The Worldly Widow (16 page)

Dalmar gently closed the double doors behind him and took a threatening step toward Annabelle. She looked around wildly. Nary a footman, lackey, or maid had had the gumption
to remain at his post. She squared her shoulders. Damn if she would take a leaf out of Wellington
'
s book! She
'
d let
Napoleon be her mentor. Attack, she decided, was the best method of defense. It was hours later before she belatedly remembered that her mentor had gone down in ignominy in the face of Wellington
'
s superior strategy.

Chapter Six

S
hutting her mind against the vivid images of the chase which had plagued her all evening, Annabelle concentrated on projecting a semblance of her habitual worldly poise. She was Annabelle Jocelyn, a force to be reckoned with, and there wasn
'
t a man born who could make her lose face.

Nevertheless, when Dalmar finally swooped down on her, she could not prevent herself from taking several quick backward steps.

His eyes searched hers, and the angry lines on his face gentled. "For God
'
s sake, Annabelle, what do you think I mean to do to you? You must know I could never hurt you.
"

"There is more than one way of hurting someone,
"
she said, and cautiously turned away. She settled herself on a small white satin settee and indicated that he was to take an adjacent chair.

Ignoring her outstretched hand and the careful distance she tried to set between them, Dalmar took the place beside her, crowding her against the armrest of the sofa. "What, that little contretemps with Temple? I let you off lightly, and you know it. What did you expect me to do when I finally caught up with you?
"

"To be frank, I never thought our paths would cross again.
"

"You don
'
t have to tell me that. If you had, you would have conducted yourself with a little more propriety.
"

It was evident that he did not plan to do her bodily harm. She peered at him curiously for a moment. Though she could not
say why, she had the sudden conviction that the kind of threat he posed was far more subtle than she understood. She was not sure whether or not she should take comfort from that thought. While she was still trying to make up her mind, he repeated his observation on her lack of propriety, only this time at greater length.

She snorted. "I wasn
'
t the one to air my dirty linen in public.
"

"No!
"
he shot back, his eyes sweeping over her, "and for a very good reason. You aren
'
t wearing drawers or petticoats, as anybody with eyes in his head can see.
"

She faltered a little. "It
'
s the fashion,
"
she said lamely, and hoped that she was not blushing.

"Fashion be damned! Not another lady here this evening was half as bold, yes, and there were a few hussies in their number, if I
'
m not mistaken.
"

Stung, she cried out, "You had no complaints about how I dressed in Paris,
"
and bit down on her tongue when she realized into what channels she had inadvertently turned his thoughts.

He flashed her a wicked grin. "Actually, I never noticed. You were wearing a pelisse over your gown. And when I found you in my bed, I thought you had removed your underthings to make it easy for me.
"

Refusing to be drawn into the subject of Paris and all that it might signify, she looked at him sternly and said, "You had no business to impinge my good name.
"

"To what?
"

"You tried to ruin me!
"

"How did I try to ruin you?
"

"I think that would be obvious,
"
she said, consciously coating her accents with all the sense of injury she had experienced in the last several hours.

As if reasoning with an unpredictable child, he said, "I was very careful to keep my voice down when I was in conversation with Temple, which is more than can be said for you. It was not by my design that anyone other than the Viscount should be made aware of our circumstances.
"
He shrugged. "I shouldn
'
t lose any sleep over it, if I were you. There may be speculation,
but it
'
s not as if you a
re a young debutante embarking o
n her first season. You
'
re a widow. You
'
re permitted a certain laxity in whom you see and in what you do. Though, to be frank, if tonight
'
s soiree is anything to go by, I should think you
'
d gone your limit even by the prevailing modes of the Devonshire House set.
"

"The Devonshire House set no longer exists,
"
she said, visibly bristling at the undeserved set-down. "And I take exception to being lumped with that iniquitous lot. I
'
m not a libertine. I don
'
t gamble. There
'
s never been a breath of scandal attached to my name.
"

"No. But as I hear tell, you
'
ve sailed pretty close to the wind on occasion.
"

"Yes, and never more so than tonight after your odious performance.
"

She was on her feet, and agitatedly pacing the floor. Dalmar stretched one arm along the back of the sofa and watched her perambulations from beneath half-hooded lids.

When she rounded on him, her eyes were sparkling. "Do you enjoy hurting people?
"
she demanded.

"To whom are you referring?
"

"Lord Temple, Cameron, myself,
"
she replied.

"Annabelle,
"
he said, very gently. "I consider that I
'
ve done Lord Temple a service. It is not a kindness to encourage him when his suit is hopeless. And as for that jackanapes Cameron, the fellow is insufferable. Can he really write poetry?
"

"People are willing to pay for it,
"
replied Annabelle evasively.

"Now why doesn
'
t that surprise me? If he puts on a performance like that again, perhaps I should consider breaking his fingers. It would be a favor to us all.
"

Her jaw sagged momentarily until she spied the laughter lurking in the depths of his eyes. She could not help the giggle which escaped her own lips. "Don
'
t trouble,
"
she said. "He
'
ll only expect me to act as his scribe.
"

That one little giggle seemed to open the floodgates. First there was a choked laugh, and then another, until finally Annabelle threw herself into a chair and gave herself up to unbridled mirth.

