Part 14 (1/2)
”It's the end of the year,mignonne . Plans are being made, the last-minute whirl all-consuming. And the day is hardly encouraging.”
It was gray, cloudy, with a definite breeze carrying the first chill of encroaching winter. His gaze sliding approvingly over Helena's warm cloak, he murmured, ”However, as to propriety, the gossipmongers have grown tired of watching us, grown weary of expecting a scandal. They've turned their eyes elsewhere.”
She threw him an uncertain look, as if wondering just what he might risk in a nearly deserted public place.
He had to smile. ”No-I will not press you here.”
He thought she humphed, but her eyes said she accepted the a.s.surance. After a moment she said, ”I am not a horse to be walked so I don't chill.”
Obligingly, he turned her up the next path, taking them back toward the carriage drive. ”Mme Thierry's words invoked an unfortunate allusion.”
”Her words were ill judged.” Helena threw him a frowning look. ”She has changed her opinion of you. Did you speak with her?”
”If you mean did I buy her cooperation, no. I haven't spoken with her except in your presence.”
”Hmm.”
They walked on in silence; the carriage drive lay not far ahead when he murmured, ”I have enjoyed our walk,mignonne, but I want something more from you.”
The glance she shot him was sharp-and furiously stubborn. ”No.”
He smiled. ”Not that. All I wish for today is the promise of two dances at Lady Hennessy's ball tonight.”
”Twodances? Is that not frowned on?”
”At this time of year no one will think anything of it.” He looked ahead. ”Besides, you deliberately denied me any dances last night. Two tonight is fair recompense.”
Her head rose haughtily. ”You were late.”
”I am always late. If I arrived early, my hostess would faint.”
”It is not my fault there are so many gentlemen eager to partner me that there were no dances left for you.”
”Mignonne,I am neither gullible nor young. You deliberately gave all your dances away. Which is why you will promise me two for tonight.”
”You forgot the 'or else.'”
He let his tone lower. ”I thought to leave that to your imagination.” He caught her eye. ”How much do you dare,mignonne ?”
She hesitated, then, exceedingly haughtily, inclined her head. ”Very well, you may have your two dances, Your Grace.”
”Sebastian.”
”I now wish to return to Mme Thierry.”
He said no more but led her to the Thierrys' carriage, then made his adieus. He stood back, and the coachman flicked the reins; he watched the carriage roll away down the avenue.
For four days they'd been sparring-he tempting her to him, she trenchantly resisting. A gentleman would have spoken, told her he meant marriage. As things stood . . .
He was a n.o.bleman, no gentleman-the blood of conquerors flowed in his veins. And often, as now, dictated his actions.