Part 15 (1/2)

'Lay one wrong finger on her and I'll tear your arm off,' Ashe said pleasantly as his sister took the man's proffered hand. Her partner shot him a startled glance and hastened on to the floor to join a set on the far side.

'May I?' The marquess offered his hand to Phyllida.

'Thank you.'

'Deserted, abandoned,' Ashe said with a heavy sigh.

'You will manage to console yourself, I have no doubt,' Phyllida said sweetly as his father bore her off. She made herself catch his eye and almost gasped. Despite the mock-dramatic tone of his words his expression was not amused, but intense, almost hot. Phyllida followed her partner, feeling as if she had been rescued from a blaze.

Lord Eldonstone was an excellent and amusing partner. Gradually she found herself caught up in the dancing and the atmosphere, swept from one partner to another, relaxing with the anonymity, even though she recognised several familiar faces behind the disguises and was certain she was recognised in turn.

She tried to keep an eye on Sara, but every time she caught a glimpse of her she was behaving just as she ought, dancing in an elegant manner and not romping like some of the young ladies regrettably felt free enough to do. It was hard to miss the Herriards-even in the midst of such vivid and extraordinary costumes and all the jewellery of the haut ton they stood out with an exotic glitter. And so did she, she realised as yet another gentleman sought her hand for the dance and she overheard envious whispers from women admiring her costume and gemstones.

And it was bliss to be dancing after so long denying herself the experience. Her feet were beginning to ache, but she did not care. And now it was the waltz, the forbidden dance, the one she had never done in public. The broad-shouldered Cavalier with the chestnut curls of his wig falling over the velvet of his coat bowed before her. 'Madam, I am honoured that-'

'There you are.' Ashe appeared by her side with a charming smile and more than a whiff of brimstone about him, she could have sworn. His sudden appearance certainly made the other man stiffen. 'Thank you for entertaining my partner, sir, but I must claim her now.'

'But-' The other man eyed Ashe's smile and apparently decided on a strategic retreat. 'My pleasure, sir. Ma'am.'

'That was rude,' Phyllida chided as Ashe took her in his arms.

'It was necessary. Did you see the size of his feet?'

So he was in the mood to jest, was he? It was certainly a relief not to be dealing with his sensual intensity. 'And yours are smaller? And can you waltz? The last time we spoke you had only been having lessons.'

'Simple.' She glanced up at him and realised she was not safe after all. His eyes glinted behind the mask and the smile on his lips was pure sensuality. 'I hold you in my arms and we move together. Rhythmically.'

He was not talking about dancing. Phyllida set her smile into one of bland innocence and pretended not to understand him. 'Excellent. The orchestra is very good, don't you think?'

'When you speak I hear only your voice,' Ashe murmured and swung her into the dance. 'When I breathe I smell only your scent. When I look at a woman I see only you. Do you still believe I am reluctant to marry you?'

'Ashe.' He did not mean it, could not, but the dark honey of his voice, the heat of him so close, the circling strength of his arms, made the pa.s.sion in the words a physical thing, invading her body, lifting her spirit, bringing tears to her eyes.

They danced as if alone. In silence, in harmony. Phyllida's eyes were closed as though she could trap this moment, hold it, keep it for when she left him and the pretence that they were a couple would be ended for ever.

'Phyllida.'

She blinked and opened her eyes. The music had ceased, couples were chatting as they waited for the orchestra to organise themselves for the next tune of the set. She should chat too, make light social conversation, even flirt a little. But she could not. I love him, she thought and swallowed back the tears. I love him and I could have him. Would it be so wrong of me?

'Phyllida?' he said again, his voice questioning. 'Am I such a bad dancer?'

'No.' She could have him, but only if she told him the truth, that she might not be able to make love, not fully. Might not be able to give him children.

She found her courage and her voice and laughed. 'You are excellent. But I have longed to waltz and that was magical. Such a beautiful melody, was it not?'

'Beautiful,' he agreed, but his eyes told her it was not the music he was speaking of.

