“Dear me, your husband has been neglecting you. Either that or his reputation is vastly overrated. I confess know not which.”
Lavinia, all too conscious of her invidious position and shaking limbs, found herself released and took a step back. “How dare you,” she gasped, “How dare you treat me so.”
“Oh, I dare, my dear, and what’s more I dare to repeat the offence. Does Saltaire kiss you like this?” he murmured, his mouth lingering on hers. “Or is it true that he does not kiss you at all?”
Thoroughly enraged by his questions, Lavinia forgot to be frightened, and taking advantage of his relaxed grip she pulled away furiously. “You overstep the mark, Sir.” Her mouth curled scornfully, “I had thought you a gentleman, but I see I was mistaken. Tell me, do you usually behave so?”
“Only when I think it is expected of me,” came the rejoinder. “But come, you still have not answered my question.”
Furiously, she flung at him, “lf you must know, though it can scarcely be of any interest to you, Saltaire has kissed me more times than I can remember, and each time it was far more enjoyable than your kiss.”
There was a smothered sound from behind the mask. “Such vehemence. I own I begin to think I misjudged you, Madam.”
“If you expected me to behave like a trollop, then you are in the right of the matter,” she returned, recovering a little now that she found herself free of his embrace.
“But then. you did come here, directly against Saltaire’s wishes, knowing I would be here, didn’t you,” he taunted.
“That was because …” Her lips snapped shut on the words. She had no intention of telling Andover or anyone else just why she had disobeyed Saltaire. She was beginning to think she had been exceedingly foolish, and all she longed for now was to return to Grosveror Square and put the whole unhappy incident behind her.
Her companion bent down and retrieved her mask, handing it to her. Her fingers trembled so much with the strings that she found herself completely unable to fasten them. “Here, let me do it.”
Before she could stop him, his arms went round her to tie the mask, and despite herself she could not repress a slight shudder. Instantly his hands dropped to her shoulders, awareness gleaming in his eyes. “Were my kisses so distasteful?” She saw the trace of mockery on his face. “I cannot have that. I have my reputation to think of.” The words were accompanied by a fugitive smile.
Her breath caught in her throat as he bent over her. A small strangled protest broke from her lips but it was too late; his lips were on hers, the merest butterfly touch yet somehow stirring her as his previous embrace had not done. Her hands beat ineffectually against his chest and then grew still as the tumult inside her grew. He was kissing her face now, his lips lingering for a second on the pulse beating in her throat, before returning to claim her mouth with a mastery that she was powerless to resist. All Lavinia’s previously held convictions about her reactions to such an embrace were dashed to pieces, as she felt her senses flare into new and eager life. For a long breathless minute she swung helplessly between heaven and earth and then it was over, and she was free. Yet somehow she knew she would never be quite free ever again. The blood drummed in her ears. For one mad second she felt an urge to fling herself back into his arms, and then the enormity of her behaviour struck her. Blindly, she turned away from him.
There was a scrunching on the gravel outside, and taking advantage of his momentary loss of attention, Lavinia darted through the door, hurrying anxiously along the walk. When she realised that he was making no attempt to follow her, she slowed her steps a little, putting her hands to her flushed cheeks. Had it really happened? She only needed to feel her throbbing lips to know it had. How could she have been so lost to all sense of decency as to allow such an embrace-never mind enjoy it? She shivered in the night air, knowing that if he were to come after her and take her back in his arms, she would not be wholly sorry.
The man she had left behind her heard the footsteps approaching and slid into the darkness of the small room.
Outside someone called. “Lavinia. Lavinia, are you there? I’m sorry I have been so long. I fear I could not find your brother anywhere. Lavinia …” The voice trailed off uncertainly. and the sound of footsteps on the gravel grew steadily quieter.
The man concealed inside the pagoda smiled grimly.
Lavinia entered the ballroom and looked round in agitation. “Lavinia, whatever is the matter?” asked Lady Elizabeth, glancing at her cousin’s flushed countenance. A sudden thought struck her. “Never say you have bumped into Saltaire already …?”
Lavinia’s heart started to beat wildly. “Saltaire,” she echoed. “He is not here, is he?”
