A Dangerous Love (10 page)

Read A Dangerous Love Online

Authors: Brenda Joyce

BOOK: A Dangerous Love
4.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I cannot believe Father would allow them to stay on our property.”

Ariella tensed. Alexi was obviously speaking about the Romany. He traveled the world extensively, as he had global shipping interests, and he spoke often about cultures different from their own with interest, not suspicion or prejudice. She was taken aback by his words and tone.

He whirled, smiling. “There she is!” His white teeth flashed in his handsome, swarthy face. Tall and broad-shouldered, his eyes were the brilliant blue shared by so many de Warenne men. Like his male cousins, he had been a notorious rakehell before his marriage—unlike his male cousins, he remained a notorious rakehell even after marriage. Five years ago, he had wed their childhood friend, Elysse O'Neil, to save her from scandal—and had abandoned her at the altar immediately after taking his vows. Needless to say, that had caused an even greater scandal. As far as Ariella knew, neither husband nor wife had set eyes upon each other since.

He strode to her, but before he could embrace her, his smile faded and his stare became searching. “What is wrong?” he asked instantly.

“Is Elysse with you?” she queried, hoping to distract him. Besides, she loved Elysse as a sister and wished she were happily married to Alexi.

His face hardened. “Do not start.”

Nothing had changed. Whatever had happened, Alexi would never forgive Elysse and never forget. She sighed and hugged him, standing on tiptoe to do so. “You are such an impossible man. I love you, anyway.” She finally smiled, and it was almost genuine. “You promised to be in London for my birthday, but instead, you sent that impossible gift!” He'd sent her a music box inlaid with semiprecious stones and filigreed with gold from Istanbul. It must have cost him a small fortune.

He set her at arm's length. “I am sorry I missed your birthday, but I explained in my note that we were becalmed. You look unhappy.”

Ariella moved past him. She glimpsed her Aunt Lizzie, the Countess of Adare, in an adjacent room, chatting happily with Amanda. Her cousin, Margery, smiled at her and they hugged. “I am so happy to see you,” Margery said. Like her mother, she was a pretty, buxom strawberry blonde. “Even though it's only been a few weeks, there is so much to catch up on.”

Margery spent a great deal of the year in London, too. “How was your trip? You have arrived so early!” Ariella said.

“We had an easy journey, thanks to the new rail,” she replied. “You do look a bit peaked, Ariella. Are you all right?”

“I couldn't sleep a wink last night,” Ariella said. She was afraid to look at Alexi. He was scrutinizing her far too closely.

“The Gypsy music kept her awake,” Dianna said. “I had a bit of a problem falling asleep, as well.”

Ariella felt her cheeks warm. She stole a glance at her brother, but he had strode to the terrace doors. He stared across the lawns toward the brightly painted wagons of the caravan.

“A Gypsy woman came to the door at Harmon House a year or so ago,” Margery said. “I was the only one at home and I happened to notice how shabbily she was dressed before our doorman could send her away. She begged to tell my fortune. I only wanted to give her a meal, but she read my palm.”

“And did her fortune come true?” Dianna asked.

“Well, as she predicted a terribly handsome man as dark as the night riding in on a white charger, no.” Margery laughed. “How unfortunate.”

Alexi turned. “She was hustling you, obviously.”

“She was too proud to accept a meal without offering a service,” Ariella refuted. Her tone must have been strong, because everyone stared.

Alexi's interest had become intense. Ariella said, “I went to their camp with Father. I haven't seen Romany people since I was a child. That was in Ireland, Alexi, do you recall?”

“Yes, I do. Father's stallion was stolen and he was furious for a week.”

She crossed her arms and stiffened. “It was unfortunate,” she began.

“It was a felony,” he said grimly.

She walked over to him, her temper flaring dangerously. She knew she should control it—she never lost her temper and everyone would know something was afoot. But she couldn't hold it at bay. “So
all
Gypsies are horse thieves, fortune-tellers, hustlers and criminals?”

He towered over her. “I did not say any such thing. I have encountered Romany all over the world. They are great musicians—in Russia, the Crown has a Romany choir, as do many of the great nobles. In Hungary, Romany musicians are the rage and they play in the greatest homes, and on the stage. Many of them earn an honest living. They are tinkers, smiths, basket makers, chair menders. But,” he said very emphatically, “they are nomadic, and a disproportionate number prefer any activity other than one that brings in an honest wage.”

She knew she must back down. “I cannot believe that there are more thieves amongst the Romany than amongst the English.”

“That is not what I said.”

