Lady Star (15 page)

“Oh I hope not,” she answered
audaciously.

Jules threw back his head and laughed,
“Naughty, plucky girl, just my sort!” He then knocked on the
window. He saw Sir Edward at that moment leading Star out of the
room.

“Damn!” he cursed out loud and then, “Oh,
sorry.”

She laughed and said, “Never mind, I am not
above reiterating.” He had her hand again and she found herself
pulled along once more.

She tripped over something and let out a
small screech. He turned in time to catch her from falling.
“Steady,” he said as he held her up, neatly ensconced in his
arms.

Georgie found herself pressed against him,
his arms around her as he looked down at her face and she heard him
as he murmured, “
My word
…but you are a beauty.” He then
apparently realized what he had said and set her apart, “Come on
then.”

She was trembling from their encounter. She
had hoped he would kiss her. She had yearned for his kiss at that
moment, but was willing to settle for his compliment and told
herself it was a start. She laughed and said, “Come on where?”

“Back into the house.”

“Ah, of course. Where else would we be
going?” she returned with sweet amusement.

He laughed at that, stopped and tweaked her
nose. “That’s my good girl.”

They reached the main entrance and central
hall shortly afterward, but discovered they were too late. Star and
Edward were nowhere to be found.

They went in search of Miles, who saw them
coming and made a very good attempt to escape. Jules managed to
catch up and put a hand on Miles’ shoulder.

Apparently resigned, Miles turned and said,
“Oh hallo.”

“Well?” Jules demanded.

“Well? Well what?” Miles pretended
innocence.

“Where are they? Are they on their way to
Berkley? What has happened? What in all that is thunder and turf,
is going on? Tell me now Miles, what are we dealing with here?”

“Hmmm,” Miles offered glibly. “Truth—I
haven’t got a notion.”

Georgie nearly giggled for it was clear to
her that Miles wished he was anywhere else on earth but standing
there answering Jules’ questions.

“You must.” Jules was nearly exploding with
impatience.

“About
Vern
you mean?” Miles shook his
head. “No…no…don’t know a thing.”

Georgie reached out and rapped Miles’
shoulder. “Don’t pitch your gammon at us, Miles. I have known you
too long. You know why Vern came here, now tell us at once.”

Jules regarded her admiringly and then turned
back to Miles, “Indeed, my man. Now, do I choke it out of you, or
do you tell us what the deuce is going on?”

“Really Miss Madison, pitching gammon? What
sort of talk is that for a lady?” Miles said to Georgie and dodged
as she made a fist.

“Faith, Miles,” she answered after finally
connecting once more with his shoulder, “And the language is
precisely what I have learned at your elbow over all the years.
Don’t evade our questions.”

Jules beamed with pleasure and his eyes
connected with hers as he said, “You heard the lady, sir, now out
with it.”

“Well, I don’t mean to cast a rub at your
expectations,” Miles said apparently trying to stall. “The truth
is… I just don’t know what I can tell you. Vern was fevered, seemed
to want Star to go home with him. Sir Edward thought it best to
allow her to do just that and accompanied them in your carriage.
That is the long and the short of it.”

Georgie’s eyes narrowed. She knew him and
knew he was not telling the truth, “You know more and don’t mean to
tell us. You know I am staying the night with Star and I shall
badger her for an answer later.”

“Ah, yes, badger Star. Good notion, that,”
Miles agreed, definitely pleased to be free from interrogation. He
suddenly looked as though he had an idea and put a finger up to
say, “Is that a waltz I hear being struck up? Indeed, it is a
waltz. Miss Madison, will you do me the honor of waltzing with
me?”

Georgie looked flabbergasted but laughed and
said, “Miles, I never know what you are about, but indeed, I shall
waltz with you.”

Jules looked as though he were about to
object, but stood quietly by frowning darkly, apparently displeased
with this outcome.

As they moved to the lively melody, Miles
said sternly, “Georgie, if you mean to be friend to both Vern and
Star, you won’t ask anymore questions in front of strangers, like
Jules Stamford.”

