The School for Brides (22 page)
Read The School for Brides Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
Eva examined Noelle’s serene face. Was it possible Noelle hoped that she would be exposed and ruined? It was a strange thought, but it would certainly explain her sudden arrival on Eva’s doorstep and her insistence that Eva accompany her this evening. Or maybe she hoped to somehow scandalize her uncaring mother. What better way to accomplish that than to flaunt a bastard sister around London?
She leveled a pointed stare on Noelle. “Why are you really doing this, Noelle? I am nothing but a shameful secret, a product of our father’s indiscretion. Yet, you are risking everything to treat me like a princess tonight. Why?”
Noelle looked at her with surprise. It took a moment before she smiled softly in the dim light. “You are my sister. Regardless of your birth, you are my family.”
“There must be more,” Eva interjected. She wouldn’t get out of this coach until she had answers. “Tell me the real reason for this game.”
With a sigh, Noelle leaned forward and reached for Eva’s hand. “Father and Mother hated each other, and seldom spoke unless it was to ask to pass something at mealtime. I often wonder if Meg and I are not the offspring of the gardener.” She bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “Your mother and we girls were his happiness. I cannot begrudge Charlotte’s giving him moments of joy. So yes, I risk much to claim you as kin. I will have it no other way.”
Thankfully the shadows hid the shimmer of tears in Eva’s eyes as she smiled and shook her head slowly. “You are an odd and wonderful young woman, Noelle.”
Noelle grinned. “You would not change a thing about me.”
Eva drew in and released a big sigh. She squeezed her sister’s hand. “No, indeed, I would not.”
T
he overwhelming scent of perfume and thousands of blooms, in overflowing vases, caused Eva to falter slightly as Noelle led her, arm in arm, toward the ballroom. The hall was packed with people, men in their finery and women in vivid gowns, as if each was fighting to outdo the others in color and design.
he overwhelming scent of perfume and thousands of blooms, in overflowing vases, caused Eva to falter slightly as Noelle led her, arm in arm, toward the ballroom. The hall was packed with people, men in their finery and women in vivid gowns, as if each was fighting to outdo the others in color and design.
Eva struggled not to gawk like a ninny at the high ceiling in the foyer, painted a pale blue with a smattering of fluffy white clouds scattered across the surface. Whoever the artist was, he was very talented. It was almost as if Pennington Manor had no roof and she was staring at a bright summer sky.
“This house is a palace.” She leaned close to Noelle’s ear in order to be heard over the sound of dozens of voices.
“It is grand.” Noelle gripped her tightly as a man in a peacock blue coat brushed past. “Aunt Penn does have a desire for the dramatic. Last year she insisted all her women guests dress in red and the men in black. It was stunning.”
“I can imagine.” Eva cast one last glance at the ceiling before they left the hall. She could spend hours lying on her back on the marble floor, just staring at the clouds and daydreaming.
“See that man over there talking to the woman with the green feathers in her hair?” Noelle pointed discreetly behind her fan, and Eva looked where indicated. The man was tall and thin with a decidedly boyish face. “Last year Mother pushed me to accept his suit, until he was caught by Margaret in a compromising situation with one of our footmen. They were both dismissed quite handily. Now Mother has given up trying to match me. She believes her only chance for grandchildren rests with our sister.”
It was impossible to picture Noelle heavily laden with child. Noelle often deemed herself unfit for marriage, and was quite content to allow the rest of society to repopulate.
Eva took a turn to tease. “I would not disavow men completely, sister. You might find one tonight who sweeps you off to his castle. Then you will spend the rest of your days happily filling out a branch of his family tree.”
Noelle grimaced and cast a quick glance around the hallway outside the ballroom. “I would have a better chance of getting hit by a falling star than that. Men prefer women who cling to their every word, not question everything they say.” She winked. “My mother calls me impossible.”
The two sisters giggled, and Eva teased, “On that, your mother and I agree.”
They waited until a large family moved to the front of the line and then slipped unannounced into the ballroom behind them. Eva thought it better that way. Though she was dressed like a sparkling silver Christmas star, the less attention she drew to herself, the better their chances to survive the evening unscathed.
