Part 4 (1/2)

”I was fortunate, for my parents were unfas.h.i.+onably interested in their offspring. I have two older sisters who alternately spoiled and tormented me.” He grinned. ”That's normal for families, from what I've seen. Jane and Caroline are both married now. At last count I had five delightful nieces and nephews.”

Trying not to sound too envious of his family, she asked, ”Did you always wish to grow up and join the army?”

”Actually, my inclinations were scholarly rather than military.” He concentrated rather more than necessary on steering around two stopped carriages. ”But shortly after I finished at Cambridge, my parents died within a month of each other. I felt the need for a change.” He smiled with wry sel-mockery. ”I also had romantic notions about serving my country, so I went into the army and was sent to the Peninsula just before the big push into France.”

He'd had a baptism of fire. She did a swift calculation, and decided that he was only about twenty-five now. War had matured him early. ”You may deny being a hero, but at the least, you served your country well,” she said quietly. ”Don't apologize for that.”

He pulled his horses to a halt, then turned to her, the reins tight in his hands. ”We both seem to have the ability to hear more than what the other person is saying.”

So the deeper levels of this conversation were not in her imagination. She asked, ”Is that bad?”

”No.” He snapped the reins and set the horses into motion again. ”Not bad at all.”

For the rest of the drive, they talked about anything and everything. Leah had never found anyone, male or female, with whom she could converse so easily. And Duncan was obviously enjoying himself as much as she was. Could falling in love be this simple? She prayed that it was so.

As Duncan drove back to Wheaton House, he said with a touch of diffidence, ”Tomorrow is the last night that Vauxhall will be open before closing for the winter. My uncle, with whom I'm staying, has suggested inviting you and your G.o.dmother to join us. Apparently she and my uncle are old friends. Might you be able to come?”

”Let me ask Lady Wheaton when we reach home. I believe we're free tomorrow night,” she said, ruthlessly jettisoning invitations to three loud, crowded rout parties.

With a private smile, she guessed that her aunt would be almost as interested in the excursion as Leah.

Chapter Five.

After spattering rain all day, the skies began to clear as dusk approached. Leah gave thanks-she did not want the evening at Vauxhall canceled. She was ready and bouncing with eagerness an hour before Lord Townley and Duncan were due to arrive.

Monique, who styled Leah's hair, shook her head sadly. ”You must not wear your heart on your sleeve, m'zelle. Men like Captain Townley enjoy the hunt. Where is the challenge in a woman who falls into the hand like a ripe plum?”

Shadow, who was sitting on the vanity table with her paws tucked primly under her, gave a soft, scornful yowl. Feeling supported, Leah said, ”Captain Townley is not like that. He would despise such games.” She was not sure how she knew that, but she was quite positive that she was right.

After Monique left, still shaking her head, Leah stroked Shadow's luxuriant black fur. Now that she thought about it, she realized that the cat's eyes were the same transparent gold as Duncan's. An interesting coincidence.

She spent the next hour playing her harp, and wondering if Duncan would like the traditional instrument as much as he had enjoyed her piano playing. Wryly she recognized that every thought in her head involved Duncan one way or another.

When a maid summoned her, she raced down the stairs like a hoyden. Outside the drawing room, she made herself pause to take a deep breath. Then she went in.

Duncan greeted her warmly and made the introductions. Lord Townley was a lean, handsome gentleman with silver-touched hair and an unfas.h.i.+onably brown complexion. He bowed over her hand. ”I had thought my nephew exaggerated your beauty, but I see instead that he understated the case.”

Leah liked the twinkle in the viscount's eye, and the obvious affection between him and his nephew. One of the bits of female advice that Lady Wheaton had offered was that a man who could get along with his relations was a good prospect for getting along with a wife. Leah had learned more such useful things in a few weeks with her G.o.dmother than in twenty-one years with her real mother.

Lady Wheaton swept grandly into the parlor, looking particularly fine in a navy blue costume trimmed in military-style gold braid. Lord Townley swung around, and there was a suspended moment while they looked at each other. Both of them were very still until the viscount said softly, ”You haven't changed at all, Andrea.”

To Leah's amazement, her worldly G.o.dmother blushed. ”Nor have you, Will. You're still an outrageous flirt.”

”A flirt?” he protested. ”I'm a simple man, dedicated to the pursuit of truth.”

”Hmph. The truth isn't in you,” she said, but she took his arm eagerly when he offered it.

Leah and Duncan exchanged a glance of mutual surprise and amus.e.m.e.nt. As they followed the older couple out to the carriage, Duncan said under his breath, ”I had thought my uncle a dedicated bachelor. But perhaps I was wrong.”

