Earl of Scandal (London Lords) (10 page)

After a few moments of food and polite conversation, the Cassell sisters appeared to have recovered their composure. Christian met Caroline at the buffet table and asked in a quiet aside, “What the devil do you suppose happened to the Cassell chap?”

Caroline shook her head before answering in a low terse voice. “I have no idea, but my advice would be to let the matter drop. It’s obvious that it distresses them excessively.”

“His fall from grace need not represent anything too terrible,” Christian mused, “perhaps something as simple as being expelled from school. I suspect that it doesn’t take much to horrify the Cassell sisters. They’ve lived very sheltered lives.”

“All the more reason to respect their feelings and let the matter alone.”

Christian nodded in agreement at Caroline’s advice, but he still burned with curiosity as he went to ask Merissa and Elizabeth if they would like seconds on food or drink. Although the Cassell sisters appeared to live dull, uncomplicated lives, he was finding out that there was more to them than mere sweetness and light.

Especially Merissa. He’d never before known a woman with such a passionate temperament, or such ingenuous innocence in revealing it to the world. Again, he recalled her intense response when he kissed her, the way her body melted in his arms. Ah, to what uses he would put Merissa’s fiery nature, if he had a chance.

“Ladies, more food?” he asked. “Another glass of sherry?”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Elizabeth demurred.

Merissa, whose mouth was full, simply shook her head. Christian nodded to a footman to take their plates, then gestured to the ballroom. “Shall we? I think I hear the musicians tuning up.”

Merissa rose excitedly. “There’s an orchestra? Truly?”

“Not exactly an orchestra. I fear it would be impossible to import that many professional musicians from London this time of year. But Caroline did promise that there would be dancing.”

Elizabeth stood up more slowly. “Remember, Merissa,” she said, “you’ve never danced in public before.”

Merissa looked awkward and shy once again. “Yes, perhaps it would be prudent to wait until the dance floor is crowded and no one can see me.”

“Or, I could lead you in a few steps out in the hall,” Christian offered. “That way you would be warmed up when the time came.”

“Oh, would you?”

Christian gazed into her luminous blue eyes and considered that what he’d like to do at that moment was to dance her into an empty bedchamber and divest her of every scrap of clothing. Instead, he suggested to Elizabeth, “Please come along. You can watch and tell us if we make a misstep.”

Seven

“See, there’s nothing to it.”

Merissa nodded breathlessly as Christian twirled her around the polished marble floor of the hallway. Dancing with this man was very different than dancing with her sister, or Charles for that matter. She’d never been aware of the strength in their arms, the firmness of their chests, the subtle fragrance of their cologne going to her head and making her feel lighter than air. She could scarcely hear the music from the ballroom, but it didn’t matter. With Christian, she floated along on some enchanted cloud where everything felt beautiful and graceful and perfect.

Too perfect. Doubt nagged at her mind. If she were not careful, she would become enamored of all of this—her pretty dress, the palatial surroundings, the handsome lord holding her in his arms. She must remember that she was Cinderella and at midnight it would all vanish.

“Let’s stop for awhile,” she said. “I seem to be getting dizzy.”

“Bravo, bravo!” Elizabeth called from the stairs as Christian gently released Merissa. “You looked stunning.”

“It’s your turn,” Christian said.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” Elizabeth drew back. “Merissa’s the musical one, not I.”

“It’s all up to your partner. I can make you look as if you were born to dance.”

Elizabeth giggled, and Christian grasped her hand and helped her up.

Merissa stood back, watching them. Christian certainly knew what he was about. He was able to subtly convey his next movement to his partner, and make it seem natural and effortless. Even Elizabeth—who Merissa knew was half tone deaf and rather awkward—appeared sylph-like and assured on Christian’s arm.

She sighed. It was not fair that a man be so irresistible, so tall and broad-shouldered and manly, with the face of a mischievous angel and breath-taking blue eyes and dimples.

Especially when she knew he was an amoral, decadent scoundrel at heart.

The familiar ache started in her chest. No matter how she mentally flayed herself for allowing Christian to take indecent liberties, she knew that if he took her off alone again and kissed her, she would behave exactly the same. She would yield, surrender, abandon herself. He seemed to have some sort of power over her, as if he knew her secret thoughts, how she longed to be touched and held.