“Their music is strange, but very enjoyable,” Dianna said swiftly, clearly wanting to intervene. She smiled anxiously at them both. “It is exotic but filled with passion, like an opera might be.”

Ariella ignored her, as did Alexi. He said softly, “Since when have you become the defender of the Romany tribes?”

Ariella debated several placating answers. “Since I went with Father to their camp and saw mothers caring for their children and preparing supper for their families, just as we do!”

“Their culture is vastly different from ours.” He was firm. “I do not like them camping here.”

“Why not?” she cried.

His gaze shot to hers. “There will be trouble.”

She could not believe he had become so bigoted. “Their leader swore that there would be no horse stealing or cattle rustling.”

“Really? How odd. Theirs is more of a brotherhood than anything else. I doubt their
vaida
could speak honestly for his brothers. You have become enamored of the Romany!”

Ariella's heart had stopped. For one moment, she had thought he had been about to say she was enamored of their leader. She breathed, trembling. “Yes, I have. I want to study their ways and learn all I can about them.”

“Last night you were going on and on about the Mongols,” Dianna exclaimed.

She had the perfect excuse to seek Emilian out now, she realized, but her anxiety did not ease. “I have had enough of the Mongols. When I saw the Romany camp with Father, I became fascinated with them. I want to know what is folklore and what is fact.” She glanced at Alexi to see if he believed her.

He groaned, but then he smiled. “I should have known! So it has been the Mongols…until now? Well, look at the bright side. You have a
kumpa'nia
right at Rose Hill. You can do research in the field.” He pulled her close and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. “You, my dear, shall be well swindled before this day is done.” He laughed and walked out.

Ariella felt her knees buckle. She moved to the closest chair and sat.

“What did he mean?” Dianna asked.

Ariella could barely believe her turn of good luck. Her family would now think her interest in Emilian no different from her recent passion for Genghis Khan.

“He meant, dear, that your older sister is very naive, too much so her for age and intelligence, and she is about to be hustled.” Margery smiled. “Unless, of course, we can dissuade her from her newest obsession.”

“That will never happen,” Dianna said, smiling, as well. “Ariella is not dissuadable, not when she is smitten with a new subject.”

“I, for one, think their wagons are works of art. Do you want to take a stroll down to their camp? We can admire their craftsmanship and decoration firsthand.” Margery's eyes twinkled.

Ariella shot to her feet. “That is a wonderful idea.”

“I thought you might like it.” Margery winked at Dianna. “Maybe we can save her from a dangerous Gypsy.”

CHAPTER FIVE

W
HILE
M
ARGERY AND
D
IANNA
paused to exclaim over a wagon painted fantastically red, green and blue and decorated with a carved horse head in a wreath, Ariella stood on tiptoe and searched the entire camp for Emilian.

Horses had been gathered, and a few were being brought into their traces, a sign that the Romany were preparing to leave. Then Ariella saw him.

He stood by a fire, just a short distance away. With long tongs, he held a horseshoe in the flames. A black horse was tied to the wagon a short distance from him.

In the light of day, his hair was really a rich brown, shot through with amber and gold. He did not wear a shirt and, although he was motionless, his biceps bulged as he held the iron tongs. His profile was as classic and noble as any man's could be. His shoulders were broad and strong, and as he shifted his weight, his back rippled with muscle.

“Oh,” Dianna gasped.

“Oh…well…my,” Margery murmured.

Ariella jerked and faced them. “I think the sun will come out. It should be a beautiful afternoon!” He was even more beautiful than she had remembered.

Margery stared at her while Dianna stared with wide eyes at Emilian. Ariella knew that her cousin was thinking about Ariella's sudden passion for the Romany people—and the man standing a few paces from them.

“You'd think he'd wear a shirt. There are women and children everywhere,” Dianna whispered, her tone hoarse.

Margery's focus remained on Ariella, filled with speculation.

Ariella tore her regard away. Dianna was bright pink and she seemed transfixed by Emilian, who had just removed the horseshoe from the fire. He turned and laid it on a low stump, and this profile revealed his full, hard chest and the flat, tight planes of his abdomen. But Ariella saw only the scratches on his right shoulder.

Had she done that?

He placed one foot on the stump and began swinging the hammer. His arms and back bulged. The muscles in his raised thigh swelled, even through the breeches.

Dianna choked.

Ariella glanced at her and realized her proper sister was hardly a prude.


That
is a handsome man,” Margery said in a factual tone.

Ariella knew her face flamed. “Who? Oh, you mean the smith?” Her tone was far too high.

“We should go,” Dianna said nervously. “How can he be so immodest?”

