Educating Elizabeth (32 page)

"Mrs. Waterstone, are you feeling all right?"

Lord Vincent's concern interrupted her miserable thoughts and she shivered. He drew her more closely into his arms and led her toward the edge of the dance floor. With murmured apologies he pushed his way through the young bucks who loitered around the doorway, ogling the women, and led her back into the main entrance hall.

"Do you wish to leave, Mrs. Waterstone? I would be happy to escort you."

Lord Vincent disentangled her fan from her wrist, flicked it open and plied her with its cooling draught.

Elizabeth drew in her breath and smiled at him. "Thank you, my lord but I don't wish to leave. I just felt a little faint in the press of people. I'm quite recovered now." With a determined nod, she retrieved her fan and turned toward the staircase.

Lord Vincent caught up with her and regained her hand. "Mrs. Waterstone, may I be frank with you? Gervase indicated to me that I might have my choice of you or Angelique as a companion for the evening." He hesitated. "And, I suspect, for the night to follow. Is Gervase in the habit of hiring out your services?"

For a horrifying second, Elizabeth thought of her stepfather callously forcing her into the arms of the duke. Was Gervase deliberately trying to humiliate her by proposing the same thing?

"No, my lord, the duke has never attempted to dispose of me before. As I said, I believe he has decided our relationship is at an end."

Lord Vincent squeezed her hand. "If you will pardon my interference, Gervase is being a fool. It is obvious that you would suit him admirably." He placed her hand on his sleeve and they walked up the staircase. "How would you feel about lavishing your attention on me for the rest of the evening and seeing how much Gervase can stand before he realizes what a fool he is?"

Elizabeth swallowed down her pain and smiled into Lord Vincent's mischievous eyes as he flung open the door into the box. "Oh, I think I can manage that, my lord." She gave him her hand and they entered the box together to confront the duke.

The duke lay sprawled in his seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hand curled around a half-empty bottle of brandy. He raised his glass in a mocking salute as Lord Vincent pulled out a chair for Elizabeth and offered her some wine.

"Did you enjoy your dance, Vincent?" he drawled. "Mrs. Waterstone can be excellent company when she wants to be."

Elizabeth tried not to wince at the abrasive note in Gervase's voice and accepted the glass of wine with a smile of thanks. Lord Vincent drew his chair as close to hers as possible.

"You are right, my dear cousin. Mrs. Waterstone is not only a beautiful, desirable woman but an intelligent one as well." He kissed Elizabeth's fingers with lazy grace and retained them in his. "I cannot thank you enough for the introduction."

Elizabeth swirled her fan to cover her mouth as the duke continued to watch her with hard, unamused eyes. He refilled his brandy glass, his gaze fixed on Elizabeth's lap, where Lord Vincent caressed the palm of her hand with the tip of his thumb.

"Your Grace, where is Angelique?" Elizabeth asked.

The duke raised one elegant, insolent shoulder. "I haven't seen her for a while. She took offense at something I said and disappeared in a swirl of petticoats." He winked at Lord Vincent. "Even after all the women I've bedded, I still don't understand what goes on in their pretty little heads."

Elizabeth threw him a sharp glance. "That is quite obvious, Your Grace, otherwise you would not be sitting here by yourself."

Gervase sat up and his air of indolence disappeared. He leaned toward Elizabeth. She tried not to inhale the scent of brandy, which clung to his skin like a rich, potent perfume. "Are you implying that I'm incapable of sustaining a relationship with a woman?"

Elizabeth gave a brittle laugh and turned her head to gaze up into Lord Vincent's amused eyes. "I would not dare to suggest such a thing, Your Grace. Men are as much a mystery to me as you claim women are to you."

Lord Vincent put his arm around Elizabeth. "I think you underestimate yourself, my dear Mrs. Waterstone. I would wager that you can guess
exactly
what I'm thinking about now."

Elizabeth modestly lowered her head and Lord Vincent brushed her averted cheek with his mouth. She almost gasped as the duke's fingers tightened painfully around her wrist before he released her and sat back.

