The Bride Price (10 page)

“Mmm…I don’t think you quite understand the picture you make at this very moment.” His lips were a breath from hers, his voice low and deep. “Your eyes are nearly black with desire, the blue all but swallowed from within.” The finger
traveled down her chin, down her neck, to the hollow of her throat. Her head stayed perfectly still, as if he had sculpted her to the position.

His cheek brushed hers, his lips barely touching her ear. “Don’t you wish to unlock that passion again, Caroline?”

“No,” she whispered, unsure how she’d managed to do so.

“Are you sure?” The little whispers of air made every small hair in her ear and on her neck stand on end.

“Quite.” Her heart thumped an erratic beat.

He pulled away slowly, the look in his eyes satisfied. Clearly disbelieving her. “I think I could take you here. Prop you up against one of these ancient pillars and drive into you until you bucked and screamed to the ancient gods for release. I think you would simply tip your head back and let me do untold things to your body and mind.”

“Never.”

He hummed something. “Yes, of course you wouldn’t be passive. I’d hardly be interested in driving you against those pillars if you were.”

She squeezed the lemon in her hand. “I meant that your scenario will never happen.”

“That sounds like something of a challenge, Caroline. Are you attending the party tonight?”

She tried to hide her anxiety. An entire night of this cat-and-mouse game loomed before her.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smiled slowly and backed away step by step, still looking at her. Even stepping
away
from her, he was still the hunter, she the hunted. “See you tonight, lovely.”

Grown women were seen crying in the streets when they did not receive an invitation to the first ball of the tournament, which takes place tonight. It was this author’s delight and distress to see a countess of
great magnitude
break down in the most fashionable Chattery Hattery milliner shop when informed that she had not made the list. Scandalous deeds are surely afoot tonight as the dark and charismatic personalities headlining this competition mix in social pursuit…where wolves and lambs play in a game where the lambs rarely win…

T
he local gentry and Town fashionable had turned out in full force for the gathering. Judging by the calculating gazes on the faces of the participants, Caroline had a feeling that a number of the more carefree country girls were going to be in for a tumble or two, if they weren’t careful.

“Lady Sarah. It is a lovely evening.”

The redheaded man sidled up to them, but his eyes never left Caroline, even as he addressed
Sarah. The earl’s mocking words ran through her head once more.

“Mr. Everly,” Sarah said, with the insipid smile she could never completely get rid of in social situations. “May I introduce my cousin Mrs. Martin.”

He bowed, his eyes staying on hers. “Charmed.”

She curtsied back and pasted a smile on her face. “Likewise, Mr. Everly.”

“I saw you at the racing and fencing competitions with Lady Sarah, but don’t believe I have had the pleasure before.”

“I rarely venture to London.” The poor choice she had made in running off with Patrick had guaranteed little reception in social circles. Only the earl’s force in making Patrick marry her let her move in them now at all.

“No season then?”

“No, I married before my season might have taken place.” She likely wouldn’t have had a season anyway if the earl was to be believed. He hadn’t been in the country at the time, part of the reason she had been able to make the choices she had.

“Ah. And your husband…?”

Her pasted smile grew more strained. How she hated these games. And that this man was starting one in front of Sarah spoke volumes about his character. “Deceased.”

He looked about as sad at that statement as she had expected. She increased the intensity of her smile. “So how do you come to find yourself at the estate playing for a chance at Lady Sarah’s hand?”

His fake conciliatory look fell into surprise,
then discomfort at the switch of the conversation. “The fair lady Sarah is the most splendid prize,” he said with a feigned smile.

“Very true, Mr. Everly.” She smiled at Sarah, who was looking awkward and miserable. “Those who discover the truth of that statement will win a prize indeed.”

Caroline feigned a look toward the other side of the room. “Oh, if you’ll pardon us, Mr. Everly, Lady Tevon seems to need our attention.”

“Of course,” he hastened to say, suddenly looking quite eager to get away.

Sarah hurried alongside her as they walked away from her “suitor.” “Oh, Caro.”

“Hush. Come, let’s find better company.”

“Hardly possible in this crowd,” her companion muttered.

“Poor Everly must be in terrible straits tonight to have chased you away that quickly, Lady Sarah, Mrs. Martin.”

The dreaded voice.

They pulled to a stop and turned to see Sebastien Deville leaning against the back side of the pillar they were passing, hidden from previous view. A perfect spot from which to spy. A brandy snifter dangled from his fingertips.

“Good evening, Mr. Deville,” Sarah said

Deville bowed low to her, giving her his full attention, unlike what Everly had done. “And a good evening to you, Lady Sarah. It’s been weeks since I last saw you in Town. You are looking lovelier than ever.”

