Borrowed Vows (16 page)

At last she saw Dane. He was dancing after all, and his partner was a pretty brunette woman in peach gauze and plumes, who smiled flirtatiously at him from beneath fluttering lashes. Every glance told of availability should Sir Dane Marchwood wish to take advantage.

In spite of her anxiety after the meeting with Thomas, Kathryn was stung with jealousy, and had to look away for a moment. She was angry with herself for reacting like a stupid teenager. A man like Dane was bound to get “come hither” looks by the score! Quelling the feeling, she looked at him again, and without warning he met her eyes. Suddenly it was as if they were alone. All sound seemed to die away as his glance caressed her across the crowded room. He smiled, and her jealousy faded into oblivion.

“I love you,” she whispered, knowing he’d read her lips.

She willed him to whisper the same words back, but his attention was drawn back to the dance.

It seemed an age before the minuet ended and he escorted his partner to her friends by the entrance of the supper room. The flirtatious woman tried to detain him, but he resisted and returned to his wife, leaving the lady to gaze wistfully after him.

Kathryn’s heart quickened as he raised her gloved palm to his lips. “So, sir, I turn my back for a moment and in those minutes I find you being reeled in on a hook,” she said teasingly.

“I’m too wily a fish for that,” he replied, gazing into her eyes and smiling. “Where have you been?”

“I... I went out in the fresh air for a while.”

“You felt unwell?”

“I was just a little hot, that’s all.”

His glance moved beyond her and darkened a little. Without him saying a word she knew he’d seen Thomas. She spoke quickly. “Perhaps you’ll honor me with the next dance?”

He met her eyes again. “Did you know Denham was here tonight?”

She managed a light laugh. “No, I didn’t, but I must say I’m not surprised. The entire county’s here.”

“I’m not concerned about the entire county, just him.”

“Dane, I swear your fears are unfounded. I’m not in love with Thomas Denham; no other man has meant anything to me since I met you.” Oh, how true
that
was.

The master-of-ceremonies announced a waltz, and she took Dane’s arm. “Please don’t talk of disagreeable things, my lord. Let’s waltz instead,” she pleaded.

To her relief, the smile returned to his lips. “The wicked waltz?”

“The wickeder, the better,” she murmured, suddenly remembering the newspaper report she’d read at the library. What had it said? Something about Sir Dane and Lady Marchwood dancing the waltz with particular distinction?

“You’re incorrigible, madam,” he said softly, bending his head to kiss her on the cheek.

She pretended to tap his sleeve reprovingly. “La, sir, is it done for a man to kiss his wife in public?”

“Hardly, but then you are no ordinary wife, my lady.”

“I trust not, sir.”

He searched her face. “Would that I understood you of late, but I fear I don’t. Every time I think I have your measure, you confound me.”

“A lady should retain a certain mystery, sir.”

“She should indeed.” He put his fingers to her cheek.

“I adore you, Sir Dane Marchwood,” she whispered, again yearning for him to say the same to her, but again he didn’t. Instead, he took her hand and led her onto the floor where the dancers were gathering for the waltz.

She lowered her glance. Twice in the space of only minutes she’d confessed her love for him, and twice he’d failed to reciprocate. George Eden had tried to reassure her, and Dane certainly appeared loving, but he didn’t tell her, and she needed to hear him say it.

Was Elizabeth the reason for his reticence? She was suddenly so conscious of the chain around his neck that it was almost as if she could see it beneath his rich clothing. She wished she knew what bitter legacy his first wife had left him, but Elizabeth remained enigmatic behind a cloak of impenetrable mist.

The waltz began, and he whirled her around the floor. His hand was warm against her waist, and his fingers curled over hers in a way that made her aware of everything about him. Their bodies didn’t touch as they danced, but she felt as if they did. He captured her gaze, and again it was as if they were alone in the room. She wanted him to kiss her passionately on the lips in front of everyone, and, as if he knew her thoughts, he suddenly pulled her closer. She raised her lips instinctively to meet his.

