Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) (9 page)

“Don’t do that,” she replied, the words little more than a whisper.

He slowly drew the injured fingertip into his mouth and suckled it, his tongue velvety and hot. For a fraction of a moment she almost pulled away, but found she could not as his smoldering green eyes held her pinned. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she heard herself draw in a ragged breath.

“Vaughn, someone will see,” she said, pulling her finger away. She stood and quickly stepped around him, but it wasn’t far enough. He surrounded her, invaded all her senses to the point she couldn’t think straight.

“They’re out in the garden and the servants will not bother us.”

She turned back to face him. “Rufus—”

“Is no doubt taking his daily nap.”

“This is insanity.”

A dark brow lifted. “Is it?”

As he approached her, she stepped back, away from the window and from prying eyes. “Yes, it is insanity. Every day I feel like I’m coming undone and now with Natasha—”

“Why, what do you feel about Natasha?”

She turned from him, unwilling to look at him. She did not want him to be able to read all her feelings from her face and eyes as he would surely do—her emotions were too volatile.

She straightened a picture on the wall and took a deep breath before blurting, “I hate it. I hate the way she looks at you. I hate the way Caroline desires to have you as a son-in-law.”

“Ah…” There was a wealth of knowledge in his voice. Then he added, his voice low, “It is no different than what I feel when I think of you marrying my father.”

She turned abruptly, surprised into it. He was watching her intently. “You cannot be serious?”

The corner of his mouth lifted the slightest bit. The expression seemed to be a sour one. “The only difference is that you’re already committed to become his wife.”

His words stirred her anger back to life. This time the anger was aimed at her own wretched circumstances. Her impending marriage to Rufus was a prison sentence. She was trapped, where Vaughn was free. His whole life lay before him, uncharted. Hers was cast in stone. Tears stung her eyes.

He touched her cheek, gently, sending another tiny burst of pleasure through her.

“I wanted to know how you felt when you saw me with someone else. I wanted to know I wasn’t the only one who desired.” His hand cupped her face. “And I can see I am not alone.” His thumb slid across her lips. “Am I, my sweet Elisa?” he murmured, his voice caressing her.

Her heart was fluttering painfully. If she were to acknowledge she felt as he did, where would he take it next? The excitement, the absolute danger that could come of speaking the truth! The possibilities made her tremble anew, helped by the sensual brush of his fingers across her lips, light and maddeningly erotic.

Natasha’s laughter in the hallway was a douse of cold water. Elisa jumped. Vaughn’s hand fell away just as the girl entered the room with her mother close on her heels.

“Your flowers are divine,” Caroline said, her smile in place as she walked in the room, her cheeks flushed with laughter.

Vaughn had moved away from her, with the silence and sleekness of a cat.

Elisa struggled to keep her voice normal as she replied, “Thank you. I work very hard at tending them. Sometimes the climate here makes it difficult.”

“Indeed, Lord Munroe tells me I need to find more interest in gardening, yet I find it sparks nothing within me. Now my watercolors, those are entirely—”

Elisa’s nerves tensed as Caroline stopped in mid-sentence and studied her intently. “My dear, you look so pale. Do you not feel well?”

“I…have a headache. The heat…”

“I am so sorry, my dear. Perhaps you should lie down?”

Elisa wanted nothing more than to escape Natasha and Caroline. She nodded. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Here, I will escort you,” Vaughn said, coming up beside her and extending his elbow. He glanced over his shoulder at the other women. “You’ll be staying for dinner?” he asked, voicing the polite question.

“Yes!” the ecstatic reply came, in unison from mother and daughter.

* * * * *

Elisa remained silent as Vaughn walked her to her room. Her hand was stiff and unmoving on his arm. She was jealous. He had seen it on her face, had read it in her eyes.

He deliberately let the silence stretch.

“Why did you invite them to stay?” she asked at last, without looking at him.

“Actually Rufus invited them.”

“Rufus?”

Vaughn understood her incredulity. Rufus did not invite anyone over. Usually the neighbors arrived and he “rested” while Elisa entertained.

“Is it not the polite thing to do when a neighbor comes calling?”

“They have been here all afternoon.”

He shrugged. “I thought you would enjoy their company.”

This was met by more silence.

Vaughn suppressed a smile. The air of injured pride in her upturned nose and down-turned mouth must surely mean he was beginning to break down the impervious barrier she had erected against his advances.

When they arrived at her room they both reached for the handle at the same time, their hands brushing against each other. He heard her quick intake of breath but she didn’t remove her hand, or pull away.

He wove his fingers through hers. They were such small hands, so dainty and feminine. Everything about her was fragile.

“Thank you for walking me to my room,” she said stiffly, opening the door.

He let his hand fall away. “My pleasure.”

She stared straight ahead. But there was a fine gold ringlet brushing the nape of her neck he longed to brush aside. “Rest. Recover,” he told her. Then he gave into temptation and slid his hand beneath the curl. His fingertips grazed her skin and she quivered. His body tightened up at that minute sign of responsiveness. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to her ear. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” he breathed and kissed the tender flesh just below her ear. He was rewarded when he felt a deep, bone-jarring tremble through her. But she kept her head averted. She remained silent and her silence was a challenge.

He slid his hand around her tiny waist and pressed gently. “Ah, Elisa, you deny me still,” he said with mock despair, as he felt the corset beneath.

“Let me go,” she breathed.

“Certainly,” he agreed, dropping his hand.

“Thank you.” She stepped into the room and turned to grasp the door handle. Her gaze at last met his. Those big blue eyes seemed almost luminous. Vaughn felt his heart give a little skip.