Sarah’s cheeks flushed with delight. Caroline
could feel her own heat in anger. Sarah did look quite lovely tonight. Lady Tevon, for all her other faults, had a marvelous sense of style and had done a nice job picking out a new wardrobe for her charge.

But how dare he attempt to work his false charm on Sarah.

“Thank you, Mr. Deville. You are looking in fine health yourself.”

He smiled, a smile not quite edged in the same way as the ones he gave her, but she could see Sarah’s color heighten further. “I find a good hunt will do that.” Aquamarine eyes suddenly turned to her. “Mrs. Martin.”

“Mr. Deville.”

“I hadn’t realized you two had met,” Sarah said, switching her gaze between them.

“We haven’t,” she said in a clipped voice.

Deville smiled in a lazy manner. “Haven’t we?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

“Come, Sarah, let’s find Lady Tevon.”

“Yes,
run
along.”

She bristled, but pushed Sarah forward. Sarah didn’t stumble, the innate grace that she had when she was comfortable saving her. Concentrating on Caroline, she had obviously forgotten to be nervous.

“Caro, what is going on? How do you know Mr. Deville?”

“An unfortunate circumstance, I assure you.”

Sarah stopped in the shade of a potted plant, her knowledge of the ballroom giving them a mostly secluded spot. “Tell me.”

Caroline waved a hand. “Our paths crossed. Foul luck, that.”

Sarah’s eyes searched hers. “Oh, Caro, you aren’t falling for him, are you?”

“Pardon me?” she asked, shocked into immobility.

“Falling for Deville? Lord knows you wouldn’t be the first.”

“Sarah, dear, I would as soon fall for that Mr. Everly as Mr. Deville.” She injected just the right amount of sincerity. She nodded internally.

“No.” Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think so. They are little the same type of animal, though Everly wishes they were.”

“You
know
that I would not fall for Mr. Deville’s sort.”

Again
went left unsaid.

Sarah worried her lip. “Of course, Caro, of course. But Patrick—”

“Was a mistake I do not intend to repeat. I’ve told you that.” She turned to walk in the other direction, behind the row of plants, and found a man standing farther within the shadows, watching them.

“Can we not get away?” she muttered under her breath, though not low enough, it seemed.

The man held up his hands in surrender. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was here before you stopped.”

Sarah’s chin lifted. “That is—that is little reason to continue to eavesdrop.”

Caroline, pleased with this reaction from her friend, watched the unknown man step into the light. He was pleasant-looking, straight brown
hair, brown eyes. Friendly enough, if any of the men at this event could be deemed such.

“True, but I found myself most intrigued.”

“Curiosity is not an excuse for ungen—ungentlemanly behavior.” Sarah’s chin stayed firmly in the air.

The man smiled and held out his hand. “I find myself without someone to introduce me, and a most firm desire to be introduced despite the impropriety. William Manning. My abject apologies, Lady Sarah.”

Sarah gingerly took his hand. “Mr. Manning.”

“And Mrs. Martin.”

Caroline’s irritation decreased a notch as the man returned his attention to Sarah. She couldn’t detect any subterfuge coming from his quarter, but she would remain alert. Fortune hunters were always on the prowl, and she would have to discover his motive before any trust formed.

“Out of everyone here, I was most interested to meet you, Lady Sarah, and I see that interest was not misplaced.” The words put Caroline on edge, but she still couldn’t detect anything but sincerity from the man.

“Why would you find yourself interested to meet me?” Her friend looked baffled.

“You are part of the inspiration for this competition, are you not?”

Sarah lost a little of her spark. “I believe I am more of a side note.”

William’s head cocked to the side. “But not as far as the King is concerned, no?”

She looked startled for a moment, then her eyes
narrowed. “And why would you think that?”

He smiled. “I am merely an observer. An impartial judge, if you will.”

Caroline had never seen William Manning before, but there was something familiar about him. She couldn’t place her finger on it.

“You are not a competitor then?” She hadn’t seen him in the ranks, but who knew what new deviltries were in store.

“Alas, no.” He smiled.

This man was dangerous in a much different way. There was a feeling of peace about him. Of settlement. That he had searched inside himself and accepted what he’d found. And with those friendly eyes, he was the type of man to whom you spilled all your deepest secrets.

Sarah seemed to understand that too, as her face vied between wariness and hope. Wariness built from years of crushed interactions. Hope for another friendly face in this madness.

William’s smile widened. “May I escort you ladies to your destination?”

Caroline made the decision based on instinct. “Yes. Perhaps you would escort us near the dance floor? The music is about to start.”

And if he hurt her friend at all tonight she’d rip off his arms.

The humor in his eyes seemed to say that he understood this fully well. It increased her wariness as well as her comfort. An odd combination, to be sure.

