Tender Torment (25 page)

The ballroom presented a vision of fairytale loveliness. Pink velvet draperies fringed with silver tassels, walls flecked
with pink and white wallpaper, mirrors reflecting crystal chandeliers and silver sconces—all of the appointments delighted
the eyes of the admiring guests.

As he promised, the earl led Meg out in a quadrille while the crowd of onlookers admired. She was a pretty minx, he observed,
in her high-waisted white gown of tulle and pink lacing. Yes, her provocative figure and haughty smile could be a serious
temptation to any man. Although he pitied the poor fool who would end up being her husband, the earl was confident that it
wouldn’t be that lecher, Alden.

When the first set had ended, Straeford was not at all surprised to find Meg immediately surrounded by a swarm of young bucks
eager for her hand. Relinquishing his charge, the Earl was about to make a quick exit for the card room when Lady Maxwell
cornered him with the pointed suggestion that protocol demanded that he dance
with his wife. A frown crossed his face and then, much to her surprise, he set off obediently in search of Marisa. The grand
old lady’s eyes followed him across the crowded room as he nodded casually and directed a few carefully chosen remarks to
the dignitaries and acquaintances he brushed by. Lady Maxwell felt enormous pride in this complicated but handsome grandson
of hers. When his mood permitted, he could be charming, and this was clearly one of those occasions. His dress for this evening
emphasized his natural nobility and refinement. Tonight he was clad in black, except for his green silk waistcoat, and he
wore a white frilled shirt with an intricately folded jabot that was punctuated with an emerald stickpin. He wears his title
well, Lady Maxwell mused.

Finally, he found the countess conversing animatedly with Lord and Lady Claridge at the far end of the room. After a polite
exchange of pleasantries, the musicians obligingly struck up a waltz, and Straeford used the cue to edge his wife away.

“You’ll excuse us, I’m sure,” he said to the Claridges, “but I do believe my wife has promised me this waltz.” Marisa blinked
at the unexpected request, but recovered quickly enough to allow herself to be led to the dance floor.

Straeford swept her silently about the floor and observed the light grow in her eyes as she relaxed in the security of his
arms and her body swayed gracefully in unison with his. Her gown of sapphire blue emphasized the deep blue of her eyes. Her
dress was edged in diamante and banded tightly under her bosom so that long, sweeping folds of silk fell dramatically to her
silver-sandaled feet. A diamond pendant hung low and nestled disturbingly between her breasts. She was stunningly beautiful,
far more beautiful than Meg could ever be, he realized.

His arm tightened about her waist, and his cheek rested gently against hers. A captivating fragrance emanated from about her
neck, and he found himself murmuring softly, “You’re absolutely breathtaking, my dear… beautiful.”

Marisa raised her eyes to meet his and found her
self spellbound. His green eyes gave off a glow she had not seen before, and now she closed hers dreamily as the two of them
continued to whirl about the floor in a wondrous vortex. The light from the crystal chandeliers shimmered against the silver-fringed
drapes as they floated about the room in cadence to the soft music, their senses mutually submerged in the magic of this moment.

Again the earl danced with his countess to the strains of the musicians’ violins, and when a brief intermission was announced
they both sighed in disappointment. It had been exhilarating and neither of them wanted to stop. For a time, however, Marisa
seated herself in a white tufted chair at the edge of the dance floor, content to have the earl at her side. When she was
quickly encircled by guests, Straeford removed himself for a breath of fresh air.

The night was cool, and a soft spring breeze rustled pleasantly across the terrace. Straeford drew in some air and exhaled
slowly. His thoughts were still focused on the glowing feelings that lingered from the dance, but a faint and indistinct sound
somewhere below the terrace distracted his attention. As he descended into the garden, he heard a woman’s voice more clearly.
And then, when a man spoke, the earl knew they were both familiar to him. It was Meg Loftus in the arms of Ted Alden, and
the sight of the two of them locked in each other’s arms was quite enough to take the earl completely out of humor. Why, this
rounder’s philanderings were a direct insult to Straeford’s family and, quite conceivably, a scandal could result if it weren’t
halted immediately. The earl strode up to them and let out a sarcastic laugh that forced them to part abruptly.

“Straeford!” Alden frowned, adjusting his disheveled neckcloth with an embarrassed look on his face.