They continued to dance with their lips joined. Their bodies touched now, and a secret shiver of delight passed through her. She closed her eyes as desire began to flare in her veins. The music swirled seductively around them, and she didn’t care that everyone was looking on with shocked disapproval.

At last he drew back slightly. “We’re causing a stir, Lady Marchwood.”

“Not as great as the one we’d cause if we did what I want to do right now,” she replied.

He laughed and whirled her more and more wildly around the floor. She felt lighter than air. Particular distinction? What a masterpiece of journalistic understatement!

The other dancers glanced uncertainly at one another and then continued to watch as Sir Dane and Lady Marchwood gave themselves to the new dance that many still regarded as too outrageous for polite society. Outwardly, everyone pretended to disapprove, but privately the ladies envied Kathryn the intimacy she shared with one of England’s most desirable and notorious men. The gentlemen eyed Kathryn’s curvaceous figure approvingly, and wished she was to grace their beds that night instead of her husband’s.

Kathryn was lost in the sheer happiness of being with Dane, but then she saw Thomas watching from the edge of the floor. His tormented gaze followed as she danced, and for a moment she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. But at last she did, and looked up at Dane instead.

“Let’s go home now,” she urged.

“Now? But we’ve hardly danced at all, and you wished to see the fireworks display.”

“I don’t want to dance, sir, and I have fireworks of my own in mind,” she said softly.

“Do you indeed? I confess you’ve persuaded me,” he murmured, offering her his arm.

They made their way from the floor, and she averted her head from Thomas. Five minutes later their carriage drove smartly out of Cheltenham.

Kathryn’s head rested against Dane’s shoulder as she gazed back at the disappearing lights of the fashionable spa town. Would she be allowed to spend the rest of the night with him? Would they make love until dawn again? She prayed so, for this was her last chance before his trust was finally shattered tomorrow at the sailing of the Lady Marchwood.

As had happened earlier on the bridge with Thomas, she wanted to warn him what was to come. Once again the words refused to come to her lips. Tears filled her eyes and she moved her head in order to look up at him in the darkness. “Love me tonight, Dane,” she whispered.

He smiled. “You may count upon it, madam,” he murmured, turning to kiss her.

Her mouth trembled needfully against his, and then she sighed as he pushed her gently down to lie on the seat. He pressed his lips to the pale perfection of her throat, and her yearning hands moved eagerly over him.

“When did we last make love in a carriage, my lady?” he whispered, sliding his hand sensuously beneath her gown.

“If you’ve made love in a carriage, sir, it most certainly wasn’t with me.”

“No? Then we must correct the omission,” he said softly, moving his hand further up her leg to caress her thigh.

“Are you going to take me as if I were a common strumpet, my lord?”

“No, madam, I’m going to take you like the warm-blooded, desirable, fascinating woman you are,” he breathed as he drew her gown up-to her waist and began to undo his breeches.

His arousal sprang urgently from its confines of silk, and seemed to find its own way between her eager thighs. The heat of him was wonderful as he slid inside with leisurely ease. Her breath caught with intense pleasure as he pushed in as far as he could, gripping her buttocks with his hands to tilt her in order to penetrate further. She felt him quiver with desire inside her, and then her body arched beneath him as he began to move slowly in and out. Acute gratification invaded her entire being. Never let this finish. Never.

Chapter Seventeen

It was the morning of Lammas Eve, the day on which Dane would discover the truth about Rosalind and Thomas Denham, but when Kathryn awoke her only thought was fear that she might have been transported back to her own time again instead of remaining in the past with the man she loved. She didn’t dare open her eyes, but lay there with them tightly closed. Please let her still be in 1815.

She could hear birdsong outside, but there were birds in the past and present. What she couldn’t hear was anything modern, like traffic noise. Let her be able to slide her hand across the bed to touch him. She moved her fingers slowly and tentatively over the sheet. He was there! She smiled and opened her eyes gladly to see the morning sunlight slanting through a crack in his apartment curtains at Marchwood.

He had yet to stir. His hair was tousled, and his lashes dark against his cheeks. A sheet covered him to the waist, and a thin band of morning sun fell across his chest, shining on the soft curling hairs she’d pressed her lips to during the night. She leaned up on an elbow and pushed her tangled hair back from her face in order to gaze at him.