Of course he did. He’d done the same thing with countless women. The thought aroused her from her dreamy, wistful mood. The sight of a woman in a scandalously cut gown coming down the hallway further brought her to her senses. That was the sort of female capable of capturing Christian Faraday’s interest, not a plain, boyish hoyden like her.

Merissa watched as the woman’s painted lips curled into a contemptuous smile. Then the woman adjusted the jeweled ornament in her hair and sauntered towards them with a walk so blatantly provocative that Merissa’s mouth dropped open.

“Ah, Christian, ever the good Samaritan, teaching country lasses the latest steps from London.” The woman put her hand on Christian’s upper arm and stroked him as one would a cat. “Surely by now you’ve tired of having your feet trampled. It’s time you found a partner who knew what she was about.” She laughed and added, “I promise you, love, show you some moves that will make your wavy hair curl even more.”

Merissa stared in stunned silence as Christian disengaged himself from both Elizabeth and the interloper. “Lady Diana Fortescue, make yourself known to Elizabeth and Merissa Cassell,” he said smoothly.

Lady Diana acknowledged them with a smug smile. Elizabeth bobbed a curtsy, but Merissa could not bring herself to do more than nod her head. If this was a “lady”, then Merissa’s worst opinions of the nobility were proven true.

“Now then, Christian,” Lady Diana said, “I’ve met your tiresome little friends. It’s time you paid some attention to me. And I expect you to entertain me by some means more diverting than dancing.” She leaned forward and whispered in Christian’s ear and then ruffled his hair and laughed.

Christian’s normally languid countenance tensed. “Diana,” he said, “let’s go somewhere we can talk privately.”

“Yes, let’s do,” she cooed.

Merissa turned away in disgust. Although she’d known the idyll couldn’t last, she had not expected it to end this way, with such a blunt reminder of Christian’s licentious nature.

She took her sister’s hand and practically dragged her back into the ballroom. “I swear, Elizabeth, if you act timid or meek, I’ll pinch you. We’ve as much right to be here as anyone!”

“Oh, I see Richard,” Elizabeth said. “Thank heavens.”

Elizabeth made a beeline for her patient beau, who she wouldn’t marry until Papa no longer needed her to keep house. Merissa followed more slowly. At this moment, she was so angry she didn’t trust herself to carry on a civil conversation with any man!

She passed by a group of older women gathered at the edge of the dance floor and recognized them as members of the local gentry. One woman, who had her back turned toward Merissa, said in a low, haughty voice, “Did you see the Cassell girls? Whatever possessed the Northrups to invite them? Why, their gowns are at least five years out of date, and they have no manners at all. I’m certain His Lordship meant to be gracious, but really!”

Merissa wanted to throttle the woman but then realized the truth of her words. Tears stung her eyes. They should never have come. What was she thinking of? How could she have imagined herself transformed from plain, ordinary Merissa into someone who could interest a worldly earl?

Her turmoil intensified, and the rich food she’d eaten earlier threatened to make its way up from her stomach. Fresh air, she thought, she needed fresh air.

She started to approach Elizabeth and tell her they must leave, but then saw Richard with his hand on her sister’s arm and paused. Perhaps seeing his beloved in this setting would motivate the cowardly squire to go to the Reverend Mr. Cassell and insist that he let them wed. If there was a chance of such a miracle, Merissa would not interfere.

Leaving the ballroom, Merissa passed several footmen, and in the marble-floored entryway, the stone-faced butler. He stood up quickly. “Miss Cassell? Are you leaving? May I call your coach?”

“No, thank you,” Merissa said, “I merely intend to step outside and clear my head.”

“Would you care for a wrap?”

She gave him her warmest smile. “I’ll be only a moment.”

The huge walnut door closed behind her with a muffled click. Merissa took a deep breath and gazed out at the starlit night. She must get control of herself.

