Different Tides (26 page)

Then she remembered him in his Shylock costume and the debacle with the dogs. She laughed. Evan was suited to comedy, and he reminded her a little of Roland.

Unbidden, she recalled the touch of Roland Elliot’s hands, his long artistic fingers painting her skin, as gentle and sensual as the wings of a butterfly. There was something about a creative man that drew her, and there was an irresistible desire inside her to be handled. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body as it touched against hers, and remembering the painting Roland had shown her. She wondered if her breasts now adorned the sitter. How wanton the girl had looked with her wild hair and the brazen invitation in her pose.

He was arranging little curls about her ears. ‘You need a man, Alexandra.’

Her eyes flew open and she gave a little giggle and her arm went to her thigh and she pressed against him. ‘I daren’t ruin myself.’

He ran a finger around her jawline. ‘There are ways and means, as well you know it. You might still be intact, my dear, but you’re no innocent. A little sexual foreplay wouldn’t go amiss … a kiss or two. It will make you sparkle and give you something to look forward to. Evan turned the key in the lock and drew up a chair.

‘I haven’t agreed.’

‘You’ve been teasing me for the past week, so of course you’ve agreed.’ His arms slid round her from behind and his fingers brushed over the swell of her breast through the cloth. He nibbled the lobe of her ear and her nipples pushed against the fabric of her bodice. He loosened the laces and her breasts fell free. ‘I can offer you ease and enjoyment, while still leaving you intact. Close your eyes.’

He’s a servant
, she thought as his hands touched and fondled.

He was also a man … and she was sick of being good when her body told her to be otherwise. Lord, he was pressing against her back, as big as a bull!

She should scream for help and have him dismissed.

She could scream with delight!

She wouldn’t enjoy it, despite what he said, and the next minute his mouth closed over hers and she gave a little groan. Yes … she would.

He must have sensed the way her thoughts were arguing with each other, for he chuckled and inched her skirt carefully up her lap, folding it as he went so as not to crease it. His hands slid up her thighs and she struggled more for show than anything else, until he tightened his arm around her waist.

‘Be still and hush now. It’s my turn to tease you, and nobody will ever be any the wiser.’ When his thumbs probed gently and slid into the warm moist folds of her centre she gave a little whimper and could smell her own musk rising.

He pulled her down, spread-eagled on her back across his lap and his tongue delicately attacked her mouth and her breasts, while he explored what was usually hidden under her gown.

‘Oh … oh …’ She whispered in surprise, as a few moments later the exquisite shudder she gave almost disintegrated her. A palm across her mouth muted her cry of release.

He stood, all at once the servant, and bringing her to her feet, arranged the folds of her gown over her throbbing centre. She felt lethargic, relaxed.

‘Allow me to lace you into your bodice and shake the folds from your skirt, Miss Tate. You’re a born trollop who likes to play with danger.’

She stared at him. ‘How dare you insult me! You’re a servant, and I could get you dismissed for what you’ve just done.’

‘No, darling, you could not. Zachariah Fleet doesn’t trust many people, but he trusts me. And here’s a warning for you: leave the man alone. Hussies like you are a penny a dozen and your flirting is an embarrassment to him.’

Tying the last of the ribbons on her bodice together he gazed into her eyes and smiled. ‘You have a nice pair of tits, but I suppose other men have told you that … Basil Cheeves perhaps. Are you sure you wouldn’t like them rouged? No? Well, I’ll make myself available when the evening is over, just to finish what we started.’

When she lashed out to slap him, he caught her by the wrist, and then pushed her on the bed and walked away. The lock clicked as he turned the key, and the door closed gently behind him.

Zachariah Fleet was attentive, but was so distant and gentlemanly that Alexandra felt like throwing the bowl of punch at him. It was as though her kiss hadn’t had any effect on him, and indeed, as if it had never happened.

Basil Cheeves was almost frothing at the mouth and followed her around like a dog. Her glance fell on Evan in his evening dress. He looked dapper as he blended in with the crowd. He was acting the guest rather than the servant tonight. She gave a faint grin. Perhaps she’d shock him by turning up in his bed.

Then perhaps she wouldn’t.

She forgot Evan when Roland Elliot was announced. He looked handsome in his best suit, and every head turned towards him, since he was a stranger to the district.

