Emerald (Jewel Trilogy, Book 2) (39 page)

"Ah, Lady Haversham." Lady Carson snagged a pale, elfin woman by the arm. "May I present a guest of Lord Cainewood's, Lady Caithren. From Scotland," she added in a conspiratorial voice, as though that fact alone should be of significant interest.

"I'm glad of your acquaintance," Cait said again with a little curtsy. "I'm wondering if you've seen my brother, Adam—"

"If you'll excuse us," Jason interjected smoothly, "I've someone I need to see. Ladies." He nodded politely, took Caithren's arm, and dragged her all the way back to the entry hall, which was all but deserted now that the most-anticipated guests—Jason and Caithren, apparently—had arrived.

Pulling her into the shadows behind a large column, he gathered her into his arms. Before she could voice a protest, his mouth came down on hers, and anything she might have said was smothered by his lips.

Caithren's heart raced as his tongue plundered her mouth. She kissed him back with wild abandon. He truly was a changed man tonight, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know why.

She'd rather just enjoy it for now.

When he finally drew back, she stared at him, dumbfounded. Her knees felt like pudding, but his strong arms held her up when she would have slumped against the tapestried wall. "I've been wanting to do that since we got to London," he said.

"Oh, aye?" She blinked at him, confused. "You had ample opportunity in your carriage on the way across town. It took forever to negotiate the traffic."

"I had other things on my mind." His fingers traced her jaw, then he tapped the little black heart on her cheek and leaned to kiss her forehead. "Come, let's dance."

As quickly as he'd dragged her away from the ballroom, he pulled her back in. The musicians were playing a sedate tune, the melody accompanied by scrapes and taps of dancers' shoes and the soft swish of ladies' gowns as they traversed the polished-wood floor in an elegant configuration.

Caithren licked her lips and cast a worried glance at Jason. "I-I cannot dance."

He smiled down at her, prodding her closer to the dance floor with a hand at her back. "I seem to remember you dancing with the Gypsies."

"But not like this!" she exclaimed, tripping over the blasted high heels.

He caught her. "It's a simple pattern. I'll give you two minutes to watch. Two," he warned with mock severity.

The music was eight beats, and the dancers balanced on their toes. Short gliding steps, a change of balance, a pause every third and seventh beat. Cait thought she had it figured out—until suddenly the women ran around the men and they all did a little hop.

"I cannot tell what they're doing," she complained. Just then the dancers bowed and curtsied. "Anyway, it's over," she said with more than a little relief.

"Ah, but there will be another."

Following some discordant re-tuning, the musicians launched into a country dance, not so different from those Cait was used to at her village dances in Leslie. "This one I can do," she declared and let Jason swirl her into the crowd.

All her reservations melted away. It was heaven being in his arms, and it didn't even seem to bother him in front of all society.

Though the dance was energetic, she couldn't keep her eyes from his clean-shaven face. "You don't look like Ford."

"Ford?" They crossed arms and switched sides. "You have the most disconcerting habit of starting a conversation midstream. Where did that come from?"

"Lady Carson. She said you look like your brother."

"Ah." He twirled her around. "She referred to my other brother, Colin. And yes, I expect with my hair cut and without my mustache, we do look somewhat alike. Green eyes and black hair. He's always kept his shorter. Prefers convenience over fashion, in all things."

"I like him already." The music came to a close, and she curtsied. "What other siblings are you hiding?"

"Only a sister-in-law. Colin is married." He led her from the dance floor. "Her name is Amethyst, but we call her Amy."

"The woman who gave you the watch."

"That's right." Another country dance followed the first, and he swept her back out and into the double line, leaving her with the women while he stood across from her with the men. "Amy used to be a jeweler. Or rather, she still is a jeweler, but without a shop. Colin is building her a workshop at Greystone, their home."

"Greystone," she murmured, clapping her hands and then touching them to the women's on either side of her. She remembered him chuckling at seeing that name on an inn. "Your brother married a commoner?"

Coming closer, he smiled down at her. "We Chases don't play by the rules."

"I've noticed." The dance separated them for a moment before they came back together. "You certainly don't play backgammon by the rules."

