To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance) (23 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

BOOK: To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)
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Yet as Meredith again scanned the room anxiously, she revised her opinion. That pattering of excitement, that burst of anticipation when Trevor was near her was markedly missing. She felt deep in her bones that the marquess was not here.
Yet the unease of being closely watched persisted.
Her eyes darted anxiously about the room, but no one appeared to be paying her the least bit of attention. Meredith’s chest grew tight and she found herself clenching her fan so tightly one of the fragile wooden slats snapped in half.
Shaking off her nervous twittering, Meredith struggled to focus her thoughts and calm her emotions. She was acting like a ninny! She was standing in the midst of a crowded ballroom, surrounded by more than a hundred people. It was perfectly safe. There was no one to harm her.
The strains of instruments being tuned caught her attention and provided the perfect diversion. A new set of partners would soon be forming in the center of the ballroom. Filled with resolution, Meredith went in search of the duke. It was time for her to dance.
 
 
He stood behind the marble column and watched her twitter and shake.
She knows she is being observed! And it disturbs her. How marvelous.
Her fear and discomfort brought him a moment of pleasure on this otherwise dismal night. He had felt restless and edgy, a need he recognized within himself, a need that cried out to be assuaged. But he could not leave the mansion. The duke’s ball had filled every inch of the house. There were too many people about, guests and servants, too many eyes that might see what was none of their concern.
There would be dancing until well into the morning, keeping him a prisoner inside the house, for he could not risk being seen either leaving or returning. This made him angry, more driven to act.
He had not felt settled for the past week. The last girl had been a grave disappointment. He had made her acquaintance at the glove shop only a week prior to killing her. She had been shy and stammering, just as he preferred. A sweet innocent, too trusting to know evil when it had embraced her.
Yet she had died that way too—with no fight, no spirit. Her struggles had been minimal, her cries and pleas nearly unheard. It brought him so little pleasure he briefly considered stopping before the job was finished, but he knew that would be foolish.
The shop girl knew his face, could identify him to the authorities. The chances of his being located were very slim, and if that somehow miraculously occurred he would, of course, insist the girl was mistaken. It would come down to his word against hers. He had no doubt he could win such a battle, could convince other men he was innocent and she was merely being a vengeful female.
Had he not proved how clever he was all these years by walking among them, the frivolous society of well-bred ladies and gentlemen? And they suspected nothing.
Yet in this case he could not afford to take the chance. Other female bodies had been discovered in town, young women who had died in a similar manner, with the deep marks of his hands upon their necks.
So he had finished killing her, wringing out a small bit of delight at the stark look of horror in her eyes seconds before they closed for all eternity. He sighed deeply at the memory. So much effort for so little satisfaction was surely a crime.
A swirling mass of color fluttered before him, jarring him back to the present, back to the ball. He saw Lady Meredith in the center of the dance floor, prancing delicately in front of an older, distinguished gentleman. Her father-in-law, the Duke of Warwick.
The man snorted. He was not as easily fooled as the others. She had attracted much attention with this behavior, been applauded for her virtue, for rising above any scandal. Yet the fact remained she had made a hasty marriage to a man who now neglected and ignored her.
He knew that hurt her. He had seen it in her eyes the morning of the duel. She had been frantic with worry to stop the duel, not only to spare her precious brothers, but to spare the marquess any harm. He had never suspected she cared for the marquess so deeply. It was amazing to see the truth revealed, to learn this most important secret of her heart.
’Twas just and fitting revenge that she who had caused such humiliation to others would in turn be treated with scorn and little regard. How wonderful that this ice maiden who was so beautiful and cold, who had rejected honorable offers of marriage from so many men who were superior to her in every way, was now tied to someone who had no regard for her. Who showed her no respect and no consideration.
The man smiled wickedly at the mystery of fate’s justice. Lady Meredith had become the most pitiful of all society’s creatures—the neglected, forsaken wife.
He knew it must rankle her pride, wound her heart to be treated in such a disgraceful manner. That was good. For as long as Dardington ignored her, she would suffer. And as long as she suffered, she would be allowed to live.
Fourteen
Some women felt incomplete without a man by their side. Meredith had always prided herself on being beyond that, on feeling she alone knew what was best when it came to managing her life. Yet as she lingered the morning after the ball in her sitting room, staring at an uncompleted letter she was composing to her friend Faith, Meredith conceded what she really wanted was to discuss the unsettling feelings she had experienced last night—with a man.
Her father-in-law was the natural choice. He was kind, levelheaded, and very much concerned about her. If the opportunity had presented itself, Meredith probably would have mentioned it to him, but the carriage ride home from the ball last night had been unusually brief.
She could always call upon her brothers and solicit their opinion, but she hesitated. She had been impressed by their recent signs of maturity, but they still tended to overreact to a situation. If she confided that she thought she was being watched by someone, they would no doubt raise a cry of alarm.
When considering that reaction, it was logical to conclude the ideal person to ask would be Trevor. He was intelligent, worldly, and calm in the face of danger. Yet it behooved her to remember her husband preferred to have as little to do with her as possible. That thought stayed with her all through the night, making her decision not to say anything to her husband an easy one.