Lady Elizabeth nodded her head. “Yes, I saw him with my own eyes not twenty minutes since. Lord, but you should have seen his scowl. I dare swear it frightened me to death. I recall it particularly because Kitty was dancing with Richard, and a vastly pretty pair they made too,” she added fondly.
Lavinia cut in impatiently. “Where did Saltaire go, cousin?”
Lady Elizabeth pondered for a moment. “Let me see. Ah yes, I have it, it was out into the gardens. No, no, I recall someone stopped him. Ordley, I believe it was.”
Lavinia was able to breathe again. If Saltaire had chanced to walk into the gardens and discover her with Andover… She must lose no time in finding Richard and Kitty. They must depart with all haste.
By the time the Marquis of Andover sauntered into the ballroom in search of the missing Lavinia, she had gathered up her relatives and was on the point of leaving. Only the chatter of her hostess kept her in the hallway, her eyes drawn time and again to the door in the main salon, as she prayed they could get away before Saltaire appeared.
Andover, despite his diligence, looked in vain amongst the crowd for the lady, and was halted by Qrdley. “So, my friend, you make good progress with SaItaire’s wife.”
Andover became interested in the lace adorning his ruffles. “Oh, indeed, why should you think so?” he asked casually.
“Oh come,” enjoined the other. “Don’t play the innocent with me. I saw the two of you with my own eyes in that Chinese affair in the garden. You bending over her and the girl all big-eyed.”
“Did you so?” murmured the Marquis. “How very clever of you to be sure. But naturally, you will keep this information to yourself?” There was a steely glint in his eyes.
Ordley swallowed. He had been looking forward to imparting this information to Saltaire and seeing his chagrin. Saltaire might not want the chit himself, but Ordley knew him far too well to believe that he would look lightly upon anyone else stealing her affections.
“I am waiting, Ordley.”
“My word on it,” murmured the Viscount reluctantly. “Although I cannot for the life of me see why. I thought the whole point of the exercise was that everyone should know?”
“Not yet.” An enigmatic expression crossed Andover’s face fleetingly, “The time is not right yet.”
Shrugging, Ordley walked off, and Andover watched him go, his own face thoughtful.
Lavinia was becoming more desperate with every passing minute. Lady Harrington, oblivious to her guest’s wish to be gone, continued to chatter on gaily. “My dear, you have no notion. When we first heard Saltaire was wed, I declare the whole town thought it a hum.”
“Yes indeed, My Lady. It must have been a shock,” broke in Lavinia, “But I fear we really must be leaving.” At her side she heard Richard groan, and looking up saw Saltaire bearing down upon them. She paled a little, and Lady Harrington, following her eyes, beamed. “Ah, speak of the devil. Here comes your husband.”
Controlling a slightly hysterical desire to giggle at her hostess’s somewhat unfortunate choice of words, Lavinia tried to compose herself.
“Ah, there you are, my dear. Quite a family gathering.”
She swallowed hard, meeting his eyes without a quiver. “Yes indeed, My Lord. I own we had not looked to see you here,” she challenged, eyeing him bravely.
“No, so I believe.” There was an ominous silence whilst Lady Harrington looked worriedly from husband to wife.
Lady Elizabeth stepped in firmly. “We are on the point of leaving, Saltaire, do you accompany us?”
The appearance of Lord Ware at the Earl ‘s side brought a relieved smile to Lavinia’s face. “Ah, Saltaire,” he said. “There you are. I’m off to White’s, will you join me?”
Saltaire’s eyes rested thoughtfully on Lavinials defiant face for a few seconds before he replied. “No, I think not. I fear I am quite done up. A night at home with my family would be most beneficial.” Before Ware could express his surprise at hearing these sentiments, the Earl was turning to Lavinia. “lf you are ready, my dear?”
Inwardly quaking, Lavinia took the proferred arm, trying not to show her agitation. If she had hoped that the presence of Kitty, Lady Elizabeth and Richard might prove a safeguard, she was due for a disappointment. No sooner had they seated themselves in the coach than the Earl withdrew his snuff box. Lavinia watched from beneath lowered lids as he opened it with great deliberation, took a small pinch and then sat back.
“WeIl, perhaps you will now afford me with an explanation of your behaviour?”
Lavinia flushed. “What do you mean?”
The bored voice sharpened a little. “Do not fence with me, Madam, you know exactly what I mean. I believe you were forbidden to attend Lady Harrington’s ridotto?”