All she’d ever felt for him came rushing back. She abandoned Basil, who was talking about nothing and was flushed from the amount of drink he’d consumed.

She hurried forward, a smile on her face and her heart leaping in her chest. ‘Roland. I didn’t think you’d come. I’ve missed you. Where is your mother?’

‘Mother died a month ago. I expected you to be at the funeral.’

She vaguely remembered getting a card. ‘I’m so sorry. I had so many engagements to fulfill that I couldn’t get away.’

His brow drew into a frown. ‘My mother left you some pieces of jewellery. I’ve brought it with me.’

She drew him across to where Zachariah stood. ‘This is my host, Mr Zachariah Fleet. May I introduce Mr Roland Elliot. You might remember that I told you about him.’

‘Ah yes … the artist from Portsmouth.’

‘It’s London now.’

Zachariah shook his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to shake the hand of an artist when usually I associate with money men. You don’t take commissions for restoration work by any chance, do you? I have a portrait that’s been damaged. It was scribbled on and then a servant tried to scrub the scribble off.’

‘It doesn’t sound promising, but I’ll see what I can do. If nothing else I might be able to paint a passable reproduction.’

‘Good. I’ll bring it with me when I return to London. You did say you’d moved to London, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. My mother left me a small legacy, and since there was nothing to keep me in Portsmouth I sold my premises there shortly after Alexandra left.’ He took a business card from an enamelled case and handed it to Zachariah. ‘My business has increased considerably as a result. I’ve had to employ someone, and have taken on an apprentice.’

‘You must be very talented.’

Alexandra hugged his arm. ‘Oh … he is, Zachariah. I’m so happy to see you again, Roland.’

‘You look well, Lexie. The country air seems to suit you.’

Nobody else but Roland called her Lexie. She felt guilty for the liberty she’d allowed Evan. She wondered if he’d told Zachariah. She’d heard that men gossiped amongst themselves about such things. But no … she would certainly have been informed that she’d outstayed her welcome.

Now she’d seen Roland again it was as though nobody else mattered.

‘Where are you staying?’ Zachariah asked him.

‘At the Antelope for a day or two, then I must get back to work. A business like mine doesn’t run itself without my input and I’ll shortly need someone to run the business side and take orders.’ He gave her a smile. ‘I was hoping that someone would be you, Lexie, but it seems that the present company has more to offer you than a hardworking tradesman if it keeps you from acknowledging my mother’s death. However, my offer is still open for a short time.’ He gazed around him. ‘What’s the afternoon in aid of … some charity?’

She shrugged. ‘It’s so people can meet and talk socially, and get to know one another.’

Basil Cheeves approached to gaze pointedly at their linked arms. ‘Ah, there you are, Alexandra. Who is this man you’re being so familiar with?’

‘It’s my good friend, Roland Elliot. We grew up together and I’m like a sister to him.’

Roland raised an eyebrow. ‘Wrong, Lexie. I’ve never considered you to be a sister. In fact, I proposed marriage to you when we were quite young, and again before you left for Dorset, if you recall. I’m here to persuade you to return to London with me.’

‘We will talk about it when we have more privacy … Besides, I’m waiting on my legacy.’

‘Ah … so your legacy has brought the cockroaches crawling out of the cupboard, Alexandra. I too have marriage on my mind,’ Basil said.

There was smothered laughter from a couple of the men when Roland eyed Basil up and down and said, ‘Obviously an eight-hundred-pound legacy doesn’t buy much in the way of cockroaches in these parts.’

‘You are insulting, sir.’

Zachariah stepped between them. ‘I think the insult was yours, Basil. It just rebounded back on you.’

Mr Cheeves’ voice rose above the hubbub. ‘Eight hundred pounds! Is that all the flighty creature is worth? It’s a scandal to lead a man on like that.’

‘Only if you choose to make it one, Mr Cheeves. The price you put on Miss Tate was a figure plucked from your own imagination, especially since there is another contender for the legacy, and it is not yet determined who will get it. Come now, shake hands and let’s enjoy the afternoon, especially since Miss Tate is going to play the piano for us, and Mrs Jennings has offered to sing.’

The expressions on the faces of those present told Alexandra they were already enjoying themselves. Wild horses wouldn’t be able to drag them away from the roasting that was taking place. No doubt it would give them something to gossip about after church on Sunday.