This was to be her first and last society ball, and she planned to enjoy it to the fullest. Unfortunately, they had taken only a few steps inside the massive ballroom when a voice broke through the crush and stopped Noelle. She tensed.
“There you are, dearest.” A woman of middle years, in a frothy concoction of deep green topped with an overlay of delicate gold lace, crossed between clusters of guests to come to a halt before Noelle. She took Noelle’s hands and said crossly, “I worried you’d taken ill, Noelle. I thought you’d come early and help me welcome my guests.”
Noelle accepted a tight-lipped kiss on both cheeks. “I apologize, Aunt.” She stepped back to indicate Eva. “My cousin, Evangeline, has just arrived from the country. We were rushed to find her something suitable to wear.”
A pair of hawk eyes snapped to Eva’s face, and in them was a full measure of suspicion. She now understood why Lady Pennington was called a dragon. She was a formidable force. Eva braced herself and struggled to keep her composure beneath the painfully sharp glare.
“Evangeline? You have no cousin named Evangeline.”
“That is what makes this so delightful, Aunt.” Noelle slipped an arm protectively through Eva’s. They leaned lightly on each other. “I just discovered Uncle Edward entered into a secret marriage after Auntie Bess, just before he died. A cousin, Roderick, was born of that union. Cousin Roderick married Miss Eloise Solomon, and Evangeline is their only child. Sadly, Eva’s parents died some months ago when their boat capsized in a swell. It was only then, through a delayed letter, that I happily discovered I had another cousin.”
Eva managed to bite the inside of her cheek and look grim. She wanted to laugh at the sober way Noelle presented the outlandish lie.
“Lady Pennington, may I introduce Evangeline Harrington.”
Lady Pennington’s gaze bore into Eva as if digging deep for some hint of deception. Eva knew that the instant she had an available moment, the lady would dash off a note to Noelle’s mother for confirmation. But it was too late to do so this evening, so for now, Eva was safe.
And as the lie was difficult to disprove, Lady Pennington could do but one thing as a hostess faced with a new and highly connected relation to Noelle. “Welcome to my home, Miss Harrington,” she said with a tight smile. “I hope we will have time later in the evening to get to know one another.”
“I would like that,” Eva said. As much as she would like to rip off her clothes and dance naked through London. She made a note to be everywhere Lady Pennington wasn’t.
Lady Pennington shot Noelle a dark, suspicious frown and walked off to greet arriving guests.
The air seemed to lighten, and it was easier to breathe without the dragon present.
“Do you think she believed us?” Eva asked, shooting her sister a sidelong and skeptical glance.
Noelle pursed her lips. “Not for a moment.”
Their blended laughter turned several heads.
Eva spent much of the next hour being shuttled through introductions to Noelle’s acquaintances. Since she lived most of her time in Kent, her close friends were at the ball. Eva carried herself with what she hoped was dignity and grace, thankful for her mother’s girlhood teachings. Charlotte hadn’t known what kind of life her daughter would grow up to lead, but she wanted Eva to be able to fit into even the grandest situation. So it was easy to play the part of a country cousin, a lady of impeccable birth.
When a young man, reasonably handsome in spite of two crooked front teeth, swept Noelle away for a dance, Eva felt slightly out of sorts. Several pairs of male eyes turned in her direction, but she was still a curious novelty and they were unsure how to approach her.
So she accepted a glass of punch from a passing servant and let her attention drift over the crowd.
The sounds of laughter and the music, the sight of beautiful gowns and men in their evening attire, and the scent of candles and flowers infused Eva’s senses. She tapped her toe beneath the hem of her gown and waited with impatience for one of the young men to summon the courage to ask her to dance.
She very much wanted to dance.
Casually, as she looked over the rim of her glass for an eye to catch, the crush parted for an instant, and an imposing figure came into view. Her heart stopped.
A tall man in black, his back to her, was in conversation with a petite brunette in a pale pink gown. The girl was smiling sweetly at him, as if every word spilling from his mouth was the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard in her young life.
Eva quickly dismissed her, for it was the dark hair and broad shoulders of the girl’s companion that took her breath away. She’d spent time enough in his company, in clothing and out of it, to know him intimately from every angle, every carved and sculpted and muscled plane.
His Grace.