Slowly she closed the door and still he didn’t move.

“Sweet dreams, my lady,” he whispered. The door finally closed.

He smiled at the door, knowing she still stood there on the other side. Was her hand on the wood as his was now? Did her heart pound like his with the anticipation of what was to come?

Hearing footsteps behind him, he dropped his hand and turned to find Marianne watching him. The maid’s mouth was in a grim line as she walked toward him. He read a number of warnings in that stare.

He knew the Frenchwoman cared deeply for Elisa and it was patent she didn’t like him.

“Good afternoon, Marianne,” he said, reinforcing the greeting with a smile.

The maid did not smile back.

* * * * *

Elisa woke late. Marianne stood over her, a cup of tea in her hand.

“My lady, dinner has already begun. I thought you were awake when last I came in or I would have never left.”

“Oh, goodness,” Elisa said, sitting up quickly.

“His lordship is asking for your presence. Quickly, get up and I will help you dress.”

Rufus would be furious.

Her heart thumping erratically, Elisa climbed from the bed. She glanced at the Ormulu clock on the mantle and groaned under her breath. Though she had slept for three hours, it felt like only minutes. And now she was late and Rufus would not let her forget it.

Elisa took the teacup and drained the lukewarm tea with a grimace while Marianne scurried about, pulling out underclothes, a fresh corset, choosing a gown. Then she put the cup and saucer down and stripped off the bed gown as Marianne held out the clean chemise.

Within quarter of an hour she was dressed. There had been no time for any decisions and she realized the gown Marianne had picked was more daring than Elisa was used to wearing. It was a deep vibrant blue water-washed satin creation she’d had made just before Roger’s death—when she’d hoped an alluring gown would help their relationship ease a little, when all her hopes for a happy marriage had not been completely dead. The bodice and waist were tight and Marianne had laced her accordingly, lifting her breasts high. As a consequence, the low neckline showed much more of her breasts than usual. The gown barely skimmed the edges of her shoulders, and the big bell sleeves seemed to threaten to pull the gown from them altogether, although her corset and the tight bodice in fact assured the gown would not slip to reveal more than it should.

The layers of petticoats beneath let the wonderful material fall in ruffles and ripples that showed off the moiré effect and when she walked the very slight train pulled the skirts back, fanning them and displaying the fabric to best effect.

While Elisa stared at herself in the mirror, wondering how she dared appear in such a gown and knowing she had no time to change, Marianne piled her curls on top of her head and pinned them with artistic flare, leaving her neck and shoulders completely bare. She slid diamond drop pendant earrings onto her ears and stood back, her head tilted, waiting for Elisa’s approval.

“Thank you for your help,” Elisa murmured.

“They’ll be just starting the soup, ma’am. You had better be on your way.”

“Yes,” Elisa agreed distantly. Her heart was starting to thump. What would Vaughn think of this daring ensemble?

Together, they walked down to the marbled entrance hall, as Marianne would be going to the back of the house for her own meal.

At the bottom of the stairs, as Elisa turned to the dining room, Marianne touched her wrist. “My lady…”

“What is it?”

Marianne licked her lips nervously. “My lady, I would warn you of master Vaughn. I see what is happening. I see what is in his eyes, in his mind. And I am afraid.”

“Afraid?” Elisa was a little surprised. She could understand someone fearing Rufus, but Vaughn? “He would not hurt me,” she responded.

“Perhaps not physically, my lady. But there are other ways of hurting a person. Forgive me, my lady, but I thought I should warn you.”

The maid’s eyes were pleading and though Elisa felt warmed by Marianne’s concern, she also resented it. Granted, she did not use her head when in Vaughn’s presence, but she was a woman of nearly thirty years and she could do what she wanted, with whom she wanted. Elisa patted her maid’s hand. “Thank you for the warning, but I do realize my own folly. He is better suited to someone younger. Someone who has not been jaded by all she has seen and heard. Someone like Natasha. I believe I was merely lonely for companionship and he is my friend.”

Marianne looked relieved. She gave a slight nod and moved off down the corridor that eventually led to the kitchen.

Elisa walked the few steps to the dining room doors and stopped. Inside she could hear both feminine and masculine laughter. She straightened her spine. Tonight would be difficult, but she would get through it. After all, there were only five of them. A small gathering and at least Caroline was here to keep her occupied. She could not—she would not—start looking at Caroline as the enemy.

As for Vaughn…

Her heart thumped again and she could feel the weakening waves of longing already beginning to wash through her. Excitement burrowed deep into her belly. Would he like her gown? Would his eyes narrow when he saw her for the first time and his attention be pulled away from the woman-child next to him?

Her courage buoyed by a wicked anticipation, Elisa turned the handle and stepped inside, her head high.

Chapter Six

As soon as she stepped into the dining room, she looked for Rufus. Anger darkened his face immediately and she found herself coming to an unsure halt just inside the door. Fear rippled through her.

Then she saw Vaughn and realized her unplanned halt afforded him a long moment in which to study her fully. And he was, indeed, studying her from top to toe. She found her shoulders were straightening and her heart picking up speed.

Then she realized everyone was watching her, including Natasha, who sat with a forkful of food halfway between plate and mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment.

Was her appearance so dramatically different it deserved such silent consideration
.
She brushed at the satin with a hand suddenly damp, smoothing the skirt down unnecessarily and swallowed on a throat gone dry. “Forgive my lateness, please,” she murmured. “I fell asleep.”

Vaughn got to his feet and came toward her, a slow, appreciative smile on his face that only she could see. He picked up her hand and bowed low over it. “My lady, allow me,” he said, offering his arm to take her to her place at the table.