Love Became Theirs (13 page)

But there was suddenly an authority about him that contrasted oddly with the sprightly charm he normally displayed. Sometimes he seemed almost boyish, but at this moment he was a man, giving his commands, and expecting her to comply.

Rebellion rose in her. Why should he simply demand obedience while he refused to explain?

"You are unfair to me," she burst out.

"I know," he said gravely. "This is hard on you, and unjust. But I have no choice. It all depends whether you can trust me totally, blindly. I have no right to ask it of you. I've given you every reason to be suspicious of me, and no reason to think well of me.

"I'm asking everything of you, and giving back very little – at this moment. But I hope the time may come when I can repay you with my whole heart.

"If you tell me that I ask too much I shall go away and never blame you. It is up to you."

Suddenly a new, vibrant note came into his voice.

"Tell me, my darling, can you trust me? Can you take that risk? And it is a terrible risk. More terrible than you can imagine. It will take all your courage and all the love of which you are capable."

Rona gazed at him, full of dread as she started to realise that something was happening that she could not begin to imagine – something fearful and outside her experience.

Something that might end in anguish and despair.

Rona faced him.

"I will trust you," she said fervently, "until the end of time."

"God bless you!"

"But is there nothing I may ask you?"

"Nothing."

"Not even why you ran away from the ball at Westminster House, when somebody called your name? Why did you conceal the fact that you were in London that night? Your brother-in-law thinks you arrived a day later."

"I know. So does everyone, and they must continue to believe it. My presence at that ball was unknown, and must remain so. Harlequin needs to come and go in secret."

"Then Harlequin too is in danger?"

This time his mouth stretched not in a smile but in a blazing grin. "Never fear. They can't catch me."

"But if they did?" she asked fearfully. "What would they do?"

"It doesn't matter because they never will. I'm protected by spells."

"Don't make a joke of it," she begged.

But now nothing could dim his jesting confidence.

"Don't you believe in magic?" Harlequin asked. "You should, because you weave spells of your own. You hold me in thrall at this very moment, and while your magic surrounds me, I am safe from the worst that the world can do."

"But can't you tell me – ?"

Swiftly his hand was across her mouth.

"No," he said seriously. "I can tell you nothing, except that you must believe in me. Is that so hard?"

"Not when you are here with me. But you will go again, and then I may be afraid, and lose faith."

"No, you will not," he said at once. "Because you are brave, and you know that I will never really leave you. And one day – "

"One day – ?" Rona whispered eagerly.

"One day, God willing, our time will come. In the mean time – "

He gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

If she had doubted his identity before, she had no doubts now. His mouth was instantly familiar. This was the kiss she had dreamed of since that first kiss on another night, in another country.

That night at the ball now felt a lifetime ago. And yet the man was the same. Only she was different. The ignorant girl who had kissed him in the garden had been transformed since then into a woman with the confidence to take her life in her hands. Now that woman had found the man she loved, and nothing was going to stand in her way.

She kissed him back, pressing closer as his arms went around her and wrapping her own arms about him. She was his forever and she would believe in their ultimate union because she
must
believe it. Life would have no meaning for her otherwise.

He drew back and took her face in his hands, gazing down in the dim light. Distantly they could hear music coming from the ballroom.

"Dance with me," he whispered. "I cannot dance with you in front of the others. I would hold you too close, and reveal too much. If they saw us together everyone would know that you are the heart of my heart, and the light of my life."

"And I would want them to know that we love each other," she breathed. "I'd want to cry it to the world."

"One day we will. But not yet. First I have work that must be completed. When I have done my duty, then we will be free. Until then, dance with me, beloved."

The music reached them, sweet, aching, irresistible. He took her into his arms and began to move to the waltz. She closed her eyes and surrendered to him totally, following where he led, knowing only that she belonged to him, and would do so until the end of time.

At last the distant music stopped.

Again he took her face between his hands and looked searching at her.

"There are tears on your cheeks," he said. "Let me dry then."

He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her mouth, his lips lingering caressingly.

Then, suddenly, she was standing alone.

And when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

*

"Oh, Miss Johnson, there you are. I've been looking for you."

"I'm sorry Alice. I went out for some fresh air."

She had been away much too long, Rona realised. After Harlequin had left her, she could not face returning to the ballroom at once, so she had emerged into the cloisters and walked in the shadows until she felt more settled. Now she realised that she had been gone for an hour. Alice had some news that she was longing to tell.

"Uncle Peter's here. Isn't that wonderful? I knew he wouldn't forget me. I should have trusted him, shouldn't I?"

"Yes," Rona said, smiling. "You should have trusted him."

The happiness of her brief time with Harlequin still pervaded her. She felt that she could face anything now.

But it was still hard when she reached the dance floor and saw Peter with the Countess in his arms. Emilia was wearing her crimson velvet dress, flaunting it, and herself, extravagantly. As they danced she smiled up at him in a sly, provocative way and her lips moved. He laughed and she spoke again, her lips dangerously close to his.

Had he been the man in her dressing room, the man who'd paid for the dress that was designed to be removed?

But this was something she must not ask. She had promised to trust him, and she would not fall at the first hurdle.

She put her head up, and made herself smile.

"Miss Johnson, at last!"

She turned to see the Earl, splendid in evening attire.

"I'm sorry, sir, I was just – "

"My dear, I wasn't demanding an explanation. It's just that your absence caused quite a commotion amongst the young men. They'll be bearing down on you any moment, so perhaps I could claim my dance first."

Smiling, she went into his arms and they circled the floor in a waltz.

"How very sedate you look," he said. "I suppose you were right to refuse my suggestion."

