An Heiress at Heart (30 page)

Lizzie took his arm. A small thrill went through her as she touched him. Not from infatuation, as had once been the case. It was more like the jagged heart-pounding awareness of being too close to a dangerous animal. His hand closed over hers, and he led her to the dance floor. His hand found the spot on her back where it had rested hundreds of times, and they began to dance.

Lizzie danced a half pace out of step with the music. Twice she “accidentally” failed to follow Freddie’s lead, causing her in the first instance to step on his foot, and in the second to collide with another couple. Each time she laughed and apologized, while Freddie eked out false reassurances and picked up the step again.

Lizzie had worried that it would be a fight to keep from falling into his smooth lead, allowing the music to carry her away as it had so often when they had danced. But, in fact, it was easy to do, knowing that with every step, she was fighting for her life. And for Tom’s.

Freddie was putting on quite a show, doing all the things that he would have done if, in fact, he’d been dancing with Ria Thornborough.

But still Lizzie could tell he was not convinced.

When the music ended, he released her and gave her a bow. She saw irritation in his eyes as he straightened. “I don’t know when I’ve had a more charming dance partner.”

“Mr. Hightower, you are too kind. You may yet win me over with all these compliments.”

“You are not so easy to be won as that,” he said. “You are a fortress to be won. A prize. I intend to scale your walls.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes meeting hers as he did so. The gesture took her back instantly to the night when Geoffrey had done the same. This time there was no joy. No breathlessness. Only the cold, hard knowledge that she was playing a most dangerous game.

She was aware of heads turning, of people watching, whispering. “Perhaps I shall enjoy being won over,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
Let them whisper,
she thought.
It can only help me. They think I am Ria, and I will beat Freddie at his game.

From the corner of her eye, Lizzie could see that Geoffrey was among those who were watching them. She was surprised and shamefully happy to see that Lucinda was not with him. The moment Freddie kissed her hand, Geoffrey began stalking—actually stalking—toward them.

“Might I have the next dance?” Geoffrey said. His words were civil, but the look he gave Freddie relayed something more akin to cold fury.

Freddie did not appear inclined to fight this particular battle. He let go of Lizzie’s hand, saying easily, “Until the next time, then.” With a curt nod to Geoffrey, he turned and walked away.

Instead of escorting Lizzie to the dance floor, however, Geoffrey led her out a set of French doors to a stone terrace. The cool breeze felt startlingly good after the heat of the ballroom and the exertion of her charade with Freddie.

“Are we not going to dance?” It was not difficult to feign annoyance. Her feelings were in such chaos that she did not know how or what to think. Especially when Geoffrey was this close. Was he going to tell her about
his engagement to Lucinda? She could not endure a discussion of Geoffrey’s wedding plans just now. Her heart was too fragile.

“Ria, do you have any idea what you are doing?” Geoffrey said, practically biting out the words.

Lizzie looked at him, realizing with shock that the anger clouding his face earlier had not been solely for Freddie. He was, in fact, angry with
her.
It was not enough to have to flirt with Freddie; she would now be tasked with facing Geoffrey’s ire. No doubt he would say she was not behaving in a seemly manner. Not being a proper widow.

Or had she actually made him jealous? This thought gave her an irrational burst of hope. It would mean he had deeper feelings for her after all. She had to know.

*

Geoffrey looked at Ria expectantly, waiting for a response.

“I believe I was dancing with Freddie,” she said. “Now I am standing outside with you. Does that answer your question?”

Geoffrey tried to control his anger. All he had gleaned from his prayers and reflection was that somehow Ria needed him, needed his help. This he would willingly give. But how could he help her when she seemed so determined to do herself harm?

He took her by the arms, doing his best to keep from shaking her. “I saw the two of you in there. I warned you before that he is dangerous. He preys on women he knows to be vulnerable. Clearly you are in his sights.”

“I am well aware of the sort of man he is,” she said, giving him a defiant look. “I thank you for your concern, but I am able to handle myself. Perhaps you should be returning to Miss Cardington. She has set her sights on you, that is plain.”