He held an arm out to each of them.

“From where do you hail, Mr. Manning?”

“From London, but most recently from the Americas. Diplomatic matters for the King.”

The room grew more crowded as the musicians tuned their instruments.

“How intriguing. Where did you travel?” Sarah asked.

Caroline kept an eye on her friend and their new acquaintance; at the same time she was searching the crowd, categorizing the behaviors of all the “suitors.” Which ones needed to have a further eye kept upon them, which were inclined to drink or behave badly.

A long violin note heralded the start of the music and dancing. William Manning asked Sarah to dance, and they went merrily into the throng. A young man asked Caroline as well, but she declined, sinking into a chair near the matrons’ area. A place to watch charges and catch up on the gossip.

A perfect place to make sure the flames of her plan were fanned.

The elder matrons rose, and a number of the more salacious middle-aged women took their places. A cross-section of neighborhood gentry and women of the town. All slightly scandalous.

“A good choice of suitors for Lady Sarah. Can you imagine Sloane as a peer? Any woman’s dream husband.”

“Sloane? No, Sebastien Deville.” Another voice tittered. “Can you imagine what he would be like to come home to every night?”

“Except if you were married to him, it would be highly unlikely that
you
would be the one he would come home to.”

“But having all of that attention on you even for an instant…”

“An instant is all it would be. Deville gives, takes, and goes on his way.”

“I’ve heard that the giving and taking is worth every amount of the resulting pain.”

“You should try him then, dear. Although he is very choosy. Surprising, given his avaricious nature with the debutantes.”

“I can speak to his talents,” said a sensual woman whom Caroline disliked on sight. Bold. The type of woman who attracted or repelled. “And I will speak to them again soon.”

“Harriet, your overconfidence is tiring,” another woman said. “I haven’t seen him so much as look at you tonight. I think he has other prey.”

“Who?” Harriet looked around as if there wasn’t another option to her beauty or skills. She met Caroline’s eyes for a second before moving back to the conversation. “Besides, he is going to win this competition. And I for one intend to ensure a place near him.”

“Why?”

“Do you know what a man like that will do with the title and power he gains?” A thread of desire and greed wove through her words. “He’ll move mountains.”

“When has Deville shown any desire to be part of society? He loathes it.”

Harriet shrugged, a secret smile curving her mouth. “You don’t look beneath the surface. He’ll win. Nothing will stop him from it.”

Caroline begged to differ. She had a few well-
placed plans to stop Sebastien Deville from winning.

“I still think Sloane has a chance. And Lord Benedict has just as much of a reason, if not more than Deville to win.”

“And don’t forget Timtree.”

“Amanda, you just like Timtree because he tupped you in the rose garden.”

The woman’s cheeks tinged pink, but she held her head. “He showed good sense in the horse hunt.”

“Yes, but what would he have done had the rings been in the right places? It takes more than cunning to win this type of competition.”

A woman near her turned to another. “What is this about the right place?”

“The rings were not positioned as they should be. Declared to be a prank.”

“Oh! And the epees too?”

“Likely a prank as well.” The one woman turned back to the main conversation, but the other, the one closer to Caroline, looked thoughtful.

Caroline leaned toward her. “
I
heard it was the Cheevers ghost,” she confided.

The woman’s eyes widened and she looked around. “The ghost? The rumors are true?”

“Only the
best
houses have ghosts, of course. A mischievous spirit. I heard from one of the maids that she saw the ghost touching the blades and flashing a light. Lady Tevon said she heard it was spotted on the grounds of the hunt. And Mrs. Dalworthy mentioned seeing something ghostly in the halls.”

None of them had said any such thing. Though that wouldn’t matter an hour from now. Not with the setup she had created earlier, before the fencing competition, planting the seeds. A little water here and…

The woman’s eyes turned speculative. “Of
course
. That must be what I saw last eve. And it makes so much
sense
.”

Caroline nodded solemnly. “Be careful.”

“Oh, I
will
.”

And within fifteen minutes the conversation rippled through the assembly. “Have you heard? The house is haunted, it’s true. More than ten sightings already. Mrs. Kitchner says a spirit was in her bedroom. And that it moved her silver brush while she was sitting
right
there.”

Perfect.

The woman who had “started” the rumor had long since left and another had taken her place. She turned to Caroline. “A ghost. My word!”

Caroline put a hand to her chest. “Incredible!”

And the night continued on. She turned down dance after dance, while Sarah continued to accept them. It worked just as she planned, with the men who were coming to ask her to dance turning to Sarah instead. With her gentle movements and pinkened cheeks, courtesy of their new friend, Mr. Manning, who kept showing up at random intervals to spar with her, the other men began watching Sarah speculatively on their own.