Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4) (12 page)

You must forgive my absence, but I escorted Alleyne and his family for some distance; those country lanes are rife with footpads and highwaymen. At least, the main fairway is tolerably clear of the blackguards, and with the added safety of more traffic. I have now ridden back with the devil at my heels. He swallowed; she was a beauty in peach lustring, with blonde Valenciennes on the puffed sleeves and with three tiers at the hem. That beautiful dark hair sparkled with a lace work of sequins and tiny white flowers. 

Looking up, she tried not to show her relief. He looked so handsome in an exquisite superfine frockcoat, the high pointed collar; a napoleon styled cravat, and tight tailored trousers.

Taking the glass, she beamed, ‘Good evening sir.’

‘Charmed. And how are the aches and pains?’

‘All cleared thanks to your ministrations and those of my nurse. ’ Raising her head, she looked up into the electric blue eyes glittering like sapphires, framed in those enticing dark lashes. Searching for words, she chose that moment to drink in the beloved features of his face, so she would remember this moment in the years to come. She said, lamely, ‘Tis a trifle warm is it not?’

Hector harrumphed behind him, ‘Glad ter see you Delmare; I feared there would be a scarcity of males for the ladies, seeing as most of us are off to the beat of the drum. What?’

‘Quite so. I can’t wait to end the Corsican’s rampage.’

Mrs Rawlings, looking plump and pretty in lavender satin sailed towards them on the arm of Vicar Thomson. ‘Oh dear Miss Frencham, charmed to see you again, tis such a lovely rout is it not?  I do say I love these private functions, not too formal but much more enjoyable than the family one, is it not? So good of Lady Thurston to throw one.’ Mrs Rawlings furiously fanned her chubby face beaded with perspiration.  ‘Dear lord tis so hot in here, I could fair swoon. Tis the heat of the candles.’

‘Come – come my dear Mrs Rawlings, let me escort you to a seat.’ the vicar, boomed, also flush with the heat, his florid cheeks, a reddish blue, the veins on his nose quite prominent.  His wide girth made his plump little partner look quite svelte as he towered over her.

At that moment, Lord Tenbury appeared in the company of a buxom matron who appeared to limp. ‘Why Miss Frencham, egad you look as if you have stepped from a Renoir. You fairly shimmer with beauty.’

‘Why thank you my lord, I must say, you look immaculate tonight.’

Beaming he gave a slight bow.

‘I wish his dance steps were so immaculate,’ his partner said archly. ‘Why I am fair crippled.’

Abashed, Lord Tenbury’s cheeks coloured a beetroot red, ‘Well Mrs. Scott; you would insist on dancing that reel. I warned you when I marked your card. Tis not one I have mastered as yet.’

Phillipa tried not to giggle; Lord Tenbury was renowned for his clumsiness; he used that excuse for almost all the dances. The only one he seemed to execute with any grace was the cotillion which was now quite out of fashion. It was obvious this lady was not aware of his reputation on the dance floor.

The elderly Lady Tennant floated up, her three large ostrich feathers waving, as she bopped her head. ‘Come to wish you well, m’dear. I must say it will be the wedding of the year,’ she said, with a croak in her kindly voice.

‘Why thank you my lady.’ Phillipa answered, her heart sinking, as her destiny loomed before her.

‘When do your mama and papa arrive?’

‘They come tomorrow afternoon along with my brothers and sister.’

‘La what a grand affair it will be.’ Turning to Hector, she said, ‘Now young man I would ask you to bring me a soft drink. I am seated over there by that tree affair.’  She pointed over to the statue of a large palm tree in gilt, around which was fashioned a seat upholstered in rich red brocade.

‘My pleasure, my lady,’ he replied, his tone flustered, as he looked over to Lady Amaryllis looking like a Goddess in a white silk dress of Grecian style, the long roll of the train draped over her arm.

Phillipa raised her eyebrows; this was the third time he danced with the young woman.

Seeing her look, he blustered, ‘Shortage of males – you see. Must do our duty.’

She smiled; Hector was just so kind, so caring of others. Damien’s voice cut through her thoughts, ‘I missed the waltz, but may I?’

Trying not to look too pleased, she placed her hand in his, only to experience an exquisite feeling in her stomach.

‘Don’t usually like the minuet, such a bore. – too slow, but with you I shall be transported to the heights.’

‘We were just talking about it earlier; I rather like it, but I find the steps so intricate. I far prefer a reel, tis so merry.’  Facing each other, she curtseyed to his bow and turned.  Moving slowly, they took three steps forward and then pointed their toes, tapping three times in rhythm.