Meredith’s gaze shifted back to her unfinished letter. If only Faith were in town, Meredith could discuss with her good friend the fear and unease that had caused her such a restless night. She had barely slept, plagued by half-formed disturbing dreams that kept her tossing and turning in her bed.
Given the chance, she would even reveal her concerns to Faith’s husband, if her friend thought that would help. Unfortunately, this was not the sort of problem one could easily explain in a letter.
We had a lovely time at the ball last evening. I so enjoyed seeing Elizabeth again, and even Harriet managed to behave herself. My brothers are completely taken with Elizabeth, while totally fearful of Harriet, the ever present chaperon. Oh, and by the by, I have a great anxiety about being followed and observed by an unseen stranger that I can neither prove nor adequately explain.
Meredith threw down the quill in frustration. Was she making too much of all this? Probably. Heaving a sigh, she picked up her pen and dipped it in the ink. Bending her head, she set herself to the task of completing her letter, without any mention of her wild imaginings.
Meredith was concentrating on keeping the tone of her letter light hearted and amusing when the hairs on the nape of her neck lifted. Then she heard a footfall behind her. It was Rose’s half day off, so she knew it could not be her maid. And the chambermaids had already cleaned and aired her bedchamber.
Meredith had not rung for any servants. There would therefore be no reason for any of them to be in her rooms. Besides, a servant would knock before entering her private quarters.
“I had not expected to find you at home at this time of the day.”
Meredith spun around, her pulse beating in an uneven rhythm. Trevor stood in the doorway, his expression openly curious. Meredith swallowed hard. “Goodness, you startled me.”
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the door frame. “For a moment you looked absolutely terrified.”
“I have been a bit jumpy as of late,” Meredith admitted. “And you are, of course, the last person I expect to see in my rooms.”
He grimaced, and Meredith regretted her choice of words. Steeling herself for his scathing comeback, she put down her quill and faced him fully.
“Do you have plans for the afternoon?”
She bit the inside of her cheek to hold her reply until she could speak in a tone devoid of amazement. He never asked about her plans. “I have nothing specific to attend to today. Is there something you need me to do for you?”
“Actually, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to a horse race.”
There was a short silence. Taken aback by this sudden offer, Meredith’s befuddled brain was slow to react.
“I have never been to a horse race,” she finally said, wondering if she sounded as much like a simpleton as she felt.
“Why does that not surprise me?” He gave her a wry grin. “I think you might enjoy it. ’Tis a beautiful sunny day, and the weather promises to remain warm. The fresh air will do you good.”
It would be wonderful, Meredith thought, and the sudden quickening of her pulse confirmed the idea. An entire afternoon with the marquess by her side. How could she possibly refuse?
“Are you certain you wish me to accompany you?”
“ ’Tis just a horse race, Meredith. There’s no need to look so astonished. By your reaction, one would think I have asked you to frolic naked in the fountain outside Prinny’s palace.”
She tilted her chin and gave him a wide-eyed innocent stare. “Is that how you celebrate the end of the race? By romping
sans
clothing in a fountain?”
Trevor laughed. “You’d cause a riot.”
“ ’Tis better than causing a scandal, sir.”
“And a far more pleasing sight.” He flashed her a sensuous, disarming glance. “Though I prefer privacy when viewing your
au naturel
womanly charms, my dear.”
Flustered, Meredith turned back to her letter. His potent physical presence was beginning to dominate her, and that warm, inviting look in his lovely blue eyes was playing havoc with the speed of her heart. “To avoid the crowd, we would have to swim at night,” she ventured.
“That rather defeats the entire purpose, don’t you agree? Daylight is far more sensuous.”
Her face was flaming red, her breath shallow. Heat prickled across her skin. The erotic thoughts that popped suddenly into her head were so vivid they were almost disturbing. But she wasn’t about to be outdone.
She turned back around and faced him. “Must it be Prinny’s fountain? The garden here contains several lovely fountains. The one near the boxwood maze is particularly enchanting—and private.”
His eyes darkened with a sensual desire that sent a shiver of anticipation up her spine.
“How wrong for society to label me the wild one,” he said softly. “ ’Tis you who possesses the erotic soul.”
For one frantic moment Meredith thought he was going to move toward her and gather her in his strong embrace. Every instinct she possessed urged her to press herself forward, but she knew that would be wrong. No matter how difficult it might be, she had to wait for him to come to her.
He hesitated, and Meredith’s heart sank. If he thought too long about his actions, he would not follow his inclinations. As she expected, he made a muffled comment about seeing her later and quit the room.
Disappointed but not defeated, Meredith returned to her correspondence. Though she had longed to feel his strong arms about her, had wished for his lips to press against hers, she accepted it was not going to occur—right now.
There was an entire afternoon to look forward to, and Meredith was very determined to make sure there would be several opportunities for exchanging kisses. And maybe even a dip in the fountain!