The two men eyed each other up. Goodness, she hoped they were not going to fight over her. That would be the last straw.

Roland held out his hand to Basil and grinned. ‘A wager … the man she decides to wed loses the right to any legacy there may be. In fact, he will marry her for love. The one she scorns collects eight hundred pounds for his trouble.’

Basil’s eyes sharpened. ‘Do you have eight hundred pounds at your disposal?’

The rat! What had happened to his protestations of undying love?

Roland nodded and said softly, ‘May the best man win then.’

Dismay uppermost, she gazed from one to the other. ‘Has it never occurred to either of you that I might love someone else?’

‘Name him,’ someone said.

Her glance went to Zachariah. He was gazing across the room to where a stricken Clementine stood, an unguarded expression of such tenderness apparent in his eyes that Alexandra wanted to cry. No matter how much she’d tried he’d never shown any interest in her and never would. All she’d done was hurt two people she admired, for Clementine had never shown any animosity towards her, unless she pushed her into it.

Evan, the loathsome creature, was standing at his shoulder. Her body remembered how his hands had felt on her and it reacted. Evan had shown her what she was made of, which wasn’t much – and he was reminding her to leave Zachariah alone.

Shock hit her. She’d taken the game too far and it had returned with a vengeance to bite her. Was Roland willing to take her without any money to her name; or was it just a game of bluff? There was only one way to find out. ‘You know I always intended to marry you, Roland.’

Taking a wad of notes from his pocket he threw them on the table. ‘There, she doesn’t want you. Consider the transaction completed, Mr Cheeves.’

Basil pocketed the money and smiled. ‘That’s the easiest money I’ve ever laid my hands on. You can have her, and good luck.’

There was a muttering amongst a few of the older men. ‘You cad … shame on you, Cheeves.’

Roland shrugged. ‘I think I got the best of the bargain.’

Alexandra felt cheapened by the exchange. ‘Not yet, you haven’t. Hasn’t it occurred to either of you that I have no intention of being bartered back and forth like a sack of potatoes in the market place?’

‘Yes, it has occurred to me, Lexie, my love. That’s why I’m buying you your freedom, with the only money I have. Remember the story of Pierrot, the poor sad clown who pined for the love of Columbine, only to watch his affection thrown away in favour of Harlequin?’

She recalled the trio of pretty figurines she’d set out on her dressing table. ‘What of them?’

‘I’ve decided I’m not going to be the sad clown to your Columbine.’

‘It’s only a story.’ When he turned to walk away she said, ‘Don’t go, Roland.’

‘I’ve booked two fares on the stagecoach for tomorrow, leaving from Dorchester. If you prefer to stay and you’re not there, then so be it. I’ll leave without you.’

Gently, he kissed her forehead, and then he turned her hand palm up and placed a purse in it. ‘Here’s your legacy from my mother. Think of me when you wear it.’

He turned and walked away. Zachariah followed after him. ‘I’ll see you out.’

Oh God! What if he knew about her indiscretion with Evan and was going to tell Roland?

‘Don’t count on being Harlequin either, because I doubt if Columbine will turn up,’ she flung at his back.

He turned, shrugging. ‘There are other women in the world, and at least you now know what your affections are worth. Very little.’

She felt like weeping. All her grand plans had come to nothing.

Everyone in the room was watching her, waiting for her to break down. Well … she wouldn’t!

She stuck a smile on her face with a paste called pride, and she mingled and talked of nothing in particular for the rest of the afternoon, and she played the piano and sang. All the time Basil Cheeves was bragging of his good fortune, and she was pretending not to hear while others were laughing behind her back.

Zachariah stepped in. He threw a pile of money on the table and drew out a pack of cards. ‘Double or nothing for that eight hundred, Basil.’

Basil’s eyes opened wide and a pink tongue licked his lips. He hesitated.

‘Don’t do it, Zachariah,’ Evan said. ‘You know you’re wretched at cards.’

Zachariah ignored him. ‘Best of three.’

Basil grinned. ‘You’re on.’

Harlequin and Columbine. Hah! Trust Roland to come up with that. He always did prefer the romantic side of things. She didn’t know where Clementine had gone, though she was probably skulking in her chamber or in the nursery drooling over children that didn’t even belong to her.