Midnight Bride (32 page)

When she turned and would have begun to walk back to the doors, he
stopped,
his hands still over hers. She stopped, too, turning back to him in surprise. "Dunstan?" His lips found hers and his arms pulled her tightly against him. Two kisses. That was all. Then he released her and slipped her hand back through his arm as though nothing had happened. He walked her back to the supper room and filled a plate for her. The happy smile in his eyes was the only sign Dunstan gave of what had happened.

Elizabeth spent the supper hour picking at her food, her eyes rarely leaving his face. Her heart beat faster as she watched him watch her. "I do not know what Lord Dunstan is doing," Louisa
Beckworth
told Lady
Ramsburg
later, "but Elizabeth is enthralled."

"But will her enchantment lead to marriage?" Lady
Ramsburg
wanted to know. They glanced at Dunstan, now standing talking to Lord Hathaway and Charles, and then at Elizabeth, dancing with the major. When they looked back at Dunstan, his eyes were fixed on Elizabeth. Louisa
Beckworth
and Lady
Ramsburg
exchanged glances and sighed happily.

Before long, everyone in Brighton was wondering the same thing. The gentlemen placed their bets, noting that Lord Dunstan never had to worry about a place on Miss
Beckworth's
card. As invitations were sent, each hostess realized that if she wanted one of them to be present, the entire party must be included or no one would come. For the first time in her life totally oblivious to the interest of the
ton,
Elizabeth enjoyed herself. Unlike her Seasons when her stepmother and father had expected her to select a husband, she lived for the moment, taking each compliment in stride, discounting the praises of her admirers. They as well as she knew that she was not interested in anything but a light flirtation. Therefore, she was safe, or as safe as any bachelor could imagine. Only with Dunstan was she different.

One reason for the difference was Dunstan him
self. After that evening on the terrace, Elizabeth had expected him to change, but he had not. The next morning he was punctual as he called to take her riding. "Good morning, Elizabeth," he said quietly. Although she was never certain when she had granted him the right, he had begun to call her by her first name. But she did not correct him.

"Good morning, Lord Dunstan." Her eyelashes fluttered down over her eyes, this morning a clear green because of the jade green riding habit she wore. She settled her black beaver top hat more firmly on her curls and smiled up at him. He tossed her into the saddle and checked her stirrup. Satisfied that she was secure, he mounted his own horse. Cantering until they reached the long stretch of beach, neither said much. As soon as they reached the open sand, Elizabeth leaned forward, patting her horse's neck. "A gallop, my lord?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"A gallop.
And the winner may choose the prize," he said, his eyes on her mouth. She smiled, bending low on her horse's neck. They raced neck and neck until slowly Dunstan's large stallion began to outpace Elizabeth's mare. Recognizing defeat, Elizabeth pulled up, walking her horse slowly to allow her to cool down.

Soon Dunstan was beside her. "What prize will you claim, my lord?" she asked, just a hint of wonder and fear in her voice.

Before he could answer her, a loud hello echoed down the beach. "Mama said you had gone out for a ride, Elizabeth," her brother said with a smile. "I was certain you would not mind if we rode with you." He gestured to the three officers who had accompanied him.

Elizabeth and Dunstan exchanged one glance,
and then he said in a voice that did not reveal his disappointment, "We are happy to have you join us, gentlemen." Aware of a discontent she could not name, Elizabeth added her welcome to his. Together the party rode back up the beach to Brighton.

Later that evening as they enjoyed a quiet evening at home, Elizabeth and Dunstan watched as Lord and Lady
Ramsburg
played cards against Charles and Louisa. Then Dunstan asked, "Would you like to walk about the garden?"

Elizabeth glanced outside to the lingering twilight and nodded. For a few minutes they walked along the paths between the flowering plants, simply enjoying the night air. "I enjoyed our gallop today," Dunstan said as though he had just thought of it.

"When I am in town, I miss my rides. I wonder why the
ton
frowns on ladies
galloping?
" Elizabeth stopped to pull a wilting rose from its stem, scattering the petals of the pink rose along the path.

"Not all ladies are as accomplished riders as you," Dunstan said quietly. He too stopped and watched her inspect the roses carefully as though she were looking for something of importance. The late twilight was just fading, and the moon had not yet come up. The air was heavy with the sweet smell of flowers. The lengthening shadows hid her face and made alluring hollows on her neck.

She looked up, her eyes laughing. "Accomplished? As I remember, sir, you are the accomplished rider. You won."

"So I did." Dunstan allowed just a hint of surprise to echo through his voice. Then his voice grew deeper. "I do not think I collected my prize."