He whispered, ‘I could find a better way to waste our time than this.’ He grinned down at her, ‘Can’t wait for the waltz, tis an opportunity to hold you close. How I long to feel your body close to mine.’

‘Really sir, have you not a sweet repertoire? Must your speech always contain the innuendo? Besides you  should not bring my body close to yours in the waltz, tis unseemly.’

Moving to the side, he answered with his eyes, his expression sending tingles down her spine. ’Really Damien, need you be so indecorous.’ Despite her misgivings, she could not but warm to his jollity.

‘Indecorous? Moi? Not so. I am just drowning in those dark chocolate eyes. It takes me back to when I first espied you. Couldn’t take my eyes of you, I recall you were drinking chocolate and that dab of cream you were talking of on the tip of your nose. I longed to rush over and lick it off.’

Her stomach leapt, and she teetered on her feet. ‘Stop it, I nearly tripped. You would make me look clumsy, and that would be a disgrace.’

‘Ah well, I shall desist, time to tap our toes again, really what a silly dance.’

‘We were saying tis popular in Bath, I hear they almost banned the waltz, said it was vulgar and indiscreet. They say tis the work of you young officers bringing it over from France; just so you have the opportunity to swing us ladies off our feet.’

‘Hmm, well they are in Bath mostly for the waters and the gout. Their arthritic joints are not up to the waltz and the reel.’

‘Honestly, you sound like Amelia; she has such a tongue on her. Don’t be insulting towards your elders, one day you may well be in the same state.’

‘Quite, and until that time, I aim to enjoy life. And that includes the waltz.’

‘Eloise told me her parents were delighted, and quite astonished at the speed of the match. It appears Eloise’s mama shrieked when told her daughter would marry a Count; she almost swooned.’

‘Little do they know the truth otherwise it could have been Sabres at dawn with her papa.’ Damien muttered.

‘Yes, I am so happy for them. But disappointed they could not stay for the ball. There is much to arrange, but it will be a quiet affair.’

‘And for us?’

‘Damien – please.  You know it is impossible.’

‘No, I do not m’dear. We must talk of this. I am promised to dance with more young ladies but I will be back  never fear, There is something I must ask you  before this night is out.’

Resting in between dances, Phillipa fanned herself to keep cool in the mounting heat of the ball room.  She looked up, as Venetia with Horatio in tow, came across. ‘Dearest, it is just the most wonderful rout and so impromptu; the dowager excels in entertainment.’

‘I’m so glad you are enjoying it Venetia; you look stunning in that gown. The spider net over the silk is quite lustrous. And Horatio, you look as handsome as ever.’

Bowing he grinned, ‘Thank you. Aphrodite stands pale beside you m’dear.’

Laughing, she lowered her fan, ‘Hector is working hard tonight, so many ladies and you males are scarce.’

Her spirits lowered, as she saw Demetrius approach. ‘Yes and that is why I must claim you, my dear sister-in-law to be.’ Demetrius drawled, holding out a limpid hand.  ‘My third dance I believe.’

Clenching her back teeth, Phillipa gave a tight smile and clicking shut her fan looped it to her dress. Giving Venetia a droll look, she stood up.  At least, it was a reel and the hateful man could hardly pinch or fondle her in that.

Later, sipping an ice cold lemonade, she espied Damien dancing with a pretty young woman, who looked up at him with adoring eyes. Phillipa only had one more dance with him, why, oh why, the strict etiquette?  The ruling that only two dances were allowed with the same partner was quite frustrating, why would anyone think if he had more than two, then he was offering for her? It was quite medieval. Tonight the rule was swayed only due to the scarcity of males. After finishing her drink, she decided to visit the ladies’ room. The coolness of the stone walled passageway gave some relief from the heat of the ball room yet it was deserted and quite gloomy.  Startled, she jumped, as she felt a hand touch her arm, and a whispered, ‘Meet me in the library.’ It was Damien’s voice.

Turning around, she saw the curtain move. Pulling it open, she looked out onto a semi-French window.  Her heart now beat rapidly in her chest, should she go? Maybe she should return  to the ballroom, get immersed in the dances, stay close to Hector, but then he was also obliged to dance with the guests.  Biting her lip, she stepped slowly forward then firmed her lips; yes, she determined to go through with it. She had nothing to lose; she was not going to change her mind about marrying Hector. However, she could not resist seeing him for the last time.

Crossing the threshold, she stepped inside; it was quite dark except for the moonlight filtering through the window.  She felt his arms go around her, as he led her to a window seat in the far corner. ‘Tis safe here, I shall hear anyone entering.’

