was nothing except a flash of confusion that seemed to mirror her own.
”Miss Acland-”
Lidian lashed out and felt her palm connect with his cheek. Had she the strength, she would have slapped him harder. The blow caused her hand to sting. She turned away in an effort to flee, but De Gray reached out and caught her wrist. Slowly he brought her stiff hand to his face, and he pressed his mouth to her reddened palm. His lips were hot against her skin.
Stunned by the gesture, Lidian stood there with her hand held stiff in his grip. It was now a secret that bound them, this kiss...a memory that must be put away and ignored. The feelings it had aroused would be denied for the rest of her life. She had betrayed Chance, responding this way to a stranger. She was both astonished and ashamed by her own behavior.
His clear eyes held hers as he spoke quietly. ”You will forget him, Miss Acland. I'll make certain of that.”
Lidian wrenched free of him and stumbled slightly in her haste to leave the room. A quick fumble at the door handle, and then the paneled door swung open, allowing her to escape.
A few days later, the memory of the kiss at the Willoughbys' ball still tormented Lidian. She couldn't stop thinking about Lord De Gray, his mouth on hers, the way he had crushed her against his body. She dreamed about him kissing her again and again while she struggled against him in pleasure and shame. Even worse, her dreams of Chance had faded until she could scarcely remember what he looked like. The image of Chance's dark eyes had been replaced by gray-green ones, and his charming quips were supplanted by the memory of how De Gray had kissed her hand after she had slapped him.
Naturally she hadn't told her mother what had happened-she was too ashamed of herself. Proper young women didn't behave this way, allowing a man she barely knew to take liberties with her. Besides, it would only fuel Elizabeth's determination to find a match for her. Elizabeth was busy making arrangements for them to live in London for the rest of the season, in spite of her daughter's objections.
Chance, you've stayed away too long, Lidian thought wretchedly, laying her head on the cluttered surface of her desk. Why did you ask me to wait, and then disappear? You must come for me soon. She didn't know if she could be strong in the face of her mother's insistence and her own weakness. She was lonely and all too vulnerable to temptation.
”Lidian!” Elizabeth burst into the library, her face flushed and her breathing alarmingly rapid. She raised a letter clutched in her fist and gestured with it in a jerky movement. ”You won't believe it-read for yourself-”
”What is it?” Lidian asked in concern, rus.h.i.+ng to her. ”Bad news?”
”No, no, quite the opposite!” Wildly excited, Elizabeth thrust the letter into her hands.
Lidian took the paper and bent over it, reading rapidly. After the first paragraph, she stopped and looked at her mother dazedly. ”It's from the Countess De Gray.”
”Yes, it's a reply to a letter I sent last week. Go on, read it!”
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