Her thoughts veered from fury to despair and back again. And all of it was Christian Faraday’s fault. If not for him, she would not be at this glittering assemblage. She would be home, safe in the dull, quiet world she knew so well.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the cold night air, and straightened her shoulders. As she’d told Elizabeth, they had as much a right to be here as anyone. Not only had they been invited, but warmly greeted by the earl and his wife.

“Coward,” she whispered vehemently. “What sort of disgusting milk-and-water miss are you? Do you mean to let a group of local busy-bodies and a painted strumpet from London scare you off?”

She took another deep breath, and then gave a little shiver. It was quite brisk out, and her thin dress afforded little protection. She glanced down, feeling her nipples pebble with the cold. Her gown might be old-fashioned, but she thought she looked pretty. And so did Christian. The expression on his face when he first saw her had been unmistakable.

The memory warmed her and gave her courage. Christian’s pleasure as he danced with her had not been feigned. As absurd as it seemed, Lord Bedlington must feel some sort of
tendre
for her.

Resolute, she turned and went into the mansion. The lanky butler bowed.

“You see,” she told him, “I only stayed out a moment.” He nodded gravely as she passed by. She moved down the well-lit hallway and paused at the doorway to the ballroom, searching for a familiar tall form. Although she spied her host, engaged in conversation with Elizabeth and Richard, there was no sign of Christian.

She turned away, frowning. Where could he be? Had he gone off with that awful woman and not returned yet? It hardly seemed possible that he would allow someone like that to monopolize him all evening.

But Lady Diana was a very aggressive creature. Perhaps he had been unable to get away. He was probably too much of a gentleman to snub the hussy completely.

A wild notion came to Merissa’s mind. She would find the missing pair and rescue Christian. That brazen London tart would find that this “countrified nobody” was more than a match for her!

The young footman watched her curiously as Merissa left the ballroom and walked purposefully down the hall. Although she had no idea where she was going, that did not deter her. She would not give up until she found Christian and wrested him from the clutches of that odious woman!

~ ~ ~

“La, Christian,” Diana put down her glass of wine and approached, moving so sensuously that Christian glanced uneasily around the book room. If anyone found them alone together, there’d be the devil to pay. “You’re not being fair,” she pouted. “All I’m asking is that you offer me what you shared with so many others.”

He shook his head. “I’m changing my ways. No more liaisons with married women. The truth is, I would never even have agreed to meet you alone if you hadn’t hinted that Honoria Averill was in trouble. Now, out with it—what’s happening between her and Anthony?”

“I won’t tell you.” Diana’s rouged lips formed a petulant
moi
. “Anyway, it’s nothing for you to worry over. Anthony will come around in time. Husbands always do.”

“But is it a matter of... that is, did Anthony find out she was... involved with someone?”

“Perhaps,” Diana answered airily. Then she put her hands on her generous hips. “Frankly, I’m tired of this subject. I’m the one here with you, and I could use a little attention.”

Christian gritted his teeth. Damn Diana! She wasn’t going to tell him what he needed to know until she got what she wanted. If only she had not mentioned “poor Honoria.” It conjured all sorts of unpleasant images in his mind. Anthony Averill had a nasty temper, and since the other guilty party in the affair—him—had left London, it seemed entirely possible that Anthony had directed his anger at his wife.

He tried again. “When you say Honoria was having difficulties, what did you mean? Are you implying Anthony threatened her?”

“What’s your interest in that bitch anyway? She’s surely not a better lay than me.” Diana raised her hands to her bodice and began fondling herself, stroking her nipples through the gossamer fabric of her gown. “Please, Christian,” she purred, “don’t be cruel to little Diana. You know what she wants. Don’t make her beg.” Her voice lowered to a husky moan.

Christian repressed the urge to tear his hair out in clumps. He could not take much more of this cat-and-mouse game. He’d been away from the assembly so long already that Merissa was probably mortally offended and would never speak to him again. And now Diana was moving in for the kill!

“Please, Christian.” Her eyes dilated to dark pools. Running her tongue over her lips, she smiled tremulously, then raised her hands to her shoulders and grasped the cap sleeves of her gown. With a triumphant tug, she pulled the bodice down.

Try as he might, Christian could not help staring. Her rouged nipples thrust out, lurid and swollen. “Gads, Diana! What if someone comes in?”