"I'm not a cheater. If I'm ahead five matches, that's only proof of my skill."

"Ha!" Linking arms, they skipped in a circle. "You distracted me with your bare chest. That is hardly playing fair."

She was getting breathless by the time a portly gentleman tapped Jason on the shoulder. "May I claim the pleasure?" he asked.

Jason didn't look very happy. But he pulled Caithren from the dance and introduced her to the man, a Lord Berkeley.

"It's glad I am to make your acquaintance," Cait said. "And by any chance, have you seen my bro—"

"Beg pardon," Jason interrupted. "We must be off." And he propelled her back to the entry and the shadow of the post.

"Wait." With two hands on his chest, she stopped him when he would have kissed her again. "Why don't you want me to ask after my brother?"

"I only want to kiss you," he protested, drawing her close. His warm breath washed over her face, and she felt dizzy. "I don't know what's come over me, but I cannot keep my hands off you." To demonstrate, he ran them down her back, all the way to her bottom.

Her pulse sped up, but she wasn't going to fall for this seduction. "Do you think my head laces up the back?"

His hands froze on her. "Pardon?"

"Don't take me for a fool. You're trying to keep me from Adam, and I want to know why."

He caught her gaze with his. "I want only to be with you tonight. Besides, do you really think you'd fail to notice your brother were he here?"

He had a point. And when his lips captured hers, she was afraid he made that point completely. So much so that she was tempted to drag him down to the floor and make him follow through.

Oh, how she wanted that. One more time before she found Adam and headed back home.

The footman opened and closed the front door, admitting a new guest, but Caithren barely noticed the footsteps or low murmur of the servants' awed acknowledgments. Jason's tongue was tracing her mouth, his teeth were nibbling her lower lip. She wound her arms around his neck and twined her fingers in his thick hair.

"Cainewood, is that you?" The voice was deep, the words drawled and amused. "Od's fish, I cannot wait to see the lady who's taken your fancy."

Caithren pulled away and stared up at a tall, dark stranger. Heat flooded her cheeks, and arousal and embarrassment made her feel weak as a newborn bairn.

Jason turned her to face the man square on.

"Egads," the man said. "What happened to your hair and face?"

"A long story, best told another time. Sire, this is Caithren Leslie." The fact that he hadn't called her by the invented Lady title was not lost on Cait, even in her confused state. "Caithren, King Charles."

King Charles?
She felt the blood drain from her face. Jason supported her with one steady arm. "It-it's pleased I am to make your acquaintance," she said by rote. She caught herself before reciting the "have you seen my brother" part. "Your Majesty," she added instead with a tremulous smile.

The king reached down to take her hand and raise it to his lips for a kiss. His eyes burned into hers, a sensual, compelling black. "A pleasure to meet you, my dear. The lady who captures Cainewood's heart is a special one, indeed."

He was still holding her hand. Her heart was beating like it wished to escape her chest. She wanted to drop into the intricate parquet floor. Which was ridiculous. He was but a man.

"Love's wan e'e and ower deef," she blethered.

The king dropped her hand. "Pardon?"

"Caithren likes to quote her mother's favorite sayings," Jason explained. "Scottish wisdom."

"I'm of Scottish descent, but sorely lacking in wisdom." In a gesture that reminded her of Jason, Charles stroked his thin mustache. "And this saying means…?"

"Love is almost blind and a bit deaf," Cait interpreted.

With that, he threw back his head and laughed, a great roar that all but rattled the enormous chandelier overhead.

"She's a gem," he told Jason. Peering over their shoulders, he frowned. "Od's fish, Barbara and Frances are at it again. I'd best be off." And he made his way toward the ballroom, a commanding figure in dark red velvet trimmed with some sort of fur instead of ribbons.

Cait all but collapsed against Jason's chest. "Barbara and Frances?" she asked weakly.

"His two mistresses of the moment." When she looked up at him in shock, he just laughed. "Come along, I think you could do with some wine." He guided her down the hall toward the refreshment room.

"I didn't mean to imply there was love—I mean, that you—that line just popped into my head, and—"

"Think nothing of it."

