When Only a Rake Will Do (17 page)

“Lizzie.”

“Lizzie,” Amelia said again, more loudly this time, finally nudging her sister with her elbow when she failed to respond.

“What?” Lizzie replied, finally turning her head toward Amelia.

“Honestly, that is the second time that I have said your name,” Amelia stated in mild irritation.  “Are you simply woolgathering or has something caught your attention?”

“Not something,
someone
.”

“Who?” Amelia asked, starting to turn around.

“No, don’t turn around just yet,” Lizzie hissed, grasping her sister’s arm.

While both Daphne and Amelia looked at her in surprise, fortunately Lord Haywood and Lord Palmerston who stood nearby were oblivious to Lizzie’s comments, engaged at the moment in a discussion about the upcoming races at Newmarket.

“There’s a gentleman standing just over there,” she began, motioning to the right with a slight tilt of her head, “who’s been staring at Daphne for the past several minutes.”

“At me?”

Lizzie nodded.  “He’s dressed all in black, in the costume of a highwayman I’d guess.”

Amelia gasped.  “What if it’s him?”

Daphne’s brows drew together.  “Him?”

“You know,
him
, the masked stranger, the man of your dreams,” she breathed in a dramatic whisper.

“Oh my, he’s heading this way,” Lizzie announced excitedly.

Not likely, Daphne mused ruefully, though she certainly didn’t voice the thought aloud.

“I’m simply dying to turn around,” Amelia uttered quietly.

“Not yet.”

A moment later the man in black appeared at Daphne’s side.  She turned then, as both Amelia and Lizzie’s eyes went wide behind their masks.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deliberately low so that it wouldn’t carry to those standing nearby.

Daphne felt the breath catch in her throat, for even if she weren’t looking directly into those beautiful blue eyes she knew so well, she would have recognized the husky timbre of his voice anywhere.  “Yes?”

She recognized him, he could tell.  “I believe the next dance is to be a waltz and I was hoping that you would do me the honor of partnering me,” he said quietly, motioning toward the dance floor. 

Daphne glanced toward the orchestra stand, noting that the musicians had returned and were taking up their instruments once again.  “Yes, of course,” she murmured, her heart hammering in her chest.

Brendon offered her his arm and she took it without hesitation.

Completely oblivious to Amelia and Lizzie’s wide-eyed stares as she walked away, her attention was focused entirely upon the man beside her. 

“Queen Guinevere is it?”

She nodded.  “How did you know?”

He smiled.  “Considering your fondness for romantic tales, it was merely an educated guess.”

“Ah,” she said, returning his smile.  “And if
I
were to hazard a guess as to the reasoning behind
your
costume of choice, I would have to assume that due to your penchant for avoiding Society affairs such as this, it was its ability to thoroughly disguise your identity.”

Brendon laughed aloud.  “I always knew you were a clever girl.”

Leading her onto the dance floor, he positioned Daphne within his arms as the first lilting notes of the Viennese Waltz filled the air and then spun her into the first turn.  “I must say you do look quite fetching in your medieval garb, my lady,” he said, his tone blatantly admiring. 

“Thank you,” Daphne replied, her eyes locking with his, wishing she could see his entire face.

“Then again you always look beautiful, no matter what you’re wearing.  Or not wearing,” he stated impetuously, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Daphne swallowed hard, nearly missing a step as they revolved into the next turn.

Brendon noticed the sudden tension in Daphne’s body and silently cursed himself.  “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I… you needn’t apologize,” she replied softly. 

“Nevertheless, what I should have said is simply that you look enchanting this evening, my lady,” he said with absolute sincerity.

“Well then, I shall simply say thank you,
again
,” she responded with a warm smile.

“So tell me, Queen Guinevere, are you enjoying your first masquerade?” he asked as they continued to move counterclockwise around the floor.

She was about to give the same standard response that she’d given a dozen times already that night, but looking into Brendon’s eyes, she couldn’t help but reply honestly.  “I am now.”

This time it was Brendon who nearly missed a step.  Hell, when she looked at him like that he could hardly think straight. 

“Though I confess that I am rather surprised to see you here,” Daphne continued softly, “knowing you tend to avoid such gatherings.”

“I hadn’t planned on attending,” Brendon admitted, regaining his focus with no small degree of difficulty, “but ultimately I yielded to my lovable, yet remarkably tenacious sister-in-law’s cajoling, for she is determined that I make an appearance from time to time.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, forcing a lightness to her voice, for foolish as it might be, she couldn’t deny feeling a twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t come to see her.

“I
am
glad that I came, however.”

“You are?”

“Indeed, for if I hadn’t I would have missed the opportunity to hold you in my arms once more, if only for a short while.”

Her spirits lifting, Daphne nodded, smiling softly as she met his steady gaze.  “I’m glad that you came too.”

They continued in silence for a time, their bodies moving in time to the music as they simply enjoyed the moment.

For Daphne it was bittersweet, for as her hand rested atop his muscular shoulder and she breathed in his delicious masculine scent, she couldn’t help wishing that they were alone, that they were back at Rose Cottage lying naked in each other’s arms. Senseless as it was, she couldn’t help wishing that things were different.

As Brendon spun Daphne around the floor, his hand resting lightly against the small of her back, he couldn’t help but remember the way he’d caressed that very spot, his fingers trailing along the base of her spine to the curve of her naked derrière, the way he’d caressed nearly every inch of her luscious body just weeks before.  And in that instant he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and carry her from the ballroom, to take here somewhere they could be alone, somewhere he could strip the clothes from her body and make love to her until they were both satisfied and utterly replete.  His hand tightened reflexively against her back, drawing her closer, unmindful of those around them. 

