Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy) (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The line of carriages pulling up to Oakwell Manor was a sight to behold as footmen with torches ran alongside them in the dark and each glittering party stepped out to add to the pageantry of the night.  The county’s best families had gathered for the event to show off their status, reconnect with old friends and form new alliances.  It was a romantic tradition that demanded attention and in all the pageantry it was impossible not to feel the importance of the moment.

Oakwell blazed with candlelight from every window and the spirit of the house was a tangible thing, as if the manor was pleased to be on display and wished to outshine the party-goers.  Despite the fuss over bunting, no detail had been overlooked and the ball room was a shimmering gold and green confection that invited revelry.

Raven waited nervously in her room, allowing Kitty to repair one of the flounces after a thread had given way.  “I am late.”

“Pssht! The party is steps away and you are not late.  Besides, everyone knows it is better to arrive after the first awkward rush.”

“Why?” Raven asked.  “Why is it better?”

Kitty sat back on her heels, looking up at Raven.  “How can anyone as beautiful as you not know the answer to that question?”

Raven crossed her arms.  “That makes no sense, Kitty.  Tell me why.”

“Because you can’t stop an empty room, you can’t steal its breath or seize your triumph from shadows.  Only a crowded room full of guests can fall at your feet, applaud your beauty and ensure that you are never forgotten.”  Kitty stood.  “Makes sense now?”

“Oh.”  Raven swallowed a show of modest arguments to the contrary.  She wasn’t sure about triumphs but she was vain enough to acknowledge that Kitty had made some very valid points.  “Fashionably late is right on time.”

“Good girl.”  Kitty stepped back to survey her handiwork.  “Done and done.”

Raven pivoted to
inspect her reflection in the mirror and smiled.  The purple silk she’d acquired the day of Phillip’s arrival had been transformed into the dress of her dreams.  The eggplant dark color was woven with an undertone of gold that defied description.  Her curves were set off by the daring cut of the bodice though it was not nearly as scandalous as some of the fashions of the day.  Her age required a nod to modesty.  Although her age also generally required adhering to pastel hues, Raven clung to the jewel tones that flattered her coloring.

She touched her lower lip with her tongue moistening the sensitive flesh and evoking the memory of Phillip’s kisses.  The encounter by the lake had been a shy preamble to the passion they’d shared last night.  She leaned forward to study her face more closely, straining to see if the change were visible. 

“What are you thinking over there?” Kitty asked. 

“I’m thinking that I need a touch of stain for my lips and cheeks.”

“A whisper of a touch,” Kitty agreed.  “No need to spoil the picture with garish spots on your cheeks.”

A whisper of color and a dusting of powder on her skin and Raven decided that there was nothing left to delay the moment.  If triumph awaited, she was not sorry of it, but it was Phillip Warrick alone she wished to blind with her beauty. 

Well, not blind altogether but I shouldn’t mind if after tonight, every woman in England looks like a blank sheep in comparison…

It was a wicked aim but it made her smile, a secretive and mischievous thing.

Raven was ready. 

***

It was a larger affair than Phillip had expected and the house’s ground floor overflowed with guests bedecked in their finest.  The cool spring night air made it tolerable as every door and window was opened to keep things from turning too warm, especially after the music began and exertions could send weaker souls to seek out fainting couches.

One of the reason Phillip dreaded dances was the crush and airless perfumed humidity of some of London’s narrow salons.  Why anyone enjoyed the din of a hundred conversations over music was a mystery to him.  He looked out across the milling room that shifted to give the dancers room as the musicians tuned to herald the first reel, searching for any sign of Raven.  He’d waited at the bottom of the stairs for as long as he could without drawing attention and only prayed he hadn’t missed his chance to secure her first dance.

“Are you not jumping into the fray, Mr. Warrick?” Lord Trent asked at his elbow.

“Ah, not just yet.”  Phillip kept his hands politely clasped behind his back.  “I’m surveying the battlefield first.”

“Wise boy,” Trent nodded.  “Though you’d best make your move soon.  I’ve had no less than three very keen mothers inquire as to your marital status and financial disposition.”

“God.”

“Yes, and because I am a wicked friend, I may have hinted that you were genuinely looking for the next Countess Warrick.”

“You did not, sir!” Phillip was aghast at the prospect.  “I’ll be dodging milk toast all night!”

“Let us hope so,” Trent said sagely, a wry grin lighting up his features.  “Let us hope so.”  Trent strolled away, openly pleased with his mischief and the scowl on Phillip’s face. 

So much for hiding in these ferns!

Phillip stepped out but only to go back out into the main hall, overtly removing himself from the line of fire.  Since most of the guests had already arrived and the receiving line was finished, it was a good place to catch his breath.  But it also allowed for another view of the manor’s grand staircase if Raven ever—

Dear Mother of Heaven…how did I ever think to take this in stride?

His lover and the ruler of his heart was perched at the top of the staircase in the most regal and striking shade of purple he had ever seen.  Only when her eyes found him, did she smile and begin her descent.  Her gaze never wavered from him and Phillip had to grip the ornately carved ballistrade to stop himself from rushing toward her.

A small diamond tiara in her hair and a wide collar of stones at her throat only completed the illusion of a conquering princess alighting to bless her lowly captain of the guards.  She held out a gloved hand, the soft kid leather dyed to compliment her dress, and allowed him to kiss her fingers in greeting.  “Mr. Warrick!  Did I keep you waiting long?”

He shook his head. 
Hell, I’d have waited until dawn if seeing you like this is my reward. 
  “Raven,” he whispered.  “You look…”

“Like a grape?” she teased.

He smiled.  “Yes.  You are the most beautiful and alluring grape I have ever seen.”

She laughed.  “Such a compliment!  However will I resist you, sir?”

