Some Enchanted Waltz (25 page)

“I ordered a bath.” He informed her. “They’ll be bringing it up straight away.”

“Here?” Tara asked, confused by his proclamation.

“Lady Anne has a shortage of rooms with a few added guests so I offered her mine. There is no reason for us to take up two rooms, is there?”

She shook her head, wondering if he spoke the truth or merely used the influx of new guests as an excuse to install himself here with her. Either way, she didn’t mind.

I’ve got big balls, I’ve got big balls . . .
That annoying refrain surfaced in her mind, refusing to go away. It was the music of AC/DC
again
, haunting her mind with their gritty, heavy metal sexual commentary. It was a tongue in cheek song about balls being held for charity, pleasure and so forth, with the meaning of the term ‘balls’ being up to the listener’s interpretation. Why did she know this stuff? Where did it come from? It just sprang up in her mind, the words of a bizarre song she couldn’t forget and yet at the same time couldn’t recall. Tara blushed and looked away from him.

“We are in agreement then.” Adrian murmured,  

“Whatever .” Tara mumbled, brushing her temples as the throbbing returned.

“What is it?” Adrian’s hand captured hers. “Are you feeling ill?”

“No. It’s just . . .” Tara shrugged, finding it difficult to explain. “Sometimes random images or words pop into my mind and I don’t know what to make of them.”

“You remembered something.” Adrian lifted her chin so that she was looking up at him. The dark brows were knit together with concern. “Tell me.”

Oh, God, no. Not telling him that one!
“It’s nothing, some silly song; a
phrase
from a song that doesn’t make sense. I’m fine.” Tara leaned into him, pressing her face against his shoulder to hide her amused smirk. Adrian was rather well endowed, after all.

The water boys appeared with their burdens and began filling the tub.

“Did you have fun?” Tara asked as he began to disrobe in front of her. She sat by the window torn between shyness and a desire to touch the rippling muscles of his shoulders and biceps as she watched him step into the large tub and sit down.

“I gained some amusement. Care to join me, little vixen?”

Tara blushed, tempted yet knowing they had little time to dally before the ball.

When next she chanced to look at him, he had removed himself from the tub and had one long leg propped on the edge of it as he carefully dried himself. The tangled mass of hair about his neck would need attention. She moved to the dressing table, picked up the tortoise shell brush and comb, and quietly moved behind him as he wrapped the towel about his waist.

“You have a tangle. Let me help you.” She offered as he turned about with surprise. A satisfied smiled parted his lips as he took the seat at her dressing table and watched her from the mirror with those sultry grey eyes.

Without a word, Tara gathered the damp mass in one hand and began smoothing it out with her fingertips before applying the brush.

The silence enveloping them brought a strong undercurrent of desire. She could not resist temptation as the rugged arms and shoulders begged her touch. She found her right forefinger tracing down his shoulder to caress the dark hairs of his chest. His hand snaked up to capture her wrist.

“I wish to have it loose tonight, to compliment my costume.” The silken voice intruded, bringing her back to her task.

“And what would that be, my lord?” The soft strands of ebony were combed out until they shone beneath her fingers.

“A pirate.” Supple fingers encircled her wrists as he smiled at her from the mirror. “Be warned, perhaps this night some gallant rogue will spirit you away to paradise.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, my lord?”

“Does my lady have a preference?” Adrian rose. His arms went about her waist, pulling her to him with fierce eyes.

 “I’ll have both.”

They moved as one until their lips met and they were united in a surge of desire. Tara savored the taste of his mouth as it melted into her own, as the powerful fingertips traced up and down her spine, evoking a deep yearning to be pressed beneath him. 

“Adrian.” Tara whispered his name with reverence as his lips caressed her neck, leaving a trail with liquid fire. She could feel his arousal beneath the thin muslin gown as he crushed her hard against him.

“I thought the emeralds would...” Lady Fiona’s voice broke the spell between them as she marched into the room without knocking. Tara gasped, intending to break away from Adrian’s embrace as she spun about with surprise. Adrian wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling Tara tight against his towel-clad body, deftly hiding his arousal from his mother’s steely regard.