Daphne felt the sudden tightening of his hold, her breath catching as he pulled her closer.  In that instant everything around her seemed to fade into the background until she was oblivious to all but the man holding her in his arms.  She wished that they weren’t wearing these silly costumes, wished that she could see his face. 

Inhaling the subtle yet tantalizing scent of her perfume, Brendon fought against the sudden, overwhelming desire to lean forward and place his lips against the sensitive little spot on her neck just below her ear. 
No!
  Get hold of yourself damn it, he thought in the very next instant, struggling to clear his head. There were people around them, and far too many for someone not to notice that he was holding her much too closely, he realized.  That was the problem of course; he couldn’t seem to think straight when he was with her.  His jaw tightening in consternation, he forced himself to loosen his hold.

Daphne could tell the moment Brendon recalled himself, for it brought her back to her senses as well.  And disheartening as it was she had to appreciate that at least one of them had their wits about them, for despite her costume she was hardly unrecognizable and thus could not afford to behave so recklessly.  In all likelihood the earl was watching her even now.

“I fear that I must apologize yet again,” Brendon said contritely, “for I seem to forget myself when I’m with you.”

“Then surely I must apologize as well,” Daphne replied with a faint smile, “as you seem to have a similar effect upon me.”

Looking into her beautiful, expressive eyes, he recalled Margaret’s words once again. 
She’s in love with you.
  “Daphne I-”

Unfortunately, however, whatever words Brendon had been about to speak were lost as the music came to an end, leaving Daphne to stare at him in uncertainty as he stepped back and immediately released his hold.  She waited for him to continue but he merely held out his arm, waiting until she’d placed her hand lightly upon his sleeve before leading her from the dance floor.  “A moment ago, what were you going to say?” she asked as they moved along with the other couples exiting the floor.

Damn it, he thought to himself, what
had
he been about to say?  Ah hell, he wasn’t sure he even knew.  “I was merely going to ask how you were doing?” he said instead, thankful at the moment that the dammed mask he was wearing covered half of his face. “If you were alright, since returning to London that is,” he clarified, keeping his voice low.

“Oh,” Daphne murmured. 
Fool
, she chided silently.  What had she been hoping that he would say?  That he’d fallen in love with her, just as she had with him?  That he was going to rescue her from her miserable fate and sail away with her into the sunset, just like in her silly fantasies?  “Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, struggling to inject an air of nonchalance to her tone. 

“Good,” he said, feeling like a complete ass.  “I’m glad.”

She paused for a moment, and then spoke quietly.  “At the cottage, you asked me to contact you if…” she faltered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.  She tried again.  “I can tell you now…what we discussed…there won’t be any
unexpected complications
.”  She’d gotten her monthlies the week before.

For a moment Brendon’s breath seemed to catch in his chest, for he knew exactly what unexpected complications Daphne was referring too.  She was telling him that she wasn’t with child.  “I see,” he managed, clearing his throat with a slight cough.  “Well, that’s a relief then.”

“Yes.”

They reached the edge of the dance floor then, stepping into the multitude of guests circulating along the periphery.  “Daphne,” he said as she lifted her hand from his arm, “if there’s ever anything that you need…”

She nodded, feeling a lump rising in her throat.  “Thank you.”

He smiled then, a brief, tender smile.  “Thank you for the dance, my lady,” he said then, and with a polite bow he turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

“Goodbye, Brendon,” she whispered softly.

“Well?”  Lizzie demanded eagerly, as she and Amelia hastened to Daphne’s side a few moments later.

Daphne eyed her blankly.

“Was it him?” Amelia asked excitedly.

“Him?”

“Honestly Daphne,” Lizzie huffed, regarding her in exasperation.  “The man we were discussing just minutes ago, the mysterious stranger, the man of your dreams?”

“Oh, yes of course,” she replied, struggling to clear her head.  “Well, um, he was quite pleasant, but no, I don’t think that particular gentleman has a place in my future,” she hedged.

“No?”

“Who was he?”

Daphne shook her head.  “He didn’t tell me his name,” she replied, skirting the truth.

Both Lizzie and Amelia frowned, their expressions revealing their mutual disappointment.

“Perhaps what you need is a change of scenery,” Amelia suggested after a moment.

“A change of scenery?”

“Yes,” Amelia said, her expression quickly altering to one of enthusiasm.  “You should accompany us to Newmarket for the weekend.”

“Oh yes, that’s a splendid idea,” Lizzie agreed. 

Amelia nodded excitedly.  “There are bound to be dozens of eligible gentlemen in attendance and assuredly several with whom you aren’t already acquainted.”

“Well, I’m not sure-”

“Oh do say you’ll come,” Lizzie pleaded, grasping Daphne’s hand.  “Please.”

“Yes, please say you’ll join us.”

It would be nice to get out of London for a while, Daphne considered, and to focus on something other than her hopeless infatuation with Brendon, or her imminent marriage to the Earl of Blackburn, at least for a short while.  “Yes, alright.  I shall.”

Having made his presence known to the evening’s hostess, Felicity Wittingham, as well as his brother and sister-in-law, Brendon left the masquerade, arriving home less than an hour later. 

As the night was still relatively young, he’d briefly considered stopping by for a change of clothes and then spending the remainder of the evening at one of his clubs, but as it turned out he simply wasn’t in the mood.  Thus he made his way slowly up the stairs and down the hall to his bedchamber, feeling far wearier than he had any reason to be.