Lavinia bridled at the word “forbidden”. “Indeed, Sir, I was not.”
The green eyes sharpened and when he spoke his voice was dangerously low. “No-one, and I mean no-one, calls me a liar, Madam. Do not test my endurance too far. You have already put me to the trouble of coming to remove you.”
Kitty, instantly on the alert, pounced, “Coming to remove her? Saltaire, I believe you are becoming quite the jealous husband.”
There was a long silence. No-one spoke.
Lavinia made an attempt to steer the conversation back into more safe channels. Saltaire jealous? Ridiculous, he didn’t even know she existed as a woman. She offered palliatively, “It was the party of your cousin’s making which you forbade, My Lord, not the ridotto itself. Indeed, when my cousin asked me to accompany her, I naturally would have consulted you, but you were from home.”
“Most fortuitously,” he responded drily. “So you anticipated my acceptance of’ the scheme.”
Lavinia shrugged, conscious other heightened colour and the nervous beating of her heart. “A mere family party, Sir. I could not see anything for you to look askance at in it. And as for the ridotto itself-surely the most innocuous of things.”
“So you found it innocuous did you, Madam?” he enquired lazily.
Lavinia looked down at the floor. Surely he could not know? But no. She shuddered a little. No, it was just her imagination. She tilted her chin in a manner that put Lady Elizabeth on her guard. and replied smoothly, “Yes indeed. Sir, a most pleasant evening. I enjoyed myself very much.”
Breakfast on the morning after the ridotto was not a happy affair. When Lavinia entered the breakfast parlour there was no sign of Kitty, but to her dismay Saltaire was very much in evidence.
“So, Madam. your exertions of last night have not exhausted you to the point where you must spend the morning in bed.”
“A quiet evening patty with my relatives? Hardly, Sir. I am not in my dotage yet,” she enjoined coolly, her eyes challenging his.
“Indeed? From the manner in which you sought the solitude of your bedchamber last night one would he forgiven for thinking the opposite. I got the distinct impression that every moment or sleep lost was precious.”
Lavinia said nothing. How could she? He was well aware that the reason she had sought her room so hurriedly was so that she would not have to be alone with him, and they both knew it. But once there. She flushed guiltily. She had not been able to help the memory of those few stolen kisses in the garden stealing over her. She had even caught herself wondering what it would he like if her husband were to embrace her in such a manner. Looking at him now, cool and remote at the breakfast table, she was conscious of a sudden constriction of her throat. Before she could analyse the feeling, he looked up and the moment was gone.
She recalled a certain engagement she had for the morning. “It is my intention to go to Kensington with Lady Elizabeth this morning. I intend to decorate the ballroom with fresh flowers for our ball. I trust I have your approval?”
Ignoring her sarcasm, he merely yawned widely and murmured, “Do what you will, My Lady, such matters are of scant importance to me.”
“Yet, you found my plans for last night extremely interesting-or so it appeared,” she retorted crisply.
Saltaire paused in the action of folding his paper, his face enigmatic. His wife was beginning to intrude on his mind far more than he would have envisaged. He smiled a little to himself as if enjoying some private joke. “That was different.”
“Because I might have met the Marquis of Andover?”
“Did you?” he countered.
“Did she what?” asked Kitty entering the room at that moment.
“Oh, nothing,” said Lavinia hurriedly. “Do you come with me to Kensington this morning?”
Kitty looked up artlessly, “Oh, Lavinia, forgive me, I had forgotten. I am engaged to go riding with Richard. He was telling me that he got little opportunity, especially now that Charles has returned to Oxford.”
Lavinia could find little to cavil at in this plan. When they had first arrived in London, she had suspected Saltaire of trying to engage Kitty’s affections, but if this was the case, there was certainly nothing loverlike in his manner this morning. It came to Lavinia with a faint sense of shock that his attitude was rather more that of an indulgent older brother. She glanced at her husband, trying to imagine him in such a role, and he, catching her look, returned it mockingly.
“Well, if you will excuse me?” Lavinia got to her feet abruptly, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste to escape.
Saltaire stretched out a hand to stop her. “Before you go, I think I shall add another name to that list. ” Lavinia waited. “Lady Juliet.”