Tara wished she could melt into the carpet as the black taffeta clad woman stared at them with assessing grey eyes. Married or not, there was something quite mortifying at being happened upon in a moment of scorching desire by your seducer’s mother.

To make matters worse, Adrian appeared to be the only one of the trio who was not disturbed. In the split second in which the two women stared at each other in horrified silence, he gestured to the black mourning gown Lady Fiona was wearing, “Tell me you are not wearing
that
tonight, unless you intend to go as the Grim Reaper.”

“Since when do you give a fig for what I wear?” Lady Fiona snapped, her face returning to its normal coloration as his distraction worked on her vanity.

“We are presenting my bride to the peerage. I hardly think mourning attire is appropriate.”

“I thought these emeralds would suit her tonight, they will compliment the gown she is wearing.” She opened the jewelry case to display a heavy necklace studded with emeralds, with teardrop earrings to match.

While Tara gazed at them with wide eyes, Adrian reached for the box, holding her tight against him with the other arm. His mother surrendered the opened case to him. Adrian held it before them for Tara to admire.

“You may keep them.” Lady Fiona remarked as Tara gasped with delight. “They were given to me by Adrian’s grandmother when I became Lady Dillon. Tis a great comfort to find that the successive generation of the Dillon family is being earnestly established.”

As Tara raised her eyes to offer thanks, she felt the stinging sarcasm of her mother-in-law’s words. Before she knew it, she was blushing to the roots of her hair under the steady gaze of Fiona Dillon.

“And you just happened to have these packed and ready for the occasion.” Adrian quipped, sensing Tara’s discomfort. He was a master at games of wit, an accomplished swordsman deflecting a mortal thrust with practiced grace.

“No, I had them removed from the safety deposit box at the bank while we were in Cork. Jasper delivered them to me at Lady Blakely’s. I’d forgotten about them until we purchased the gowns at Madame Beaumont’s establishment.” The steel eyes moved to her son with stiff reproof. “I’ll be back when you’ve made yourself decent. We’ve much to do to prepare Tara for this evening.” She walked rigidly out of the door, leaving her mantle of frost behind to quell the sparks igniting between the couple.

Tara bolted from him as soon as the door closed, before he could resume their place before his mother’s intrusion. In response, he gave a weary sigh, turning his attentions to his costume for the ball.

That woman could kill springtime with a single word
.  Tara thought and then smiled as she realized the perfect costume for Lady Fiona;
 The Frost Queen
. A silver gown with a few diamonds and some glitter on her skin and she could freeze the entire assemblage with her icy demeanor.

Adrian sucked in his breath to contain a gasp, entranced by the vision before him as he returned to their chamber. His mother and Lady Anne’s maid had transformed his lovely wife into an alluring enchantress sure to beguile every male in the ballroom.

“Ethereal, is she not?” His mother beamed. “A fairy princess washed up on the shores of her beloved, just like Deidre of the Sorrows.”

“Bewitching.” Adrian agreed, finding words difficult. Tara was stunning, a true fairy queen who chanced to cross over into his realm. That gown she’d chosen was straight out of his fantasies, where she’d danced before him in her true state, seducing him, beguiling him to lay with her in the mossy bed of the forest. Her hair was swept up into a shimmering cascade of burnished copper curls that danced along her temples and down the white column of her neck. A wreath of silk leaves graced her head, holding her curls in place, and the emeralds dangling from her ears and throat glittered in the lowering sunlight. They were perfect for Tara, matching her emerald eyes.

He moved closer, unable to pull his eyes from this beguiling vision. The soft folds of the forest green hugged her trim body, emphasizing her gentle curves. The fine, transparent netting material held in place with wire looked like gossamer fairy wings sprouting from her back, the same material made from the sheer sleeves. All Tara lacked was a scepter with which to command her sprites and elves to do her bidding.

