Never Marry a Stranger (16 page)

W
hen Matthew entered the ballroom with Emily on his arm, he saw every pair of eyes turn toward them. Thousands of candles glowed above them in their globe lamps, artificial roses festooned every column, but none of it was as beautiful as Emily, so poised, so serene as she stood at his side.

Her gown was a demure navy blue velvet. He imagined her intention on purchasing it had been to remain unnoticed. But she didn’t seem to realize that the dark color set off her pale skin, and made her champagne blond hair shine like a precious metal. The bodice was cut straight across, showing the fine bones of her shoulders and just the beginning swells of her breasts, making a man only think of seeing the rest. Her chin was lifted and a faint smile curved her sweet lips. But her face was still pale. Surely she knew all these people, so why should she be nervous?

From the moment of their arrival they were sur
rounded by eager guests, who—briefly—deserted the receiving line in front of the duke. Emily never left his side, helping him by greeting people by name if he didn’t do so immediately. For at least an hour it was a blur of becoming reacquainted, of hugs and curtsies and bows, and over it all, well wishes for his renewed marriage to their “dear Emily.”

He only wanted to call her “lover.” He met her gaze often and smiled knowingly, until he made her blush each time.

They led the quadrille at the upper end of the ballroom, the place of honor. When he performed the steps perfectly, Emily beamed at him. Instead of pale, she now seemed quite animated, almost too excited. Was she anticipating the end of the evening as much as he was?

But it was during the waltz where he tried to make her see that the two of them were all that mattered. Though they began the dance at the prescribed distance apart, he felt like he was falling into her eyes as they began to whirl around the ballroom. He liked the strength in her back as she moved, and the confidence of her hand in his. She was a true partner, not a decorative doll to be led about. Without realizing it, he pulled her closer through the turns, then allowed their thighs to brush. Though Emily blushed, she never stopped looking at him. When his thigh dipped between hers, her eyes became dreamy
and her pink lips parted. He almost kissed her right in front of everyone.

Only when the music ended did he realize that they’d become the center of attention. Most of the dancers had retreated to the edge of the floor. Now everyone applauded, and he bowed as Emily swept into a deep curtsy. His family was clustered together, and he saw many of them wiping their eyes. Then he looked down at Emily, so beautiful, so willing, and only let himself think of the coming night in her arms. He kissed her gloved hand and led her to the refreshment room that opened off the ballroom.

After handing her a glass of champagne, he clinked his own to hers. “Be glad you’re not one of the unmarried girls being put on display; otherwise you’d have to fortify yourself as best as you were able with lemonade.”

“There’s nothing wrong with lemonade,” she murmured, looking out over the crowd as they energetically danced a daring polka.

They were near a bank of exotic flowers from the Madingley greenhouses, and he used their edge of concealment to put a hand on Emily’s waist. She gave a little start but did not cease studying the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” he asked, letting his fingers drift down over her hip.

She took a deep sip of her champagne. “No.”

He loved how with just a touch he could affect her.

“There is Lady Rosa,” she said abruptly.

He sighed. He did not want to be thinking of his mother when he was seducing his wife.

“She is like a butterfly among them,” Emily continued softly, a fond smile on her lips.

“A butterfly?” he echoed with amusement.

But he found himself watching Lady Rosa as she floated from couple to group, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke, her smile glowing. Professor Leland remained with the other members of the family, but Matthew saw him watching his wife, his expression one of fond contentment.

“Your father seldom accompanies your mother as she speaks to people,” Emily said, her head tilted as she studied them.

Matthew glanced at her. “What?”

“Haven’t you noticed their deliberate separation? He watches her, but they remain apart when they socialize at dances. Being a widow”—she laughed up at him—“and a stranger in Society, I didn’t have the opportunity to dance as much, so I had time to observe them.”

“What about all your suitors?” he asked, admitting to himself how jealous he was that other men had spent more time with her than he had.