She looked up in surprise. He took a step closer, his blue eyes laughing down at her. He paused for a moment as if giving her a chance to run away. She stood her ground. He took a step closer. Soon he was close enough to put his arms around her. Once again he waited for her to protest. When she did not, he pulled her close to him, letting her hear the racing of his heart. She pulled back slightly and tilted her head back so that she could see him. The temptation was more than he could bear. Slowly he lowered his head, his lips slightly parted. Then he kissed her, softly at first and then deeply, his tongue caressing her lips, urging them to open for him. His arms held her tightly against him; the thin layers of material between them did little to dull the fever in their blood. He pulled away, noting with satisfaction the way her body followed his as if protesting his departure.

Finally they stood alone once again. As he had before, he tucked her hand back into his arm and walked back into the house. If the others noticed the slightly dazed look on her face or the crumpled cravat he wore, they did not mention it.

Each time Dunstan took her into the garden or walked with her along a terrace, kissed her and then let her go, Elizabeth yearned for more of his kisses. Her dreams were vignettes of that morning so many days ago. But this time she did not kick him out of bed. She would awake, her body aching for the caresses that she had dreamed of. She would dress for the evening, longing for the moment when he would take her arm and lead her from the room to the darkness outside.

Dunstan too lived for those moments, ached for her in a way he had never felt before. Often he walked alone for hours trying to free
himself
of her spell. Then he recognized what he had to do. When the
agony of letting her go
grew too strong,

Dunstan
stopped kissing her, walking with her in the garden late in the evening. More and more he turned his attention to the other ladies. Ashamed of herself and yet angry, Elizabeth began to feel uneasy, restless.

"Are you angry with me?" she finally asked one evening while they were dancing.

"No." He looked down at her, wishing he understood what she was thinking. He longed to run his fingers through the curls clustering about her face.

"Oh." The silence between them grew. As the music finished, she let him walk her back to where her cousin was seated. Louisa, her face flushed with anger, wielded her fan in short, jerky strokes. Catching sight of her cousin's face, Elizabeth hurried to her side, "What is wrong?" she said anxiously.

Louisa glanced around as if expecting other than the pair of them to be close at hand. "My dear, the most horrible thing has happened," she said in accents of doom.

"Is Mama ill? Is Charles hurt?" Elizabeth sat down beside her, patting her hand. "Do tell me."

Louisa glanced up to see Charles approaching, his face as dark as a thundercloud. "You tell her," she demanded, dabbing at her face with her scrap of lace handkerchief.

"Tell me what?" Elizabeth asked so forcefully that a lady nearby looked up startled
,.
Elizabeth blushed, but she asked again, "Tell me what?"

"Edgerton has returned," Charles
said,
his mouth a straight line. "He asked our hostess to point you out in case you had changed."

"Who?"
Elizabeth asked, more to give
herself
time than because she had not heard the first time. Dunstan's face now wore a frown that was darker than Charles's.

"Your former
fiancé.
Apparently someone wrote him that you were pining away for love of him. He has decided to offer for you once again," Charles
said,
his voice flat with anger. Elizabeth could only stare at her brother, her eyes wide.

"Here he comes," Dunstan said. His voice like his face was cold and hard. He straightened up, looking about the room for Lady
Ramsburg
. He did not find the lady, but he did catch the eye of Lord Hathaway, who cut his conversation short and walked across the room, moving more rapidly than he appeared to be.

"Elizabeth, my dear.
How lovely you look," Lord Edgerton said, picking up her hand and kissing the palm. Elizabeth resisted the impulse to wipe it off. She said nothing. "Still having trouble with names, Elizabeth?" he asked, smiling down at her. He made his bow to Louisa, who ignored him. "I was certain you would remember mine. We shared so much together."

Charles could bear no more. "Edgerton," he said coolly. "What a surprise to see you in England once more. How did you manage it? Your
family buy
the other man's family off?"

The barb was so close to the truth that Edgerton flushed. He swung around quickly, half expecting to see the young boy that Charles had been when he left. At the sight of those hard, cold eyes and those shoulders, he straightened up, his eyes flashing angrily. He glared at both Charles and Dunstan and then turned back to Elizabeth.

With Edgerton's attention focused on Dunstan, he had not seen Lord Hathaway arrive. He swung back only to watch Elizabeth walk to the center of the ballroom on the captain's arm. "Who is he?" he
asked,
his eyes angry. He watched as Elizabeth laughed at something the tall redhead had said. His mouth narrowed to a fine line.

Louisa smiled. "Just one of Elizabeth's suitors," she explained. "Isn't it wonderful that she is finally recovering from the shock of your father's death, dear boy?" she asked Charles. He nodded, his eyes still fixed on Edgerton's face. "And we owe it all to Lord Dunstan." She smiled up at Dunstan and patted his arm affectionately.

"Dunstan. I knew a Lord Dunstan seven years ago. What happened to him?" Edgerton
asked,
a bite to his voice. The years of hard living showed in every line of his face.

"He is dead," Dunstan said bluntly. He and Charles exchanged glances. Together they searched the floor for Elizabeth's next partner, determined that Edgerton would have no chance with her that night.