It was a lovely day to be out-of-doors. Meredith had difficulty containing her smile as she perched beside the marquess on his curricle’s box seat. She was glad he had decided to take the open two-seater carriage. It allowed no room for servants, affording them more privacy.
Meredith enjoyed watching Trevor drive. He handled the reins as he did most things, with ease and accomplishment. Though they did not converse in the carriage, Meredith felt relaxed and hopeful. She determined this would be an enjoyable afternoon. Even the weather seemed to be cooperating. The sun was partially screened by drifting clouds, making the temperature pleasantly cool.
They drove to an area on the outskirts of town that was unfamiliar to Meredith. It was less crowded, more rural in nature, with a main road that led past small brick houses, shops, and stables. They rounded a curve and came to a crossroads with an inn on one side and a church on the other.
The marquess hesitated for an instant, then turned past the church. Meredith edged forward in her seat as the muttering sounds of a boisterous crowd grew louder and the smell of fried pies caught at her nose.
“This is not the type of outing you are used to attending.” A shadow came over his face. “The crowd can get a bit rough at times. Are you certain you wish to see the races?”
Meredith turned her head sharply. “You promised me a new experience, and I fully intend to keep you to your word. Besides, I am perfectly safe with you by my side.”
“We can leave the carriage here,” Trevor decided. He deftly maneuvered the coach beside a fancy barouche. “The racecourse is just beyond the lawn.”
Trevor secured the horses, then assisted her from the carriage. The breeze fluttered her bonnet ribbons. Meredith unfurled her parasol and lifted it to protect herself from the sun, which was now out in full splendor.
The marquess reached inside the boot of the carriage and drew out a small basket. He started toward her, then stopped.
“I give you fair warning, madame, if the wind carries that bit of lace and ruffles away I am not going to chase after it.”
“I understand.” She twirled the parasol smartly, then grinned. “If I lose it in the wind, you may simply buy me another.”
He frowned, but said no more. Meredith led the way, her heart pounding with eager excitement. In the distance she could see a haze of dust surrounding the course, could hear the sounds of laughter and shouting. The air fairly crackled with a light, festive mood.
As they neared the other spectators, the marquess extended an arm. Meredith took it, grateful for his steady presence to help her negotiate the occasionally rutted lawn, which was particularly challenging in her walking slippers.
It also gave her a feeling of safety to stroll through this mostly male crowd under the obvious protection of her husband. Even though he was elegantly garbed in a brown tailcoat, tight buckskin breeches, and knee-high boots, the width of his shoulders and the muscles in his arms proclaimed him a highly fit gentleman.
Meredith saw many faces she recognized, but more that she did not. Surprisingly, there were few females among the throng and those she did glimpse were dressed in colorful garments that were fashionable yet daring. Some even sported cosmetics on their faces.
Meredith struggled not to stare or be too obvious in her curiosity about these women. However, she was not the recipient of equally good manners. She could hear distinct whispers as she walked by several gentlemen. One dandy in an appalling jacket of canary yellow turned his head so quickly in her direction that he winced with pain, while another fumbled anxiously for the quizzing glass that hung from a black ribbon around his neck.
At last successful, he raised it to his eye and peered at her speculatively in openmouthed astonishment. More than anything, she wished she possessed the nerve to lift her chin and stick her tongue out at him.
Meredith could not determine if the astonishment she was receiving was because these men were unused to seeing true ladies at these events or because it was an amazing sight for the Marquess of Dardington to be seen escorting his wife
anywhere
.
“I see some people I know, but far more who are unfamiliar. Especially the women. Are there any . . .” Meredith’s voice trailed off as she sought to find the appropriate word.
“Mistresses, loose women, prostitutes among the crowd? Absolutely.” She heard Trevor’s low chuckle of mirth. “I venture to say you are the most respectable woman here, my lady.”
“Goodness, this is a fast crowd.” She could feel his eyes upon her, studying her. Waiting for an outburst of indignity? It would never come. Meredith was hardly in a position to pass judgment on any female, and well she knew it. She dragged in a steadying breath. “May we see the horses before the race?”
“The stables are this way.”
They progressed to an area of temporary horse stalls that were bustling with activity. Riders, grooms, and trainers were busy preparing the first set of horses for the race. There were to be five running in the initial heat. Meredith stared with full appreciation as the horses were led toward the starting line, snorting and stamping their hooves in anticipation. With their sleek coats glistening in the sun, Meredith thought they were all magnificent.
“Which horse do you favor to win the contest?” Meredith asked.
“The handsome long-necked bay. He is a stallion with spirit as well as heart. They call him Rascal.”
Meredith smiled. “Is that not an unusual name for a racehorse?”
“I like it. Come, let’s take a seat.” The marquess guided her to a shaded area, then up the steps to the grandstand. He selected a row that held no other occupants. “Since I own the animal, my opinion of his name is really all that matters.”
“I was unaware you owned racehorses.”
“Rascal is the first. Consequently, this is also his first competitive showing. The trainer assures me he is ready.” Trevor settled in his seat. “I can only hope he has a respectable finish.”

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