Like a rabbit confronted by a passing hound, she wasn’t sure if she should flee or stay still, hoping she could remain unnoticed in the horde. Luck was not with her, in spite of her mother’s earbobs. He turned, smiling, and froze.
From across the room, he stared at her, and all the laughter in the green depths of his eyes died. She felt ill and flushed and guilty. She had crossed an invisible line between their worlds, and by the dangerous downturn of his mouth, she knew he was furious.
All sense of time and place faded as she quickly turned and headed for a set of open doors to the terrace. She shoved her glass into a maid’s hand without pausing in her flight. Eva had gotten halfway around a potted tree, a few steps from freedom, when a hand clamped around her arm. She turned to face Nicholas.
“What are you doing here, Eva?” he hissed, using his body to block the curious glances of guests lingering nearby. Holding on to her arm, he pulled her with him through the doorway. Casually nodding to a couple leaning on the rail, he propelled her along the terrace and into a shadowy corner. “Are you mad?”
She
was
mad. She was in a dark corner of the terrace, at a ball she had no business attending, with a man who knew her body almost as intimately as she did. Just days earlier he’d buried his face between her legs and given her a mindnumbing orgasm.
was
mad. She was in a dark corner of the terrace, at a ball she had no business attending, with a man who knew her body almost as intimately as she did. Just days earlier he’d buried his face between her legs and given her a mindnumbing orgasm.
Slowly, she nodded, her face heating. “Clearly.”
Nicholas expelled a harsh breath, then pointed a finger in the direction of the ballroom. “Do you realize just inside those doors are my future wife, my mother, nearly everyone of my acquaintance?”
So, the brunette
was
the perfect and soon-to-be duchess, Lucy Banes-Dodd. The woman who would someday soon share his bed, host his parties, and present His Grace with a passel of well-bred and exceedingly beautiful children. She would be all the things Eva could never be to him: an openly cherished wife and lover.
was
the perfect and soon-to-be duchess, Lucy Banes-Dodd. The woman who would someday soon share his bed, host his parties, and present His Grace with a passel of well-bred and exceedingly beautiful children. She would be all the things Eva could never be to him: an openly cherished wife and lover.
A press of the demon jealousy welled. He had his every desire, and she had nothing. She had lived most of her life behind the doors of her home, unable to enjoy the frivolous fun most young ladies of her age thrived upon. She had never truly resented her choices, until now. He’d not take this night from her.
“I have every right to be here,” she whispered and tried to back away. A vine-covered trellis blocked her escape. “I was invited.”
“Invited? Don’t be absurd.” He gripped her arms and leaned down. His warm breath brushed her nose. “Lady Pennington does not invite courtesans to her balls.”
Anger flashed, and with it, hurt. Of course, to him, she was nothing but a whore, unfit to mingle with his grand friends and family. She was worthy only of his bed, and nothing more. And it would always be that way.
She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Pride lifted her chin. “I am not your courtesan.”
T
he deep hurt in her eyes took him aback. He hadn’t meant to be so cutting and cruel, but discovering her in the ballroom, on the night he planned to ask for Lucy’s hand, had come as quite a shock. And her delicate beauty, framed in reflections of silver light off the threads in her gown, had stunned him and nearly taken him to his knees.
he deep hurt in her eyes took him aback. He hadn’t meant to be so cutting and cruel, but discovering her in the ballroom, on the night he planned to ask for Lucy’s hand, had come as quite a shock. And her delicate beauty, framed in reflections of silver light off the threads in her gown, had stunned him and nearly taken him to his knees.
She was breathtaking. The moment he saw her, Lucy became one with the tapestries. All he could think about was dragging Eva off to some private place and peeling her out of her gown.
“Eva, I . . .” Words failed. He’d just all but called her a whore. How could he explain to her that she’d become more than a courtesan to him? That she’d stolen his nights and filled his days with unwelcome thoughts of her, and every day that passed without seeing her face had become torture?
Eva trembled, and her lips parted. He let out a low growl. Before his mind could overtake his body with a measure of sense, he pulled her against him and crushed his mouth over hers.
She let out a low whimper and went slack against him, opening her mouth to meet his thrust. He plundered her mouth and tasted the sweet infusion of punch.
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