He leaned in, levity giving way to desire.  “You won’t,” he said softly.  Phillip stepped back, retaining his hold of her hand.  “May I have this dance?”

Raven’s cheeks blushed as she silently nodded her assent. 

He escorted her to the ballroom and marveled at how different the sensation was to enter with Raven on his arm.  A hushed ripple of admiration and speculation pooled out around them and every eye turned to see the black haired beauty at his side.  Her fingers tightened their grip on his arm and Phillip tried to ease her anxiety.  “They are in awe of you, Miss Wells.”

She smiled.  “They are studying me closely to see if I have some glorious flaw.”

“Like a humped back?” he played along.

“It would make for a better gothic tale,” she agreed.  “If the earl took in some poor scarred and misshapen creature…”

“I’m sure they are just as happy to see a fairy tale princess in their midst.”

Raven looked at him askance.  “Now who is the optimist?”

He pulled her out onto the marble floor as the musicians began a waltz, and then into his arms. “Dance with me, Raven Wells.”

She instinctively relaxed in the circle of his hold, tipping her head back as the world fell away.  His eyes were on her and she was transformed into a creature of air and light, the heat from his body surrounding her and shielding her from all care.  It was a waltz but she could not hear the music over the beating of her own heart.

Nothing tied her to fear, anxiety over the gossip of her peers as inconsequential as dust.  Phillip masterfully guided them through the kaleidoscope of dancers and she forgot to hide her pleasure. 

“What are you smiling about, Miss Wells?”

“I am grinning like a fool because all my feminine schemes to impress you with how cool and unaffected I am and how mature I can be; are all for naught!  I am giddy, sir, and even knowing how unbecoming it is, I don’t care!”

“I like you when you are giddy and it is far more appealing than you suspect.”  They skirted the far side of the room closest to the open windows and then moved back into the heart of the floor.  The music carried them both and he leaned forward slightly to whisper in the sensitive shell of her ear, “Will you come to me again tonight, Raven?”

“Yes!” Raven answered.  “I must reward you for the patience you will be forced to show tonight, sir.”

“My patience?”

“For I will have to dance with as many men as it takes to repair my reputation after making such a spectacle of myself in your arms,” she sighed sweetly.  “No one looking at us will fail to notice how I feel about you, Mr. Warrick.”

“Good!”  It was his turn to laugh.  “Let them envy me and by all means, dance with every ugly man in the room if you must.  I shall be as patient as a saint.”

“Only the ugly ones?” she teased with a pout.

“Very well.  Not just the ugly ones.  You may also dance with any man over the age of seventy, no matter how handsome he is.”

“Phillip!” she protested gently. “Let us say fifty.”

“A compromise.  Sixty?”

“Sixty it is,” she conceded then dared a glance over his shoulder to assess the company.  “Oh, dear.  There are quite a few men who fall into those categories.  I may have overstepped the mark.”

“Too late now,” he declared.  “You will have to make the best of it and I will simply have to do my best to console you later.  I will not stay to watch, Miss Wells.  I have a good understanding of my limits.”

The music ended before she could serve him a saucy reply.  Raven curtsied deeply.  “Thank you, Mr. Warrick.  That was a waltz I shall never forget.”

He bowed and then formally escorted her from the floor.  Raven was sure that her slippers were not touching the ground.  She’d jested about dancing with other men but Raven wasn’t completely confident that—

“May I have this dance, Miss Wells?”

She turned to be faced with a man who was neither unattractive nor elderly, but no matter how much she adored her Mr. Warrick; Raven was a young woman at her first dance and she was
not
going to forego her merriment.

“Why, yes!  How kind of you!” She took his proffered hand and stole one quick glance at the grim jealous gleam in Phillip’s eyes before he retreated from the ballroom. 
Good, then.  He has my heart and my body, so perhaps it is good for him to simmer a bit.

The power of her feminine wiles was a heady thing and Raven innocently explored the polite edges of the game as one dance request, became another, and another.  Between partners, there was no time to leave the floor until the orchestra finally took a brief pause.  Then the competition for glasses of punch and refreshments created a comical rush of men seeking to vie for the honor of bringing her a piece of cake or arguing that a rival had failed to relinquish her quickly enough to allow them to bring her a small iced dessert.

She felt like a lily floating in a pond with dozens of fish nipping at her ankles for attention.  By the time Lord Trent appeared, she was grateful for the reprieve.  “Come, Raven!  Dance with your crusty old guardian and let these men shamelessly fight over your card while we take a turn.”

“Gentlemen,” she smiled at them apologetically as she took Geoffrey’s hand, “if you’ll excuse me.”

They dramatically lamented her loss and Geoffrey ignored every single one of them to pull her out onto the floor.  “God, what have the young men of this country come to?  Did that one boy mumble something about surviving on the dew of moonbeams until you returned to his side?  Dear Lord!  Worst prose in the history of history!”

“Not everyone has your natural gifts, Lord Trent,” she demurred.  “I heard Lady Baybrook say that you could charm a blackberry bramble into giving you roses if you set your mind to it.”

“Ah! I knew I invited that old sow to visit for good reason!” Trent smiled as they turned.  “Took her long enough to earn her oats, wouldn’t you say?”

She gasped at his humor but took it in stride.  “All right then.  But let me take this fleeting chance to thank you, your lordship.”

“For what?”

“For everything.  For tonight, and the silks, and the jewels and…you are generous to me in too many ways to name but I did not want you to think it had gone unnoticed.”

His brow furrowed.  “Don’t turn maudlin.  I like it better when you pout about not having enough bonnets, girl.”

“Very well.  I am happier for having said it.” 

“And?” he pushed gently.

“And,” she gifted him with a wicked smile. “I will make a note to pout and ask you for more things if that is the only thing that pleases you.”