She saw the sculpted planes and angles of his face glowing like silver in the rays of the moon. His eyes glittered dark and mysterious. This was not her light-hearted rake, but a man deeply concerned.  Taking her hands, he gazed into her eyes; she was mesmerized, unable to look away. ‘My goddess, I have something to say. Tis no time for games here.  I lay my heart at your feet, and I pray you will not trample over it.’

‘Oh please Damien I—’

‘Hear me out my love.’ Raising her hands to his lips, he kissed her fingers tenderly whispering, ‘I love you Phillipa; you are the girl of my dreams, the woman for whom I have searched for so long. I love you, and wish you to be my wife.’

Her heart seemed to swell, ‘I – I cannot – I promised Hector, and I must not hurt him. I find this painful—’

‘If it is painful, then surely there is love in your heart for me?’

‘I am not sure I love you Damien, only that I cannot stop thinking about you.  I miss you when you are not near, I think of you all day and dream of you at night.’

‘Then that is love – surely you cannot deny it?’

Tearing her eyes away from that pleading gaze tearing at her heart, she whispered, ‘Damien, I must declare the truth here. You know I have brothers, all five of them and a dear sister. Hector has already promised to take care of my family.  He has such a big heart you see, already he is going to pay for them to attend Eton and Cambridge, and my dearest Louisa  will have her come out ball next season.’

‘But I—’

‘No – don’t – you could never afford those sums of money. You do see don’t you, I am honour bound to care for them. But it isn’t honour really Damien; I love them so much and I want them to have a future. Without Hector, the boys will end up at some mediocre college and poor commissions, or a parish or teaching post at some boarding school. 

Damien looked through the window, the muscle in his jaw working to a knot. ‘So you would sacrifice your happiness, for your siblings?’

‘I would not call it a sacrifice; I would call it a compromise. At least, I will live in comfort; Hector has promised riding stables as we both love riding and also besides his observatory,  he will build a fine studio for me and employ a master of the  arts, all of which he supports and encourages like the kind-hearted  man he is. Can you not see? I can hardly refuse. For many years, we have talked of our life together, and I can’t – won’t let him down now.’

Damien rose from the seat and bunched his hands behind his back, as he paced to and from in pained silence. Turning abruptly, he knelt before her. ‘Dearest, I know now that you would deny yourself for your family, and I see the great love you have for them. It only makes me love you all the more. I can offer you so much, I have estates, here and abroad, your siblings’ education and Louisa’s come out ball would be pocket money to me. I can give you the finest masters of art, take you on a grand tour of Rome and Florence where you may sit and sketch the work of the masters. Please you do not have to sacrifice yourself or cast away our love.’

‘So who are you really Damien?’

‘For my sins, the Duke of Denfordshire.’

‘So that is how you have the freedom to choose your calling in the regiment.  But now, I hate to think you should have to barter.’ She decided to speak her heart; he had to know of her love, even if they must part.  ‘Love to me is the most important thing, a jewel above all else. If I was free, I would marry you in an instant.’

He caught her to him, ’Then do so, let me take you away tonight.’

‘No it is not that easy.’ Tears brimmed in her eyes, as she said, ‘Don’t you see? I can’t hurt him. How can I throw over a man who has loved me all his life, and promised me so much, planned so much? No Damien.’

‘I wish to God, I had that loyalty. Surely, all you have to do is explain?’

‘How can I live with my conscience? How can I sit in church and listen to a sermon on faith and loyalty? No, I cannot build our life together on his broken heart. It would always be with me, a spectre haunting me at night. And there are our families, mine ruined, Hector’s stained. Please Damien – please do not ask me again. My mind is made up.’

Holding her close, he rained kisses on the top of her head, cupping her chin; he lifted her face to him, kissing her face, her eyes, and her tears. ‘I will not give up my love. Despite your tears, despite your brave and loyal words, I shall not give you up. I will wait an eternity for you.’ She felt his chest heave, ‘You have stolen my heart.’

‘No you must leave Damien, tonight, never to return, do not torment me so. Please – leave.’ 

He gazed at her for moment, his eyes never leaving hers, then bowed and walked away. 

Phillipa bunched her hands to her face, what had she done? She must run after him, it wasn’t too late, now – now – run – beg forgiveness. However, she stood still, her heart breaking; she knew now her love for him was a flame that burnt her, seared her, only his presence could quench the heat.  How could she live with the pain, Hanging her head, she sat down on the window seat gazing out over the lawns to the old oak tree, hearing his words, his laughter, feeling his kisses on her lips. ‘I love you Damien – love you so much. Forgive me.’

Sobbing, she hung her head, how to face the years ahead, his dear face before her and when she was old would she regret this? Yes, she would, for ever more.