“Why, what are you saying? Is Vern in
trouble? What is it, Miles?”

“Trouble?” Miles looked suddenly distressed.
“No, no, I did not mean to imply that and there is no reason to
believe that…what I mean is…well private matters must remain
private.”

“Miles! What is it? Something must be very
off, something awful has happened, hasn’t it? What?”

“No, no, but it is just that strangers may
not understand, you see.”

“Oh my faith! What has Vern become embroiled
in?” Georgie knew in her heart for some weeks that something had
been troubling Vern. She had noticed the little things left
unsaid.

“I have nothing to tell. I cannot. I gave my
word.”

Ah, she thought. She understood—it was a
thing of honor. Miles would not be budged on this. “Very well, sir.
If you won’t—
can’t
tell me, you know Star will tell me.”

“Indeed, I think she may,” he answered.

Suddenly all attention was diverted to the
other side of the ballroom where the punch bowl reposed on a linen
covered table. There was apparently a jolly colonel of some merry
reputation present. As he dipped one more time into the bowl, he
noticed his reflection in the light colored champagne libation and
grinned at what he saw therein.

He had apparently dipped quite a few times
already. His intimates standing nearby noticed and laughed out loud
as they wondered how it was he was still standing. He then found
something amusing and roared with laughter just before he passed
out, going head first into the bowl.

A roar of raucous mirth ensued as his friend
rushed to save him from drowning and dowagers clucked their tongues
with disapproval. Quite a stir continued for some moments and Miles
found that Georgie was distracted enough for him to slip away.

Miss Madison found Jules coming immediately
to her side. He maneuvered her away from the hubbub with ease. They
regarded one another and burst into laughter. She touched his chest
without thinking and felt a shockwave of sensation.

His hand covered hers and their eyes locked.
Oh, oh my
, thought Georgie…dare I hope?

Chapter Thirteen

STAR BENT OVER her brother and adjusted the
covers around him. She pushed a stray strand of hair off his
forehead and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “There, you may be my
elder, but you are far more trouble than I ever was to you or
Papa,” she said on a giggle.

He grinned at her, but he was fast drifting
off into the sleep he badly needed, “Go on, little sister. I am
sorry I’ve ruined the ball for you, but I was so…convinced…”

“Never mind. You have not ruined it. You have
quite made it the event of the season. I do believe the Seftons
have never before had such excitement at one of their affairs. They
are no doubt quite thrilled.”

Sir Edward smiled and touched her arm to say
softly, “Come Star, I think he will sleep now.”

She allowed him to take her ungloved hand and
lead her out of the room. However, he could feel her tense. She was
worried about what he was going to ask her. He knew something now
beyond a shadow of a doubt. Her brother was in dire straits.

He had suspected it earlier during the day
when he saw brother and sister together and then tonight when he
saw Vern walking into the ballroom.

It had not been a Berkley cousin he had seen
that night in the Mermaid Inn, but Star. She had tried to pretend
she was a male relative to cover for her brother, but when he
looked into her eyes, he knew at once, the lad at the Mermaid and
Star were one and the same. She was impulsive. She was heady and
lively, but she would not have done such a horrendous thing had her
brother not requested it of her, and he would not have asked it of
her had things not been gravely serious.

What could possibly have sent her alone into
such a place? What sort of tangle was the young lord embroiled
in?

Hell and Brimstone,
why should he
care
? However, he did care, probably too much. He couldn’t
fathom why, but he did.

He took Star’s hand and felt a rush of heat
infuse his blood. Every single time he touched her he was filled
with wanting. When he looked into her dark eyes, he was filled with
longing. What was that? Lust? For an innocent? That was not his
style. He did not play with innocents. There was no need for that,
but Star moved him beyond his normal needs.

Something about her made his internal
temperature blaze. Something about everything she said, everything
she did, made his mind feel fuzzy. He found himself staring at her
when she walked, when she laughed and talked. He discovered that he
desired more of her, not only sexually, but he simply wanted to be
in her company.