“Lady Cardington has been doing the hunting, not Lucinda. She—”

He stopped short, realizing with dismay that he had used her Christian name, implying a greater intimacy with Miss Cardington than, in fact, existed.

Ria noticed it, too. “Lucinda?” she repeated, a note of inquiry in her voice.

He shook his head and began again. “
Miss Cardington
is a very admirable lady, and she is pliable enough to acquiesce to her mother’s schemes.”

Ria gazed up at him, her violet eyes reflecting fire from the torchlight. “Is that what you want? Someone who is pliable?”

“No! I am not at all sure she is the right woman for me.”

“She is not,” Ria said in a pained voice. Her words shocked him. She looked as though she had surprised herself as well. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was wrong of me.”

He realized then that he was still holding her arms. But she had stopped trying to resist him. He relaxed his grip, but could not bring himself to let her go.

She lowered her head and leaned in, closing the gap between them ever so slightly. Geoffrey found his head instinctively lowering toward her hair, seeking the soft rose scent that always seemed to linger about her.

She lifted her face at that precise moment, and her
cheek brushed against his. Their eyes met. He knew then that he would be forever powerless to fight against her pull. It was delicate and unseen and yet as unstoppable as the moon’s draw on the tide.

Her lips parted, an unconscious request that he could not deny. He bent his head and kissed her.

It was startling, that first touch of his lips on hers. He realized then that he had been wanting this from the moment he had laid eyes upon her. Even bruised and bleeding in the street, she had drawn him to her with that curious mix of strength and vulnerability that he had never seen in any woman.

Ria made a small noise, whether in protest or in compliance, he did not know, but he could not stop and she did not pull away. Her hands came up around his neck, her mouth now seeking his, kissing his lips, his cheek, his chin. It was too good, too satisfying, too right.

Right? He was kissing his brother’s widow! And yet he could not resist kissing her once more, knowing the sweet richness of it would haunt him forever.

At last he found the strength to pull away. “We must stop.” His voice held no conviction.

She tried to pull him to her again. “Please…”

“Ria!” He said it too roughly, causing her to wince.

The heat from their kisses faded into the cool breeze.

Grabbing what self-control he had left, he said, “You know why we can’t do this.”

Her hands fell to her sides. “Yes, I know why,” she said with a shaky attempt at a laugh. “I cannot imagine what you must think of me.”

He wanted only to take hold of her, to kiss the contrite expression from her lips, replace it with the longing
he had seen there moments before. It took more strength than he ever thought possible just to stand motionless, to keep some distance between them.

Ria turned away and walked to the stone railing lining the terrace at the edge of the lamplight. Geoffrey glanced quickly toward the French doors leading to the ballroom, belatedly aware that they might have been seen. Thank heaven they seemed to be alone.

He followed her to the railing. There they stood, unspeaking, gazing out over the garden below. A full moon flooded the landscape with silver light. The effect was achingly beautiful, deceptively peaceful. Music and laughter drifted from the ballroom.

Ria was trembling, but Geoffrey did not trust himself to reach for her, to comfort her. He could tell from the way she held herself that she was not asking for solace. They must keep as much distance between themselves as possible.

Guilt overtook him. How had it happened? He had only been trying to warn her about Hightower. Surely
this
was not what the Lord had in mind. But she had been too irresistible.
How easily sin does beset us,
he thought.

“Ria.” Her name seemed to bruise his dry throat as he said it. “I cannot even begin to apologize. It was unforgivable of me to take advantage of you as I did.”

“No.” Her voice was barely audible. “You did not take advantage.” She turned to face him. “I
wanted
to kiss you. I wanted—”

I wanted you.

She did not have to say it aloud. Her expressive eyes, so earnest under those delicate brows, spoke more loudly than any words.

The realization shook Geoffrey to the center of his soul. Plenty of women had wanted him for his money, his position, even for his honorable reputation. But never had he been convinced that a woman simply wanted
him.

Fool,
he reprimanded himself, recalling Ria’s former harsh words.
What do you know about love?