"I'm sure I was."

"You won't be offended if I say that you still outshine every woman here?"

"I'm not offended, sir, but it isn't true. Nor is it proper for you to speak so to your employee."

"Forgive me," he said at once. "You're right, no gentleman ought to – you're at a disadvantage and I shouldn't have – I apologise."

It was hard to believe that this shy man, so lacking in personal confidence, was an Earl. Beneath the trappings of his rank he was decent, kind and curiously humble. She thought she had never liked anyone so much.

She said something to reassure him and he smiled as though the sun had come out. He even had enough confidence to demand another dance.

The evening swirled on. She danced and laughed and talked. Once she even found herself talking to Peter. He bowed to her gallantly, asked if she was enjoying the evening, but he did not ask her to dance.

It was hard, now, to believe that her interlude with Harlequin had actually happened.

*

Everybody slept late next morning. When they awoke it became a lazy day of drifting around discussing the triumphs of the night before.

"I shall remember it all my life," sighed Alice ecstatically as the ladies were enjoying a leisurely lunch. "There were so many handsome young men who wanted to dance and flirt with me."

"Of course there were," said Rona. "And from now on, there will be many more. You are going to be the belle of a hundred balls."

Alice's eyes widened. Then she asked,

"Are you really and truly saying this will happen to me?"

"Of course it will," Rona replied. "But you must be cautious, as you're still very young. And you must learn to be discriminating. When men pursue you, you have to decide whether they want you for yourself, or because your father is an Earl.

"Then one day, perhaps when you least expect it, you'll find a man who loves you just because you are you. He will adore you because you are the woman he's been looking for all his life."

"Oh, I can't wait," sighed Alice.

"You still have some work to do first. I think you know by now that knowing a language means not only that you understand the words someone is speaking, but what they are thinking and feeling. Sometimes they are not the same. A person might pretend great love for you, while secretly wondering what terms he can make."

"That's very true," said an unexpected voice, and they both looked up.

"Forgive me for listening to your private conversation," said the Earl, coming forward. "But I agreed with you so deeply that I had to join in. Some people speak loving words and think dark thoughts.

"But there are also others who think loving thoughts that they dare not voice. They speak of dull, every day things because they don't know how to tell someone what is in their hearts. So divining a person's true meaning can be as hard in your own language as in a foreign one."

"But surely," said Alice, "it would only be ladies who had to keep their feelings to themselves. A woman cannot tell a man that she loves him, but he can tell her."

"It's a convention that he can tell her," agreed her father. "But suppose the poor fellow is shy and tongue-tied, or maybe he feels that the lady is at a disadvantage, so he must treat her very carefully, for her sake?"

But these subtleties were beyond a very young girl who'd just scored her first big social success. After puzzling for a moment she asked Rona,

"Miss Johnson, do you understand about that?"

"I understand this," Rona said. "What we all want, every one of us is love. If you are patient, you will find it. I assure you it is more precious than anything else in the whole world."

"I hope I fall in love very soon," sighed Alice.

"Now that is very silly of you," chided Rona lightly. "At your age you can afford to enjoy being a success. And don't forget, you haven't made your official debut yet. In England you will be presented at court, and have a coming out ball, and at least a year of parties and balls. It's great fun, and don't be in a hurry to cut it short."

She regretted saying "it's great fun" as soon as the words were out. Perhaps she would be lucky and nobody would notice the slip.

But then she looked up to see the Earl regarding her with a quiet interest in his eyes.

*

Dinner was an informal meal that night. Everyone was still feeling the after effects of the night before. Now the men had returned home and again the talk was of the ball.

Monsieur Thierre was arguing that Alice's success was a reason for a longer visit. She must stay for at least another month. His wife backed him.

The Earl agreed to another week, but after that he was determined to go home.

"At this rate, when we return the dog will bark at us thinking we're strangers," he joked.

Everybody laughed. Then something strange happened.

As the laughter died, they could hear noises coming from the hall outside. Voices were raised in protest, but above them all came one voice that Rona thought she knew. Suddenly her blood ran cold. It was impossible, surely?

"My dear Rona, whatever is the matter?" the Earl asked her urgently. "You've gone white."

"Nothing, I – I'm sure it's nothing," she stammered.

"But it must be something very grave to make you look so ill." He laid his hand gently over hers. "Please tell me. Perhaps I can help."

The noise was getting louder. Now there was no doubt that it was her father's voice.

"How could he have found me?" she whispered. "Oh, this is terrible. I can't bear it."

His hand tightened on hers.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he said.

"There is nothing you can do. Nobody can save me."

"My dear girl, save you from what? Tell me, I'll do anything."

Monsieur Thierre had risen from his seat and started towards the door. The Earl also rose, looking at the door.

Rona's mind whirled. In just a few moments her fate would be sealed, and her head was full of confusion.

She could not prevent herself looking across at Peter. He alone had heard her father's voice before, and would understand what was happening. He had come to her aid before, and her heart had never forgotten.

But what would he do now?

Would this man, who still seemed at the Countess's feet, despite what he had said to her last night, want to trouble himself about her desperate situation?

She half expected to find him so engrossed in the Countess that he had no attention for herself, but he was gazing across the table at her, with something in his face that she could not read.

It was as if he were possessed by horror. His face was very pale and his eyes seemed almost aghast. Then his expression changed and a kind of resigned despair seemed to settle over him.

The next moment the door to the dining room was flung violently open, and James Trafford stood on the threshold.

His face was dark with fury as he took in the room. At last his gaze came to rest on Rona.

"So there you are," he snapped.

"Papa – "