Suddenly shy, Phyllida blinked and looked around. 'What a crus.h.!.+' On the far side of the room a flash of gold and amber caught her eye. Sara, leaving the ballroom. But the ladies' retiring room was at the other end. 'Ashe, I may be being foolish, but I think Sara just left the room and I can think of no good reason why she should go through that door.'

He turned, frowning, but the glimpse of gilded silk had vanished. 'Are you sure?' But he was already striding off the floor.

Phyllida followed and caught his arm. 'Slowly, do not draw attention.' They reached the door, solidly closed. 'Stand in front and face the room, let me go first, then follow in a minute. The last thing we need is any kind of fuss.'

She opened the door, s.h.i.+elded by Ashe's broad back, and slipped through, to find herself in a narrow pa.s.sageway. There was light ahead and the sound of voices so she ran along it to where it opened out on to an inner service lobby. She paused, just before the opening. The voices, it became immediately clear, belonged to Sara and the chestnut-haired Cavalier.

'Kindly escort me back to the ballroom, sir. This is not the way to the refreshments and well you know it!'

'Don't pretend you believed that. A little minx like you doesn't parade about, covered in paste jewellery and with her t.i.ts hanging out and not expect a man to take an interest.'

'They are yellow diamonds of the finest water, you ignorant oaf. And as for my costume, I would have you know, this is the court dress of Kalatwah!' Sara sounded furious, but not at all alarmed.

'Then let me have a feel-ow!'

Phyllida whipped around the corner to find the Cavalier doubled up, clutching his groin, and Sara pulling the stiletto out of her plait. She tossed the man's elaborate wig aside and tugged off his mask. 'No, put the pin back,' she cautioned Sara. 'I know who he is. It is Lord Prewitt and he is a toad, but we don't want to kill him...'

'Don't we?' Ashe, mask discarded, stalked past Phyllida and seized the gasping Cavalier by his cravat. 'Name your friends, Prewitt.'

'Ashe.' Phyllida tugged at his arm. 'If you call him out, there will be a scandal you won't be able to control.'

He dropped the gasping baron, who fell with a thud and stayed sprawled at his feet. 'You suggest I simply kill him here and now?'

'I suggest you make him very sorry, here and now. Perhaps he would like to apologise first and promise not to say a word of this?'

'Got carried away,' Prewitt gasped. 'Wouldn't dream of mentioning it. Sorry.'

'You will be.' Ashe hoisted him to his feet, waited until the man was standing upright by himself, then hit him square in the mouth. He raised an eyebrow at Sara. 'Enough?'

'Enough,' she agreed. They turned and walked away, back to the ballroom.

In the good light Phyllida saw the girl's face, the unshed tears and the way she bit her lip to stop it trembling. 'Ashe, find your mother, ask her to come to the ladies' retiring room. I think Lady Sara should go home.'

'Of course.'

He vanished into the throng and Phyllida guided Sara down the room, chatting brightly. 'Such a noise, I am not at all surprised you have a migraine. Let us go and sit down quietly.'

'I didn't realise,' Sara whispered miserably. 'I honestly believed he was taking me to the refreshment room.'

'You dealt with him very effectively,' Phyllida consoled her. 'Look, there is your mama.' And Lord Eldonstone, looking like the wrath of G.o.d at Ashe's side.

'No harm was done, except to shock her,' she explained as Lady Eldonstone put her arm around Sara's shoulders. 'I do not think anyone has noticed anything amiss and Ashe dealt with the man-he will not dare speak of it.'

'Miss Hurst feels that tearing him limb from limb would be counter-productive,' Ashe said, his voice hard.

'And she is probably correct,' his father agreed. 'Unfortunately. Ashe, will you see Miss Hurst home? I will take your mother and sister now. If some of the party remain, it may quash any speculation.'

Ashe watched them walk away, then took Phyllida's arm and steered her into exactly the kind of alcove that his sister had been warned about finding herself in with a man. 'Are you all right? You were marvellous back there. You dealt with Prewitt, you made Sara feel better, but it must have been a shock.'