Surely this was what it was like in paradise? Just to wake next to him made her feel complete. She could hardly credit how intense her feelings were. It went far beyond simple physical attraction. It was as if she breathed only because he breathed too. She was in tune with everything about him, and the sensation was matchless. This was true love, and if it was only to be granted for these few hours, she was grateful to have experienced it at all. When the time came for her to go back to her own time forever, she’d never forget what she’d known with Sir Dane Marchwood. She’d always worship him. Always. Bending her head, she put her lips tenderly to his.

“Good morning, sweet sir,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes and smiled. “Good morning, my lady,” he murmured, reaching out to pull her on top of him.

She luxuriated in the delicious feel of his body, and moved sensuously against his warmth.

“Make love to me again,” she breathed, sliding her hand down to his loins, and capturing his slumbering maleness. She cupped it tenderly in her palm, and savored its response. It thickened and lengthened, making ready to take her again.

He rolled her gently on to her back and leaned over her. “Your request is my command, sweet lady,” he breathed, mounting her as her thighs parted to welcome him inside. He lowered his hips until his erection nestled up to her, the tip touching her most secret places.

He pushed slowly and inexorably inside, until he filled her. There was no lessening of excitement, no dulling of satisfaction, and renewed passion surged irresistibly through them both. His strokes were slow and leisurely, as were the rich undulations of delight that spread irresistibly through her. She did not doubt now that she was in paradise, or that this was the ultimate ecstasy. If her heart should cease beating at this moment, she’d die knowing the reality of total fulfillment. Flawless, exquisite, unqualified fulfillment...

They lay quietly side by side afterward, and several minutes passed before he spoke. “What fools we were to waste so much time. It should have been like this before, and I should never have doubted you, but I always feared this was only a marriage of convenience to you, entered because your father arranged it.”

“Isn’t that how it was for you? You’d never have married again if your father hadn’t wanted you to.”

“I married again because
I
wanted to.”

“But, I thought...”

He smiled a little. “I let you think I was merely being dutiful, but the truth was rather different.”

“What was the truth?”

He smiled wryly. “The truth? I thought you loved Thomas Denham. If your father hadn’t decided I was the better match, I was sure you’d have rather been Mrs. Denham than Lady Marchwood.”

“And I was sure you were still in love with Elizabeth, and—” She broke off as she suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing the chain and pendant.

Her reaction wasn’t lost on him, and he got up to go to the window and fling the curtain back so the sunlight streamed dazzlingly into the room. Then he looked back at her. “I ceased to love Elizabeth the moment I discovered her infidelity,” he said quietly.

Kathryn sat up slowly. “Her infidelity?” she repeated incredulously.

He turned to gaze out at the park. “You’re the only person I’ve ever told this, the only person apart from me to know anything of it. Elizabeth wasn’t the paragon everyone thinks, and I’ve only shielded her reputation because she’s the mother of my son. There’s no doubt Philip is mine, and so for his sake I’ve allowed her memory to remain untarnished.”

So this was Elizabeth’s bitter legacy. Kathryn found it all difficult to take in.

He glanced back at her. “Philip must never know the truth about his mother.”

“You know he’ll never hear it from me. But I still don’t quite understand. If you fell so completely out of love with her, why have you continued to wear her likeness?”

“As a reminder never to love so foolhardily again. I gave my heart to her, and she broke it. I had no intention of permitting that to happen again, especially when I met you and knew how dangerously similar the circumstances would be if I married you.”

“Dangerously similar? I don’t understand.” She got up and went to slip her arms around him from behind. “Please tell me everything, Dane, for I have a right to know.”

“Yes, you do, but I find it hard to speak of things I’ve kept hidden for so long.” His hands rested tenderly over hers. “To be painfully honest, until now I would never have conceded you had the right to know anything about my past.”

“Why not until now?”

“Because until today I would not have confessed my love to you.”

Her heart missed a beat. “Please say that again,” she whispered.