At length she turned to Dalmar and said simply, "Nerves.
"
When the laughter had finally subsided, she continued, "You
'
re like someone out of a Greek drama, do you know?
"

"Ouch!
"
said Dalmar. "Methinks the lady doth not take me seriously.
"

Annabelle flashed him a tolerant grin. "I
'
ll give you full marks for trying,
"
she said, suddenly feeling more in control of the situation. "No gentleman has ever adopted such a masterful manner with me before. Tell me, do you have much success when you take that tack with other ladies?
"

"No. I
'
ve never taken the trouble to go to such lengths. You should be flattered.
"

"Well, truth to tell, I
'
m not,
"
she answered
with a quick, quelling frown. "
It may be all a game to you, but I take leave to tell you that you
'
ve given me a few unquiet moments since you first descended on my doorstep. You know now that I
'
m not the woman you mistook me for in Paris. But on the slight chance that you are under some misapprehension, let me remind you that I am a respectable widow. I have a son. Did you know that? I would never do anything to hurt my son.
"

"Lucky boy,
"
murmured Dalmar.

"Why do you say so?
"

"Mmm? Oh, I was just thinking that with you as his mother he begins life with an enviable advantage.
"

The words were more revealing, Annabelle thought, than Dalmar knew. Somehow they touched her deeply. She wondered about his own childhood, but she feared to voice the questions which rose in her mind. "What a strange man you are,
"
she remarked idly.

"Why? Because I won
'
t take no for an answer?
"

"
That
'
s not what I was thinking. But I
'
m truly interested. Why is it so hard for you to accept my refusal?
"

"Because you don
'
t mean it. If you could say it and make me believe it, I wouldn
'
t be here now.
"

Annabelle blinked owlishly. "But I do mean it,
"
she protested.

His eyes, Annabelle noted, had gone as soft as velvet again. She wondered if many women had been able to resist that bedroom look.

"What about Paris?
"
he asked softly.

She answered with feeling, "David, please, try to understand. You caught me in a weak moment. You were sedated. I had consumed a couple of brandies. The intimacy of our situation
…
the even
ts leading up to that moment…
what I mean to say is
…
I could not help myself. I did not wish it to happen. It just did. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. In spite of all this,
"
sh
e went on, gesturing vaguely, "I'
m not that sort of woman.
"

The tightly drawn lines around his mouth relaxed into a faint smile. "Oh, I think I know you better than you give me credit for,
"
he told her, and reached out to grasp her wrist. He tugged gently till they were positioned knee to knee.

"David,
"
she warned, "there can be no repetition of that night.
"

With one sharp jerk, he tumbled her into his lap. His arms came around her like iron manacles. "Do you intend to resist me?
"
he asked, laughter threading his voice.

"With my last breath,
"
she avowed, the second before his lips made speech impossible.

She clenched her teeth so tightly it would have required a vise to pry them apart. What Dalmar could not effect by straight assault, however, he gained by diversionary tactics. His hand closed over the soft contour of a breast. Annabelle
'
s lips opened to suck in air, and Dalmar
'
s tongue swept in to make its first foray into forbidden territory. Swiftly rallying, Annabelle clamped her teeth on the brazen invader. For the space of several seconds, she savored the sweet thrill of victory. It was to be short lived. She felt the persistent graze of his thumb on one nipple, and she gave up her prize to voice her protest. Somewhere between thought and word, the protest translated into a whimper of reluctant pleasure.

That small, choked cry of mingled feminine distress and desire acted on Dalmar like a siren song. He shifted her in his arms, arching her back to expose the long column of her throat and softly swelling breasts.

Annabelle understood the peril of her position. Give the man an inch and he would take a mile! Drawing on reserves of feminine intuition she scarcely knew she possessed, she
resorted to a less ad
versarial approach.

"David, please, you
'
re hurting me.
"
The pressure of his arms eased a little, and on a more hopeful note she added, "This isn
'
t going to prove anything, you know.
"

She thought for a moment he had not heard her, so intent was his gaze on her softly heaving bosom. For the space of five seconds she contrived to stop breathing. It was a mistake. It seemed only to increase his fascination with her anatomy. She felt the bodice of her gown dip as he lowered it, and a long shuddering breath was torn from her lungs.

"David, please! I wasn
'
t quite truthful about Paris. All right! So I knew perfectly well what I was doing. Can
'
t we talk about it?
"

"You should have used those tactics earlier,
"
he said, his voice darker than she had ever heard it. "I want a damn sight more from you now. Admit that you belong to me. Then and only then shall we discuss terms of surrender.
"

Feminine intuition, not one of Annabelle
'
s strong suits, was immediately abandoned when she heard these inflammatory words. "Go to Hades!
"
she snarled, and did a little jig on Dalmar
'
s lap in a vain attempt to free herself.