Not much, apparently, if he could fall so irrevocably for the wrong woman at the wrong time. “Ria. We can’t let this happen again.” He was appalled at the harsh tenor of his voice, but told himself it was for the best. It might shake both of them into their right minds.

Her gazed fell, the longing now veiled. “It will not happen again. I leave for Rosewood tomorrow, and who knows how long it will be before we see each other?”

Two couples spilled onto the terrace, chatting gaily, disrupting any further chance to discuss the matter privately.

“We should go in,” Geoffrey said.

Ria nodded.

They reentered the bright lights of the ballroom. Ria did not meet his eye, nor did she see his bow as she left him.

He should have been glad that she was so willing to do the right thing. He should have been proud that they were going to put this moment behind them.

He should have been.

“Geoffrey, there you are.”

Geoffrey turned to see James approaching, accompanied by Freddie Hightower. “Come with us,” he said loudly. His face was flushed from drinking. “We are just going outside for a smoke.”

“It appears Geoffrey has just come from the terrace,” Hightower said with a smirk.

Geoffrey was sorely tempted to curse. The man must
have seen him and Ria come in together. He could only thank God that Hightower hadn’t seen what had transpired outside.

“Well, then,” said James, undaunted. “He gets to go again!”

James was clearly feeling the effects of too much punch. He grabbed Geoffrey by the shoulders, nearly stumbling as he did so. Geoffrey set him to rights and, seeing there was no way around it, accompanied the two men outside.

Hightower pulled three cigars out of a coat pocket. “Looks like I’m buying this evening.”

Geoffrey would have refused, but instead indulged in the minor pleasure of going against Hightower’s expectations. He accepted the cigar.

“What were you and your dear sister-in-law doing out here on the terrace?” Hightower asked.

Geoffrey determined to stay on the offensive. “I was warning her about you, as it happens.”

“How brotherly of you. I believe you are too late, however.”

“Too late for
what
?”

“Gentlemen, I think it’s time I told you a little story,” Hightower said. He lit his cigar and took a long pull on it. “Ria and Edward ran away ten years ago. They were not seen or heard from since.”

“We know that,” Geoffrey said impatiently.

“Yes, but it has bearing on what I am about to tell you. Here it is, gentlemen, plain and simple. About seven years ago, I fell under the spell of a charming young woman. A blond lady she was, with amazing violet-blue eyes that could reach out and snare you from fifty yards.”

The implication was clear. But how could he be talking about Ria? Seven years ago she was in Australia. Wasn’t she? Every time he’d seen her with Freddie, he’d been certain there was something going on between them. Something that went beyond the surface. “And just where, exactly, did you meet this lady?” Geoffrey demanded.

“I saw her in Hyde Park one fine Sunday as I was taking a stroll. She was so beautiful that I could not resist speaking to her.”

“You approached a woman with no introduction?”

“Freddie, how impudent,” James said with a grin.

“The lady was willing to speak to me,” Freddie replied. “And when a lady is willing…” He took another puff on his cigar and blew out the smoke with a self-satisfied air. “The long and short of it was that we struck up a very nice acquaintance. When I told her I was leaving for Europe on a grand tour, she begged me to take her along.”

James gave him a smile. “She begged you, did she?”

“She
begged
me.” Freddie relaxed against the railing and focused on the dancing inside as though he were seeing and reliving his
grand tour
. “We had a most agreeable time, of course.”

Geoffrey gripped his cigar tightly. The thought that Freddie could speak of his lustful affairs so casually rankled him for more reasons than he would admit. “What does this have to do with Ria?”

“Come on, man,” Hightower said impatiently. “Don’t be so deliberately obtuse. Ria has been gone for ten years. During that time, I spent nearly a year with a woman who was her exact double. I have not seen that woman
since the day she and a so-called brother—who, by the way, looks nothing like her—took themselves off to God knows where. Now Ria comes back and tells you she’s been in Australia all this time. She says Edward has been dead for two years, but she doesn’t seem to be mourning him much. My guess is that he’s been dead for much longer than that, and that our lovely Ria has been engaged in a few more occupations than just sheep farming.”