“You aren’t dressed, milord.” Her royal majesty smiled. “I’ve a date with a ferocious pirate. Where is he? He promised to abduct me and take me to paradise.”

“I must prepare myself.” His mother quipped. “Lady Anne has a costume for me.”

“The Grim Reaper’s wife?” Adrian couldn’t restrain himself. “Mrs. Hades?”

Mother sniffed, ignoring his jest. “I shall meet you downstairs in one hour. Now mind that dress while I’m out. Not one hair out of place, young man.  Remember, she is to be presented to Sir Ambercromby.” Mother scolded, her meaning clear.

Adrian made a low bow. “As you wish, Madame.”  Once his mother left them he changed quickly into his pirate attire. He was looking forward to the conclusion of this evening. He would have Tara in his bed at last. He was confident after last night’s interlude his goal would finally be reached. Tara would be his completely.

Tara seemed pleased by his costume. He planned to wear his hair unbound. Tara teased it out for him to give it more volume. She added a thin braid one side of his head, and began adding bits of jewelry and beads to a braid on the other side. Adrian frowned at his reflection. He thought the beads and jewelry in his hair was a tad too feminine for a pirate, and yet, it was clear Tara liked the effect. She said it made him look like Captain Jack Sparrow, someone she apparently knew in her old life. The way her eyes lit up when she spoke of this fellow, Adrian couldn’t help feeling jealous of the blighter. Apparently his wife found the man vastly appealing.

Once his hairstyle was complete Tara asked if he had a dark red scarf that she might tie about his head. He didn’t.  Undaunted, Tara searched her trunk and found a red silk shawl. She folded it precisely and tied about his head, making him look like a gypsy instead of a pirate. He donned a patch over one eye. Tara removed it, saying it spoiled the effect. With a scabbard hung over the bottle green frock coat he’d borrowed from an earlier decade and thigh high top boots, his costume was complete.

“You look positively dashing and dangerous, my lord pirate. And quite sexy.”

Adrian gave her a long look. In truth, he was a little taken aback by her ribald comment about his sexuality, although . . . he couldn’t deny that the pirate costume held a definite appeal for the lass. “I expect my threatening escort will frighten away any competition for your attentions, Lady of the Mists.”

“No worries there. I’m not planning on doing any dancing.”

“Come now, after all the work we’ve done? You must dance a little. It will appear odd if you do not.”

Tara shrugged, giving him a look of uncertainty. He took her hand and wrapped his arm about her waist. “One last lesson, my love.” He whispered, hoping to bolster her spirits. They whirled about the bedchamber with laughter, lost in each other’s embrace with the memory of that night in Cork when they danced alone in the parlor. This time they were in costume, the pirate and the fairy queen. Adrian spun her about in a sultry waltz, his eyes fastened upon her with determination. She adapted easily to the steps of the scandalous dance, seeming to take to it naturally.

“If only the quadrille were as easily mastered.” Tara managed between giggles as he twirled her about and stole a sensual kiss as they reached the end of the room.

“You are beautiful; no one will notice if your steps falter.”

When the major-domo announced the Viscount and Viscountess of Glengarra, Lord and Lady Dillon, to the gathering an hour later, Tara held her breath and stiffened her spine as Adrian led her through the gilded doors and into the glittering ballroom.

His mother, announced as Lady James Dillon was announced after them, entering with Lady Blakely. Lady Anne had provided Fiona with a Greek Goddess costume. Her hair had been swept up in a cascade of curls, similar to Tara’s, held in place by a wreath of golden leaves. The elegantly draped white Grecian dress was belted, with one shoulder bare, one draped with fabric, and sandals of gold graced Lady Fiona’s dainty feet. She had a gold bow and an attractive sling of arrows hung across her shoulders. Tara was impressed with Lady Anne's ingenuity, and by her mother-in-law’s regal beauty.

The room was brimming with red uniforms. Tara’s heart lurched into her throat as memories of that dark night threatened her. Her arm was locked in Adrian’s. She clutched his arm with her free hand as they passed the bright red line of soldiers that led to Sir Ambercromby.