The main lights in the auditorium had been dimmed and the music continued to play, although not many people appeared to be dancing. A solitary footman, his white wig askew, his livery stained with wine, ascended the steps to the stage and began to set light to the candles that adorned the edge.

Angelique reentered the box with a flurry of explanations and apologies, bringing with her a masked blonde woman. Elizabeth wasn't sure if it was the unknown woman's resemblance to Angelique that made her seem familiar or her voice as she whispered in Angelique's ear.

While Elizabeth pondered the mystery, Angelique began the introductions.

"Your Grace, this is Emilia, Lady Ma..."

The duke cut through her introduction with a wave of his hand. "I know who she is, Angelique. Her first name is quite sufficient for a masked ball--you know that. We must strive to cultivate an air of mystery." He rose with a charming smile. "Would you care to sit down, Emilia?"

"Oh Gervase," breathed Emilia, "I knew you would forgive me. I knew you would want me back."

Elizabeth frowned as she suddenly remembered where she had seen Emilia before--on the first occasion that the duke had taken her and Eloise to the theater, he had very publicly cast off Emilia when they had met her after the performance.

Giggling, Emilia accepted the duke's invitation to sit on his lap and Elizabeth looked away. She hadn't believed her wretched evening could get any worse. An unwilling smile trembled on her lips. How like the duke to invite his previous mistress along to watch the ignominious dismissal of her successor. Was Emilia unable to resist the duke's allure or had Angelique been used as a go-between to engineer this particular scenario?

Elizabeth stared at Angelique, who avoided her gaze as she pretended to chat with Lord Vincent. Emilia started to rain kisses down onto the duke's face and he made no effort to stop her.

With a determined attempt to appear unconcerned, Elizabeth allowed Lord Vincent to take her hand and remove her glove. As he pressed kisses up the tender flesh of her inner arm, she half-closed her eyes and found that his touch was not unpleasant.

Unfortunately for her shattered nerves, she could still make out the duke and Emilia, even through the shadows. Capturing Elizabeth's reluctant gaze, the duke slid his fingers into Emilia's guinea gold hair, tilted her head back, and kissed her full on the mouth. Emilia squeaked as he deepened the kiss.

Gervase held Elizabeth's gaze over Emilia's shoulder the whole same time.

Agony laced with anger shot through Elizabeth. She refused to play his games. She wouldn't stay and watch her world crumble into ashes. Lord Vincent touched her hand, his face full of concern.

"Do you not wish to watch the performance, Mrs. Waterstone? I believe it is a farce."

Elizabeth tore her eyes away from the duke's cynical gaze and looked wildly around for her cloak. "No, I thank you, Lord Vincent. Perhaps you could show me where I might hire a hackney cab?"

She curtsied to the other occupants of the box. "It has been an interesting evening, Your Grace, but I feel as if I've already witnessed the most inspired performance of the night in this very box."

Lord Vincent tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her toward the back of the box. "I will escort you home, Mrs. Waterstone. It will truly be my pleasure." He left her outside the door in the shadowy corridor. "If you will just wait here, I will go and engage a cab."

Elizabeth leaned her head against the grimy wallpaper and closed her eyes. The acrid-smelling candle in the wall sconce above her head hissed, guttered, and died.

She should not have taunted the duke. He was an expert at divesting himself of annoying females. She had only proved she was no match for him and had hurt herself in the process. By antagonizing him she had also lost all hope of making him listen to her suspicions about Sir John. How could she have been so foolish?

She stiffened as a familiar hand wrapped around her neck. "Are you sure that you don't want to stay, Elizabeth?" the duke murmured. The cloying smell of Emilia's perfume almost choked her and she tried to turn her head to the side. She wasn't quick enough to avoid his mouth. He kissed her with a blatant, possessive desire that gave no quarter that demanded her response that shattered her soul.

Her knees gave way under his unforgivably explicit assault and she struggled to free her hand from the intimate press of his body. The crack of her open palm against his cheek sounded like a pistol shot in the darkness. He stepped back and leisurely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A deep red mark appeared on his cheekbone.

"Go away, Your Grace." Elizabeth whispered. "You have achieved your aim. I don't wish to stay."