She smiled and batted her lashes coquettishly. “There were only a few of them. They could not
take up a whole evening of dancing.” She looked back across the ballroom floor at Lady Rosa and spoke softly. “Twenty years have passed since the scandal that shook the trust in their marriage. Your father might not admit it, but he deliberately hangs back and lets her socialize as she wishes. I think he believes he’s trying to help, but he’s wrong. They’re both worried too much about how others feel about the scandal in their past.”

Hadn’t that been his own problem? Matthew mused. He’d always cared too much what others thought. But he’d gotten over it. Perhaps his parents would do the same.

And then he exchanged a surprised glance with Emily, for the professor was leading Lady Rosa onto the dance floor.

“They don’t usually dance together,” Emily said, eyes wide.

“I know.”

Then Emily and Matthew were separated by the duke and duchess, who each claimed the next dance. When it was over, Matthew returned Abigail to her husband, who was speaking to Emily.

Already he was tired of sharing her, although the night was young and the orchestra hadn’t even halted for a supper announcement yet. He smiled at Christopher, and without a word took Emily’s hand and led her away.

While Christopher laughed, Emily restrained
herself, her eyes alight. “But I was talking to your cousin,” she said to Matthew.

“And I’m finding myself overheated from all this dancing. Let’s go out on the terrace.”

On an autumn night, the glass doors were thrown wide open to allow air to bathe the dancers. Many other couples strolled in the torchlit darkness. The music faded a bit, no longer assaulting their ears. Matthew led her to the balustrade, where they could look out over the gardens. They were lit with globe lamps hung from the trees along the paths, but he did not see many people taking advantage of the privacy, which fit in well with his plans.

When he tried to pull Emily toward the stairs, she resisted. “Why can’t we stay here?”

“It’s too public,” he said. He leaned closer. “And I’m going to put my hands on you in a very inappropriate manner for public display.”

Her mouth sagged open and her eyes glazed over as the torches reflected in them. Then she seemed to shake herself.

“I’ll be too cold,” she protested.

“I’ll keep you warm.” He tugged again, and she took several hesitant steps until they reached the top of the great stone staircase that flowed wider and wider until it reached the ground.

“So you’d like me to carry you?” he asked.

She gave him a strained smile, and Matthew realized that she was only humoring him.

He took both her hands. “You don’t wish to be alone with me?”

She squeezed his hands. “It’s just…this night is about you, and if we go out there in the dark, we’ll come back disheveled. I don’t wish to embarrass your family.”

“I think they’ll believe it’s about time.”

But he relented, instead drawing her farther down the terrace, where the torches ended and the shadows deepened. She gladly came into his arms, raising herself on her toes to kiss him. Her willing warmth was a seduction itself, and he lost himself in the sweet way her tongue explored his mouth, then met his. She’d learned quickly what pleased him, and he thought of how much more he wanted to share with her.

“Soon,” he whispered against her mouth.

Waiting proved the hardest, for at last he had to take her back inside. Emily stopped before him so suddenly that he ran into her back.

“Is something wrong?”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Do you see Susanna?”

It was difficult for him to think of anyone but Emily, but at last his mind refocused and he remembered his sister and his efforts to help her find happiness. Feeling guilty, he followed Emily’s gaze and saw Susanna, several gentlemen in attendance.

“Besides Peter, I recognize those men,” Matthew said. “They attended our picnic yesterday.”

“You should feel eminently successful.”

Although they could not hear the conversation, they could see Susanna looking between the men, speaking politely but with little animation. Gradually, Matthew realized that she wasn’t enjoying herself.

“Damn,” he murmured softly.

Emily reached behind her to touch his arm. “Give her time. This is all overwhelming.”

“How overwhelming can it be for a twenty-six-year-old who was born into the household of a duke?”

Emily said nothing, and they continued to watch. Two of the gentlemen left, leaving Peter Derby, who spoke to Susanna, his face composed and serious. Another man approached, and Peter displayed a look of brief impatience before smiling politely. Susanna continued to cast glances at Peter even as she spoke with the newcomer.

Then it was just Peter and Susanna, and they left the ballroom together.

“Are we supposed to be happy with this result?” Emily asked dubiously.