This was not good.

Jules wanted her as well—or thought he did.
Jules believed he might be in love with her. Jules was one of his
dearest friends. He couldn’t take her from Jules even if she wasn’t
right for his friend. He simply couldn’t…

Yet, he found that all he wanted to do was
take her into his arms and kiss her, hold her, touch her in the
most inappropriate way!

Hell! Bloody Hell
! His cock was hard,
so damn hard and…

He should just bid her goodnight.

What was driving him to get any deeper
involved? He shouldn’t and yet, he found it impossible to
leave.

“I don’t know how I can thank you for all
your help this night,” Star said as they reached the central hall
at the bottom of the stairs. She leaned into him, touched his vest
and the pressure of her hand even through his waistcoat sent
shivers through him.

It was all he could do to stop himself from
taking her into his arms.

Drawn to her in more ways than he had ever
thought possible. Her nearness made his manhood throb in his
breeches and negate all logic. If she pressed in any closer, he
might lose control, he might pull her in and hold her against that
hardness…
holy hell
, what was wrong with him? He couldn’t do
such a thing.

He said on a low husky note, “I could do with
a glass of brandy before I leave. That will be all the thanks
needed.” Damnation—certes! Brandy? That wouldn’t maintain his
control. What was he doing? He hadn’t meant to ask for brandy when
he opened his mouth. No, he had meant to simply bid her
good-night.

She smiled, evidently pleased, turned and led
him toward the library. He watched her enter the darkened room and
followed thinking
he should run
. Was he mad? He had to get
away. This woman, who he had thought he was not even seriously
attracted to when they first met, actually had him burning with a
desire that was threatening to obliterate any good sense he had
left in his brain.
Back away from her now
, he told himself
and moved forward.

He heard Star chattering nervously to him
about something inconsequential as she lit the candles on the
sideboard table. She rubbed her arms and he said, “You are cold. I
will light the fire.”
Light the fire
? He asked himself. What
the deuce is wrong with you? You aren’t staying.
She should go
up to her room
…to her bed.
Bed
? The thought of her naked
in her bed nearly undid him. He felt breathless all at once.

He grabbed some kindling and set it in place
in the grate as he worked to get the fire started, vigorously
attempting to think of anything other than her lovely full breasts
naked and ready to be…

Bloody hell.
You are doing it again.
Stop.
He demanded of himself. He usually knew what he was
doing. He usually knew how to escape when needed, but now all he
wanted and needed was Star in his arms. He wanted to taste her. He
wanted to put his hands all over her body and caress her. He wanted
to pleasure her and watch that pleasure express itself on her
face.

She came up to him and he unbent from the
fire to take the glass she handed him. He stared at her over the
glass as he sipped.

He was in control. His thoughts were wayward,
but he was in control, he told himself. Damn, but hadn’t he said,
she wasn’t even in his style. Yet, now he found he adored the way
her short hair framed her beautiful face. He loved her frank manner
of speaking, the way her full lips curved and the pertness of her
nose…

Stop!

Not for you
, Edward, he told himself.
Your friend Jules wants her.

He sat on the sofa and patted a place beside
himself and his pulse quickened when she did in fact, sit right
next to him. He must be a glutton for punishment because her
nearness drove him into a frenzy of heat.

Her dark eyes poured into his mind, leaving
him hungry. He found he couldn’t look away from her. There was a
depth of fire in her gaze that stirred him, yanked at his self
control. Her full lips pursed inquiringly and he found he couldn’t
speak for a moment. So instead, he pulled out the button he had
been carrying ever since he found it at the Mermaid Inn, showed it
to her and said, “Your button, Miss Berkley.” His voice cracked
with the words he forced out of himself.

She looked at him sharply. “My button?
Where…where did you get this?’

He watched her face and knew she was thinking
hard, trying to remember. He answered, “Where? Don’t you know? I
think you know.”

She took him on, “You are playing games with
me, sir. Why don’t you just tell me where you found this button and
why you choose to return it to me now?”