“We can't go,” Margery said. She gestured at the basket of breads, cake, cookies and muffins they had brought with them. It had been Margery's idea to bring treats for the children. “We need to leave this with one of the adults.” She glanced at Emilian. “My good man!” she called, her tone authoritative but not brusque.

Emilian laid down the hammer and turned. He glanced indifferently at Margery, and then his eyes slammed upon Ariella. They widened.

Maybe this had not been the best idea, she thought frantically.

“Sir? I am Lady de Warenne. We have brought some bread and muffins for the children,” Margery said with a pleasant smile.

Emilian's gaze had not wavered from Ariella. She saw his eyes fill with anger.

But he nodded at Margery. “I beg your pardon,” he said. As he reached for a shirt, Ariella saw the mark on his upper chest, which gleamed with perspiration. She closed her eyes, recalling biting him accidentally in the heat of the most extreme moment.

“I don't blame you,” Dianna whispered.

Ariella looked at her with panic. Did she now guess the truth, too?

“I am undone, too.”

Ariella could barely believe Dianna, but the conversation taking place between her cousin and Emilian drew her attention, instead.

“That is very generous of you, Lady de Warenne,” Emilian said, buttoning his shirt halfway. He reached for a dark green brocade vest, embroidered with silver and gold. The item would not pass as a waistcoat; it was far too exotic in design. He shrugged it on. “You may leave the basket with me. I am sure the children will enjoy the fare.”

“I hope so.” Margery smiled. “Your wagons are beautiful, sir. I have never seen one up close before. The craftsmanship is superb.”

His smile began, reluctant and wry and so stunning. “Unfortunately, we cannot take credit for the workmanship. Our wagon makers are Englishmen.”

“But obviously someone has designed them so fantastically,” Margery said. She turned. “I believe you have met my cousin, Miss Ariella de Warenne.”

Ariella tensed as his gaze swept over her, his smile vanishing. She felt disrobed by the glance. She touched her silk skirts reflexively, hoping all was in order, wishing she had chosen something prettier to wear than a simple, long-sleeved day dress.

He shocked her by inclining his head. “I am afraid I have not had the pleasure.”

She breathed in relief.

Margery introduced Dianna. “I see some wagons being readied. Are you taking to the road so soon?” Margery asked.

He gave Margery his attention again. “I am afraid we have been denied permission to linger.”

“Really? Captain de Warenne is a very generous and accommodating man. I am surprised.”

Emilian chose to remain silent now.

Ariella could not believe how polite and respectful he was being to her cousin. He had not treated her so cordially, not even from the first. He had spoken to her suggestively before there had ever been an introduction. He had turned his glittering eyes upon her, as if a magician capable of enchantment, and she had fallen instantly under his spell.

He did not seem to wish to enthrall Margery. She was relieved, for she felt fairly certain he was a ladies' man. But just then, he was behaving like a well-born, noble and proper gentleman.

Margery wished him a safe journey. She turned. “Shall we return to the house? I have yet to chat with your stepmother, Ariella. And then I think I am going to rest before supper.”

Ariella looked at Emilian.

He sent her a cold glance. Using the tongs, he took the horseshoe, which had cooled, and returned it to the fire.

He wanted her to leave.
Ariella swallowed. “I think,” she said quietly, “I will stay a while.”

He did not look up, but he stiffened.

“I was hoping to converse with some of the women before they leave and I may never have such a chance again.”

Margery's eyes danced. “Field research?” she said teasingly.

“It is an amazing opportunity,” Ariella said. He was intent on the burning shoe, which was the color of hot coals now. It didn't matter. She knew he was listening to their every word.

“Very well, but I think you should rest this afternoon, too. The Simmonses are having their May Day country ball tonight, remember?”

Before Ariella could respond, Dianna said, “No, it was moved—it is at the end of the week.”

“I suppose I misunderstood. Dianna?”

Dianna gave her arm, and the two women walked off.

Ariella did not move.

Emilian took the horseshoe from the coals and laid it on the stump. He tossed the tongs aside, jerked his shirt open and lifted the hammer. He slammed it into the shoe. “Come closer,” he said, “and you will get burned.”

Ariella was fairly certain that he did not refer to the fire at his feet.

“Nervous, Miss de Warenne?” he mocked, finally leveling a cold gray stare at her.

“Yes, I am terribly nervous.” She had no intention of dissembling now.

“You have come back, so I can only assume you wish to be burned. I must warn you, linger and you will suffer the consequences.”

“I believe that you are more bark than bite,” she managed. “In spite of what could have happened last night, you were a gentleman when you realized my position.”