He smiled and she hated him so much she wanted to scream it in his face. "Much better to end it this way, with anger rather than with floods of tears, don't you think?"

"I'm so glad you approve of my anger."

He frowned. "What exactly do you mean?"

"You've taught me everything I know about the difference between passion and love and I appreciate that immensely." She gathered her courage. "That's also why I finally understand that you're too much of a coward to ever acknowledge your true feelings."

His expression darkened. "What in damnation are you talking about?"

"I think you know. Why else would you go to so much trouble to be rid of me?" She held his gaze. "I thought I was in love with you. Thank you for dislodging that stupid and idiotic notion from my head so successfully tonight, even if it was for your own protection."

"Elizabeth, I..."

She walked away from him, head held high, toward the far more peaceful company of Lord Vincent.

*** *** ***

She said little as the drafty rented carriage ambled its way through the light rain back to the duke's house. When they reached the square, Lord Vincent paid off the driver and assisted Elizabeth from the carriage. He walked her to the bottom of the imposing staircase of Delamere House and then stopped to possess himself of her hands.

"I feel guilty for encouraging you to defy Gervase. I didn't think he would react like that. I fear I've just made things worse."

"It is all right, my lord. Sometimes it is better for things to end quickly rather than limp on for months." She drew in a steadying breath. "At least I know where I stand and can plan ahead."

Lord Vincent frowned as he felt in his coat pocket and handed her a card. "This has my address in Switzerland on it, as well as my London bankers. I will be at The Pelican Inn on Birdcage Walk for another three days. Please contact me there if you have need of my support."

Elizabeth accepted the card and was surprised when he grasped her hands again.

"I must say this, Mrs. Waterstone. If Gervase hadn't met you first, I would definitely be pursuing my interest in you." She started to speak and he stopped her with a gentle kiss. "Not as a courtesan,
ma cherie
, but as a future wife. I would love to have the opportunity to get to know you better and insist that you consider me a friend, at the very least."

He released her and she headed up the stairs in a daze of conflicting emotions. The door was unlocked and the hall was empty just as it had been on the fateful night when the duke had first brought her there. She walked slowly up the staircase, knowing in her heart that she was more vulnerable now, having loved and lost the duke, than she could ever possibly have imagined on that long ago night.

She threw the horrible violet satin dress onto the carpet and stamped on it before pulling on one of her own voluminous nightgowns that fastened high at the neck. Despite her distress, she couldn't sleep, and pacing the carpet seemed the only thing that stopped the screams welling from her throat.

*** *** ***

Gervase closed the door to his suite with deliberate slowness and slumped against it. The strain of lying to Elizabeth had drained him to the point of exhaustion and he feared that there was worse to come on the morrow. He only just managed to wipe all trace of expression from his face when he remembered that Angelique was still there. He straightened as Angelique tore off her pink domino and mask and threw them at his feet.

"Are you happy now, Gervase?" Her voice shook but she continued to advance on him. "Are you happy now that you have destroyed Elizabeth?"

Gervase was still too shaken to speak. He poured himself a large brandy before he found the nerve to turn and face Angelique again.

"I hate myself for allowing you to involve me in this." Angelique twisted her hands together as she paced a restless circle.

Gervase shrugged. "It was necessary for you to come home with me in case Elizabeth decided to waylay me in my bedchamber." He grimaced. "If my suspicions are correct, Elizabeth will soon be under the protection of the French and we will never see her again. I suspect she is too valuable an asset to be ignored."

Angelique's expressive face paled beneath her rouge. "They might kill her, have you thought of that?"

Gervase fought hard to conceal the pain Angelique's words provoked in him. He couldn't afford to let anyone know the truth yet, even Angelique. He raised an indolent eyebrow as though she had suggested a ride in the park.

"Are you suggesting that I expose her to the British authorities? As a traitor to her own country I suspect the penalty inflicted on her would be equally severe."

He was rewarded for his calculated air of disinterest when Angelique knocked the brandy glass from his hand. He caught her wrist as the brandy dripped down his chest. "Go home, Angelique. I will come and see you tomorrow."