“So the little minx has trapped you after all?”

“I beg your pardon? What do you mean by that remark?” Alden demanded.

“Well, why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about,” Meg said in lame defense.

“Oh, don’t you, miss?” Straeford sneered.

“No, I don’t! Come, Ted, I think we should get back to the party. I do believe my brother-in-law is foxed.”

“He doesn’t appear that way to me,” Alden said under his breath. He was bothered by the earl’s inference and ready to stand
his ground for the moment. “See here, Straeford, just what are you getting at?”

“I am getting at the question of when you and my sister-in-law plan to announce your betrothal.”

“What! Now just one minute! A kiss in the garden…” Alden faltered, trying to complete his sentence diplomatically, “… Well,
that doesn’t signify any such thing.”

Meg waxed silent following his weak reply, but Straeford probed further with a vengeance. “Are you telling me that my family’s
honor is so lightly taken?”

“Of course not… certainly not.” Alden sensed that the earl’s incendiary temper had been aroused, and the possibility of a
duel between them over this matter flashed across his mind and forced him to couch his reply in guarded language. Of course,
he had no intention of wedding a chit so free with her kisses.

“Look here, I didn’t mean to… uh… take liberties, and I apologize to the… uh… young lady here if I misled her in any way.”
Alden dispensed an ingratiating gesture in her direction. “I… I was simply overcome with her beauty… just lost my head. Never
meant any insult to Miss Loftus. I’m sure you understand, Straeford.”

“Yes, I understand exactly. And I’m certain there will be no repetition of this in the future. I can rely on that now, can’t
I?”

“Oh, but of course. Yes, yes indeed,” Alden replied penitently. “And now if you’ll excuse me.” He skirted around Straeford
in an attempt to exit quickly and without further humiliation. But Meg would not permit it.

“Coward!” she yelled, flinging her reticule at Alden’s retreating back and causing him to stumble. Straeford laughed derisively,
but Meg shared little of his humor. “You interfering busybody! You sniggering, pompous…”

Before she could finish the earl’s hands reached out to clench both of her arms with a rock-hard grip. For
almost a full minute he shook her violently, and Meg gasped from shock and fright. She thought for certain that he had completely
lost control, but finally he stopped to warn her once more about her flirtation with Alden.

“Do you think I’m going to permit some conniving little shrew such as yourself to plunge us all into a scandal?”

“Scandal? I could have married him!”

“Now listen to me. Don’t delude yourself for one more minute. You’re nothing but a spoiled brat peddling her wares for the
first time to, of all people, an accomplished womanizer. Why, you fool! You gullible little wench! Did you really think for
one moment that Alden had succumbed to you? Hah! How laughable! Why, he’s managed to escape the wedding noose more years than
you’ve lived.”

“I… I don’t believe you! You’re lying. And you’re jealous, too.” Meg tried to wriggle free of his painful grip.

“Jealous?”

“Yes, jealous. Your actions tonight prove that to me. You’re really sorry that you didn’t choose me instead of my sister.
That’s the real truth, isn’t it?”

Straeford’s eyes turned to steel. He released his grip abruptly, causing her to reel backward. “You conceited little bitch!”

“Yes. Go ahead. Rail at me all you like, your lordship. But I’ve seen you watching me. Giving me that sidelong look now and
then. Why don’t you admit it? You made a mistake and now you’re sorry.”

“Even if that were true, just what difference could that possibly make now?”

Meg heard only the first part of his statement and threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Justin, if only you had chosen me. I
could have given you everything you ever wanted in a woman.”

“And what might that be, my dear, dear Meg?” he asked, a ruthless smile playing about his lips.

“This!” Meg pulled his head down to meet hers and kissed him boldly. She had not anticipated that his lips in turn would brutally
clamp hard on hers and his arms
would tighten like manacles about her small frame, holding her immobile until she felt she could no longer breathe. Groaning,
then struggling ineffectually to release herself, she felt faint. Suddenly he thrust her away from him, and Meg found herself
staggering toward a stone pedestal, gasping for air. As she turned to face him, she raised the back of her hand to her lips,
her earlier insolence now entirely replaced by fear. Straeford’s eyes had an ominous look as he hovered over her.