Leah laughed and tightened her clasp on his arm. Magic was in the air. Why shouldn't Lord Townley and Lady Wheaton also feel the enchantment?

Ranulph had visited Vauxhall Gardens several times. During the day, the acres of trees were a welcome respite from the stone and stink of the city. He'd come several times at night as well. The concerts weren't bad, though nothing as good as faery music, or Leah's lilting airs. But in the tree-shadowed paths, it was simple to find women who would lie with a handsome stranger. The physical satisfaction he'd found in such encounters was fleeting, but easily come by.

Tonight was different because Leah was here, along with her d.a.m.ned suitor. The young man was definitely a suitor-a blind man could see that.

Leah and her party had promenaded along the Grand Walk, watched the Cascade, and dined in a supper box. There was something afoot between the older man and Leah's G.o.dmother as well-Ranulph could see the energy glow between them. Not as intense as the radiant bond between Leah and young Townley, but definitely there, and growing stronger. The lot of them were having such a good time that they were like feasting court faeries, he thought acidly.

After the fireworks display, the couples separated and went off to promenade through the gardens, wanting privacy to talk-or for other reasons. Ranulph drifted through the shrubbery, watching Leah. The provocative sway of her hips as she walked intoxicated him. And her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, ah, those perfect little b.r.e.a.s.t.s . . .

He caught his breath as an idea struck him. What if a patch of fog rolled in from the river while Leah and her suitor were on the Dark Walk? No one would think anything of it. In the mist it would be easy to separate Leah from Townley. Lost and confused, she would run to her suitor in relief when she found him. Except that it would be Ranulph she would find, guised in the form of the man she desired.

He gave a great shout of laughter as the plan took form in his mind. He'd have her tonight, and pleasure her so well that she would be mad for the young man whose face he wore. Then, when her wits were scrambled with love, it would be time for Ranulph to collect his price, and she would be his.

In his bed-and in flower-filled glens and mossy bowers-he would bind her to him with the erotic arts learned over centuries, skills no mortal could hope to match. Through pa.s.sion he would swiftly overcome any resentment she had at being compelled to leave the world of mortals. Not that he expected much resistance. Once she adjusted, how could she not prefer eons of pleasurable life in the glittering realms of Faerie?

He waited until Leah and her escort left the lighted Grand Cross Walk for the Dark Walk. Then, his gaze following her graceful figure, he raised one arm and summoned the fog.

Thick and soft as cotton wool, the dense mist rolled over the trees and walkways of this corner of the gardens, m.u.f.fling sounds and reducing vision to a matter of two or three feet. Even Ranulph could see little.

All about him were gasps and feminine squeals of surprise. Ranulph smiled and snapped his fingers as he murmured a few words in the ancient tongue of magic. A spell of confusion formed in his palm, a dim sphere with dark swirling streaks inside. He tossed it toward Leah and Townley. The spell was a small one, and would affect only them and an area of fifty feet or so around.

Then, silent as the fog, he headed toward where he had last seen her. He'd done his work too well, for even he became confused. She was not where he had expected, and neither was her escort. Ranulph stopped and searched the dense fog with scent and sound and intuition. Trees to the left, beyond that two people coupling, and not with the partners they'd come with. But where was Leah?

He heard light steps on the gravel path. A soft voice said uncertainly, ”Duncan?”

Vibrant with excitement, he made himself visible to mortal eyes in the guise of Duncan Townley. He took a moment to familiarize himself with the new form. He had to admit that it was not a bad body, for a mortal. Then he called, ”Here, Leah!”

He stepped forward, and almost ran into her. She gasped, ”Oh!” as he caught her shoulders to steady her.

”Are you all right?” he asked, the words coming in a deep voice that was not his own. Slowly he ran his hands down her arms as he studied her delicate features.

She smiled, shamefaced. ”I am now. I don't know quite how I lost you. One moment I had your arm. Then the fog came, and I got confused.”

”I know. I was worried.” He drew her into his arms and held her close. After making a small sound of surprise, she nestled close.

Reminding himself that he must go slowly, he kissed the top of her head, then gently moved his lips to her temple. She tilted her head back questioningly. The damp fog caused tendrils of hair to cling fetchingly to her throat. No longer able to restrain himself, he claimed her lips.

She gave a s.h.i.+ver of surprise. ”I . . . I shouldn't,” she whispered into his mouth.

”I was so worried,” he said again, and kissed her bare throat, stroking her rapid pulse with his tongue.

Her mind might have doubts, but her body didn't. She pressed against him even as she murmured another vague protest. With a few steps he moved them to a mossy bed that he had created earlier, safely away from the graveled walk.

”This . . . this is most improper,” she said weakly as he dropped to his knees, then tugged her down beside him.