She halted in her tracks and turned to confront him. "And why didn't you tell me the
king
might be here? He must've thought I was sodie-heid"—at the look on his face, she translated—"feather-brained, aye?"

"Kendra did say Charles would be in attendance." He led her to a table and picked up a cup. "If you'll remember."

Caithren wracked her brain while he handed her the cup and lifted a gigantic, solid silver ladle that must have weighed ten pounds if it were an ounce. "Aye, that is exactly what she said.
Charles
would be in attendance. As though he were a personal friend of the family or some such—"

"He is."

She dropped the cup, jumping back as it splashed and rolled under the table.

"We spent years together with him in exile, after the Civil War. In abject poverty, I might add. The Restoration restored more than Charles's throne—he saw our property restored as well. And he settled titles on my two younger brothers, who otherwise would have—"

"How was I supposed to know such a thing, you daftie? The longer I'm around you, the more confused I get." She looked down. "And now I've gone and ruined Lady Kendra's fancy gold shoes."

Jason only smiled. "So I'll buy her another pair or three." He filled a second cup and curled her fingers around it. "Here. Drink."

Served from an enormous silver punch bowl shaped like a swan, the wine was spiced and delicious. She drank two cups of it, danced with Jason, then drank another. Her eyes never strayed too far from King Charles. But he didn't stay long. When he left, she sagged against Jason in something akin to relief, tempered with a healthy dose of awe.

She had actually attended the same ball as King Charles. Cameron wasn't going to believe it.

Jason introduced her to Lady Castlemaine and Lord Arlington and the Duke of Buckingham. Everyone she'd ever heard of seemed to be here.

Everyone but Adam.

She couldn't bring herself to be too sorry, though. Much as she wanted to see Adam and ask him to deed her Leslie, this night was too magical to really wish such mundane matters would intrude.

Jason followed her when she staggered off the dance floor and over to a wall, leaning against the mantel of one of the immense fireplaces that flanked either end of the ballroom. They weren't lit tonight, which was a good thing, because the chamber was overly warm as it was.

A giddy little giggle bubbled out as she looked up at Jason. Surely no one in the room was as handsome as he. He wore a dark green velvet suit that brought out his eyes, and his own glossy black hair skimmed his shoulders. The hair that she'd cut. She'd cut the hair of a marquess.

She giggled again at the memory. "Will you fetch me another cup of wine?"

"I think you're tipsy enough as it is," he responded with a good-natured grin.

Now that he mentioned it, her head
was
reeling a wee bit—not that she'd admit it. "It's only this glorious night. I will remember it forever, my lord."

"I won't have you start 'my lording' me now. Not after what we've shared between us."

The thought of what they'd shared made her blush. "The wine? Please?"

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "As you wish. But we'll get you something to eat as well."

Jason guided Cait back to the refreshment room and handed her a knot biscuit. She nibbled on the braided, anise-flavored bread while he wandered down the buffet table, loading a plate with light fare: asparagus, cubed cheese, an assortment of luscious fruits. Handing her the plate, he filled two more cups with the heady spiced wine.

Cait looked around for two open seats.

"I've another idea." Jason inclined his head toward the door. "Come along." Munching a cube of cheese, he led her back through the ballroom and out into the formal garden.

Burning torches were set about. Cait breathed deep of the night air, refreshingly cool compared to inside. Here and there a couple strolled the garden paths, but mostly it was quiet and serene.

She followed him out beyond the bright light of the torches, where he sat himself on a low brick wall. Handing her a cup, he took the plate from her and set it down.

"We cannot see out here," she complained, seating herself on the other side of the plate.

"Ah, but we cannot be seen, either." He plucked a raspberry from a small pile and popped it into his mouth. "Your eyes will adjust."

"They're adjusting already," she said, feeling lightheaded. The hand holding her cup was trembling a little, but she raised it and took a sip.

He selected another raspberry and brought it to her lips, running it back and forth across her mouth before he slipped it inside. Sweetness burst on her tongue as she bit into it. He watched her swallow, then leaned across the plate to take her lips in a gentle kiss.