He made a harsh sound, his eyes diamond hard. “You clearly know nothing about the Rom, and as clearly, you know nothing about me.”

“You're right.” She hesitated. “I was hoping that, in the light of a new day, we might be able to discuss everything more calmly.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” He turned away.

He was going to reject her again? Hadn't he felt what she'd felt last night? Didn't he feel that interest and attraction now? She bit her lip. “I was hoping to learn about your culture,” she tried. “I was glad to see that you haven't left yet.”

He stiffened, staring at the horseshoe. Then he slowly faced her. His mouth tightened. “I will not be a part of your
field research,
Miss de Warenne.”

She tensed. “That is not fair, as you have no idea what Margery meant.”

“I think she meant exactly what she said.”

“I won't deny my curiosity. I would like to know more about your way of life. But…I came back because we argued last night.” She stared and their gazes locked. “I don't wish to argue with you.”

“You mean this morning.” He gave her a direct look, both scathing and male, and turned away. He retrieved the shoe with gloves. A black mare was tied to the wagon and he went to her, stroking her rump once. He lifted her hind hoof and placed the shoe there, checking the fit.

“You know what I mean,” Ariella said to his back. He did not look up. “I was hoping your temper might have improved with a few hours of sleep. But I see I have been hoping in vain.”

He straightened and faced her, his gaze now deeply penetrating. “I did not sleep, Miss de Warenne. My temper has never been as foul.”

She was certain their encounter was the reason he hadn't been able to sleep, either, and that thrilled her. He could claim indifference, but he was affected by her, too. “Then that makes two of us,” she murmured.

His face hardened. “Are you trying to provoke me? Was last night not enough provocation? Or is this a virgin's seduction?”

She was surprised. “You make it sound as if I wanted to lead you a merry chase, when I had no such plans! I wouldn't even know where to begin a seduction!”

He ripped off the gloves. “Last night, you wanted me to pursue you—do not dare deny it. You wanted me to take you into my arms and you wanted my kisses. I know when a woman sends such an invitation, Miss de Warenne. I did not mistake your desires last night. I have little doubt you were born a seductress.”

She was amazed that he thought her seductive, when all of society found her too independent, too intelligent, too educated. “You are the first man, Emilian, who has ever made me think of kisses,” she said slowly, “and the first man to make me feel passion. You are the only man I have ever wanted to kiss. I never understood what the fuss was about, or why my brother and male cousins are such rakes, going from conquest to conquest. I don't think I even knew what I was doing last night. But when we met, something happened to me—I won't deny it. And it is wonderful!” she cried passionately.

A silence fell.

She trembled. “I was hoping we could start over this morning.”

“Oh, yes, I had forgotten, you want more than my kisses. You wish to know me better—as friends! You may rendezvous with me tonight at our next camp, but though you will claim it is to converse, we both know there will be little conversation.”

His temper hadn't improved, she realized, not at all. He was as set against her now as he had been when he'd learned of her innocence. “But there is so much to speak of! We could gossip and debate. We could share stories. I grew up in the West Indies—I have many stories to tell! I am sure you have many stories to tell, too, as you have traveled even more extensively. Just because I have been dreaming of your kisses—and perhaps, you have been dreaming of mine—doesn't mean we have to act on our desire!” But she flushed, because she wished to do just that.

He choked. “Ladies do not admit to such feelings…just as ladies do not tryst with Gypsies and wish to become their friends.”

Ariella breathed deeply, wondering if a question was contained in his words. “Emilian, I am outspoken and considered eccentric by society. I am also an honest person. Can't we discuss this with honesty? Don't I deserve that much, after the passion we shared last night? You were kind and respectful to Margery, my cousin.”

“I am not lusting for your cousin,” he said flatly. “We shared a simple kiss, nothing more.”

Her heart slammed. “It was far more than a kiss, Emilian.”

“For you, a woman without experience.”

“That's right. I have no experience when it comes to kisses and lovemaking. What happened last night was hugely important to me. I am hoping it was important to you, too.”

His eyes were dark and unhappy.

She breathed, “Were you awake last night because of me?”

“Stay longer, and you will find out.”

She thrilled in spite of the terrible tension and enmity coming from him. “What can I do to form a truce between us, so we might have a real beginning?” She smiled hopefully.

Other books

El hombre que se esfumó by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö
Stripped by Brian Freeman
Restless by William Boyd
Wilderness Run by Maria Hummel
Europe at Midnight by Dave Hutchinson
Beware of Bad Boy by Brookshire, April
The Stallion (1996) by Robbins, Harold
Patient Privilege by Allison Cassatta