“Shall I take you here in the garden, my dear? What do you say to that?” He moved threateningly toward her, and Meg let out
a screech. Flailing her arms wildly, she took to her heels and scrambled out of the garden, Straeford’s mocking laugh echoing
in her ears.

As soon as Meg re-entered the ballroom, Marisa knew that something was seriously wrong, and she whisked her misty-eyed sister
off to the morning room for a quiet tête-à-tête.

“What ever is the matter, dear?” Marisa coaxed. “You can tell me.”

“Your… husband,” she sobbed. “He’s a brute… a monster.”

“Meg! What are you talking about? What has Justin done to cause this?” Marisa was both frightened and angered by her sister’s
unexpected outburst.

“Oh, Marisa, I didn’t know… he was so… so terrible! You poor thing! Married to that incorrigible…”

“Meg!” Marisa demanded, her patience now taxed. “For heaven’s sake, tell me what happened.”

“I taught her a damn good lesson. That’s what happened.” The sharp rejoinder came from the open door. Straeford sauntered
into the room, a look of contempt undisguised on his face. Meg wailed and darted behind Marisa.

“Don’t let him touch me!”

“Touch you?” he scorned. “Why, I’d rather pet a viper!”

“Justin!” Marisa was totally nonplussed by both of their reactions. “What is going on here?”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on all right. Your loving little sister got precisely what she deserved tonight. She learned that
she can’t always get what she wants by
throwing herself at a man, be he unmarried or otherwise. Isn’t that right, my dear sister-in-law?”

“Oh, I hate you! I don’t know how Marisa can tolerate the likes of you for one second. I detest the ground you walk on.”

“Meg, please,” Marisa pleaded, stepping between the two adversaries, who had squared off with one another.

“So this is where you are!” All eyes turned to greet Lady Maxwell. “I’ve been searching frantically for the three of you.
Have you lost every sense of social grace, closeting yourselves in here when you have a house full of guests?” She paused
for a reply and, when no one enlightened her, she demanded in a louder voice. “Well?”

“We stand rightfully chastised, Grandmother,” Justin finally agreed. “We were just about to rejoin our guests, as a matter
of fact. Isn’t that right, Meg?” He cast an intimidating look in her direction. “Why don’t you run along with Lady Maxwell?
The countess and I will follow very shortly. And mind you now, girl, behave yourself.”

Meg made little attempt to conceal the sour expression on her face, but she nevertheless dutifully followed Lady Maxwell out
of the room.

Now that they were alone, Marisa was bursting with curiosity about exactly what had happened in the garden, but Straeford
spoke first.

“Marisa, the sooner you find an eligible husband for that… that sister of yours, the better it will be for all of us.”

“But my lord,” Marisa entreated, “I really don’t think you understand Meg at all.”

“Of that I am absolutely certain,” he snorted.

“She’s young… and, of course, very, very foolish and sometimes headstrong in many ways. But she is not an evil person, I’m
sure you’ll agree.”

“I am not at all ready to agree entirely on that point, but neither am I prepared at this moment to discuss the matter at
great length. Let’s simply abandon this topic of discussion for the present,” he said with an air of finality. Straeford extended
an arm toward her and seemed anxious to put the whole matter aside. “Let us rejoin our guests. After all, it is our party,
you know. And I fancy another whirl about the dance floor with you, my dear.”

Marisa could not help revealing a look of amazement at the earl’s unexpected demonstration of warmth and affection. “Hmmm…”
she mused out loud. “It seems to me that I remember your telling me that you never danced.”

“Oh, no, my dear. Not at all,” he said goodnaturedly. “What I said was that I don’t dance as a rule.”

“Oh, and what might be the reason for breaking that rule tonight?” she inquired.

“A beautiful lady is the only reason I should ever consider breaking that rule,” he replied, leading her toward the ballroom.

Marisa sat in front of her dresser, staring absentmindedly in the mirror, pondering the night’s events. All in all, it had
been a rather successful evening. Every guest that had been expected had appeared, and by and large the food, the service,
and the music all seemed quite satisfactory. The only incident that had marred the occasion was the unpleasantness between
Justin and Meg. Poor girl, Marisa thought. The earl was no one to tamper with, and it must have been a jolt to her to experience
his wrath so totally. But what caused him to be so openly hostile toward Meg? Marisa reminded herself to find out in the morning
exactly what had taken place between the two of them.