“I don’t know. If it were me in my more repressed days, and I was able to be alone with a woman, I would always behave like a gentleman.”

Her voice sounded subtly amused as she said, “But now?”

“We should go to Susanna.”

Though she was obviously holding back laughter, it soon faded from her face as they made their way through the crowd and away from the ballroom. The trouble was, Susanna could have gone with Peter—anywhere.

Emily seemed to read his mind. “Besides sketching in the laboratory—where she would hardly take a man—she enjoys painting in the conservatory.”

“Let’s go.”

As they entered the library, the conservatory doors on the far side of the room slammed open and Peter walked out, looking furious.

Matthew felt his gut tighten, his hands ball into fists. What had happened with Susanna?

Emily again touched his arm, quickly whispering, “They weren’t alone together for long.”

A brief look of anger and frustration twisted Peter’s expression when he saw Emily. It faded to impassivity as he nodded to Matthew.

Though Matthew wanted to confront Peter, he let him go. He’d seen how pinched and white Emily’s face had become just before she increased her step to enter the conservatory. Good God, could the man hold a grudge against Emily just because he had returned from the dead to squash his courtship?

They found Susanna standing near the central fountain, wiping away tears.

“What happened?” Matthew demanded.

She groaned and looked away. “Nothing happened,” she snapped. “And that’s the problem.”

Matthew sent a bewildered stare at Emily, who took hold of his sister’s shoulders.

“Susanna, tell me,” Emily said quietly.

“I’m trying to do what you both want!” she said to Emily, then repeated it as she faced Matthew. “What else do you want me to do? But I feel—nothing! These men now gather around me—I’m not different, you know. I only stopped wearing my spectacles and moved away from the wall. It was enough to make them remember I’m related to a duke,” she said bitterly.

“That’s not true,” Matthew said.

“And don’t forget how blind men can be,” Emily said, her voice soothing.

“Excuse me?” Matthew was hoping to lighten the mood.

The women ignored him.

“Sometimes they only see what’s obviously in front of them,” Emily continued. “And now they see you.”

Susanna found a handkerchief in her sleeve and blew her nose. “What’s wrong with me? Other girls go on and on about the excitement of a man looking at them, but I never feel that way, not even with Mr. Derby, who I once thought I cared for a great deal.”

“Then he’s not the right man,” Emily insisted. “You can’t find him in a week’s time, Susanna.”

Susanna hugged herself, looking miserable. “I just want my old life.”

“It was safe, wasn’t it?” Emily spoke matter-of-factly.

Matthew glanced at her in surprise.

“No risk involved,” Emily continued.

And then she looked at Matthew, and he couldn’t look away. He and Emily were both drawn to risks, powerfully attracted to them. It crackled between them so much he could almost let himself be consumed—if he weren’t so aware of his sister’s pain.

“That’s not fair,” Susanna murmured.

Emily nodded. “Perhaps not. But it’s the truth. How will you know if you can find happiness unless you risk everything?”

Susanna looked between them, and whatever she saw made her take a deep breath, even as her shoulders sagged. “Very well, I’ll keep trying to find someone who intrigues me.”

“Good,” Matthew said firmly. “The right man is out there.”

She gave a faint smile. “If
you
could find the right woman, then there’s hope for me.”

Emily chuckled while Matthew pretended to sputter a protest.

He was leading the two women into the ballroom
just as supper was announced. He steered them to the dining room and adjoining drawing rooms, where tables overflowed with food, gold plate glistened in sumptuous displays, and people stood about as they ate and talked. Susanna, composed once again, left them to join several of the young women she’d painted with at the picnic.

When Matthew went to fill Emily a plate, he returned to find her talking to someone he recognized well. Miss Sanborn was a woman he’d once flirted with, coming close to a courtship but not quite, because he’d considered himself far too young to settle on one woman.

She was beautiful, with her dark hair and flawless skin, he thought, as he paused before approaching them. He remembered her as being rather free with her affection, a little too loud, a little too in love with Society’s entertainments. He realized that he would much rather be married to Emily, quietly intelligent, hardworking, yet strong-willed enough to do what she had to in order to survive.