Defiant Impostor (22 page)

"Pity, though. Miss Cary's missing a splendid good
time." Robert belched loudly, reeling a little to the left. "Too bad
about the last dance she promised you, eh, Dominick? Heard all about it from
Matthew, who hoped he'd be the one honored. You're not thinking of throwing a
bid for her into the hat with all the younger boys, are you? Good God, man, you
could be her father!"

Dominick didn't deem the slurred comment worthy of an answer,
nor would he waste more of his time on this fat, babbling fool. If Camille had
gone to bed, there was no point in remaining in this noisy ballroom.

Without even a nod of farewell, he disappeared into the
dim, smoke-filled game room, his palms itching to once again pick up the cards.

***

Adam stood just outside the yellow spill of light from
the ballroom's high arched windows, the shadows of the humid summer night
enveloping him, and watched grimly as Dominick closed the game room door in
Robert Grymes's face.

"Go on, you bastard," he muttered, his
fingers tightening around his snifter of brandy. "Murdering devil. Go
gamble away what little money you have left. You'll only make my revenge that
much easier, and that much sweeter."

He lifted the glass and drank deeply, the dark amber
liquid burning his throat like the fiery hatred coursing through his body.

The intensity of his feeling echoed the jealous fury he
had felt earlier when he had entered the ballroom to find Dominick dancing with
Camille, smiling at her, conversing quietly with her, holding her hand. His
beautiful Camille! If not for her assurances that they would announce their
betrothal in a few weeks' time, he would have ended their secret courtship then
and there by throwing that fiendish spawn of Satan right out the front door,
along with the rest of her slathering suitors.

Drawing a deep, ragged breath, Adam's gaze shot to the
second-story window high above him, the soft candlelight that streaked the
delicate lace curtains proof that she was still awake. She had disappeared from
the ballroom so suddenly while he had been dancing a gavotte with Celeste that
he hadn't had a chance to bid her good night. He had left immediately
thereafter himself, despite his partner's pretty sulking. He had been standing
beneath Camille's window for almost an hour now, hoping to catch a last glimpse
of her before he, too, went to bed.

It was not to be. Suddenly the dim light was doused,
her room falling dark.

"Damn." Adam turned on his heel and strode
toward the coach house, growing angry with himself.

He could have gone to her and inquired as to how she
was feeling, if he hadn't so readily agreed to sleep in his office. Matthew had
told him she had complained of a headache and fatigue, which told him that the
commotion of the evening had been too much for her. Now he would have to wait
until morning to see her while someone else slept in his bed, in his room, only
two doors away from his beloved.

He stopped, stunned, and glanced back at her darkened
windows.

His beloved
.
Was that what Camille was becoming to him? He had never expected that he might
fall in love with her, but it was happening, he admitted, and almost without
his awareness of her evolution from the mere instrument of his revenge into the
fascinating woman who was capturing his heart.

If anything, this long, frustrating day had driven home
his powerful feelings with resounding force. He didn't want any other man near
her. He didn't want any other man touching her. He didn't want anyone sharing
her beautiful smiles, her laughter, or her playful glances. Dammit, then why
had he agreed to continue their secret courtship? Why had he agreed to play her
deceptive little game, which would only draw more men to her like buzzing bees
around the sweetest, most fragrant wildflower in the field?

Remembering the plea in her incredible green eyes, Adam
shook his head as he resumed his stride. It was amazing what a man would do for
the love of a woman.

He mounted the steps to his office and, once inside the
moonlit room, sat down heavily on the bed.

One thing was perfectly clear to him. Camille might
think their "little deception" as she called it, was going to be fun
and romantic and slightly naughty, but he knew better.

For him, at least, the next few weeks would be pure
hell.

Chapter 12

"My, we've certainly made the rounds in the last
two weeks, haven't we?" Celeste commented to no one in particular inside
the swaying coach. She began to count on her slim white fingers. "First,
of course, was Camille's lovely welcome ball, which was a huge success by any
standards, then Amy's birthday picnic on Tuesday, followed by several dinner
parties and overnight stays at the homes of some of the finest families in the
Tidewater . . ." She paused and pointedly regarded her brother, who was
seated directly across from her ogling Susanna. "Help me, Matthew dear.
What else?"

He shot her a look of chagrin. "There was the
all-day musicale last Monday at the Wormeleys'—"

"Oh, yes, the one event Adam couldn't attend
because he had to catch up on his work at Briarwood," Celeste said in a
petulant voice, placing her hand possessively on Adam's forearm. When he
continued to stare out the window without replying, she focused her attention
upon Susanna, who was seated across from him, uncomfortably close to Matthew.

"I still can't believe you refused to play the
pianoforte for us, Camille, especially after how your father once boasted to my
papa that you played like an angel. And don't tell me that you're just too shy
to perform in public. You've blossomed into the belle of the Tidewater since
your ball, so that excuse doesn't count any longer."

Exasperated because she had already explained herself
to Celeste several times, Susanna nonetheless kept her voice light as she
repeated her excuse. "Papa highly exaggerated my skills. I'm really not
very good, despite what he must have said."

Not good was an understatement, she thought, trying to
ignore how Celeste was caressing Adam's sleeve. She couldn't playa note.
Recalling how unpleasant it had felt to be pressured in front of so many
people, she resolved again never to attend any more musicales.

"Well, I don't know if I believe you,"
Celeste replied airily, snaking her arm through Adam's as she said to him in a
playful aside, "Do you?"

"If Miss Cary says she doesn't play well, then I
believe her," he answered, the tightness along his jaw showing that he
wasn't happy with Celeste's increasingly frequent gestures of familiarity.

"Oh, you
would
,
seeing as Camille's your employer," the redhead retorted, then she
blithely changed the subject, counting once more upon her fingers. "Let's
see, after the musicale there was the card party Wednesday at the Dandridges',
a boat ride on the James and that wonderful two-night stay with the Fitzhughs',
a barbeque at our house on Saturday, services yesterday at the parish church,
and now today, a trip into Yorktown to visit the shops." She meaningfully
kneed her brother, who was staring at Susanna with a look of rapt admiration.
"Do you have any suggestions as to what we might do tomorrow, Matthew? We
have several events to choose from or we could find our own amusement."

"Well—"

"Actually, I'd like to spend the day at
home," Susanna interrupted him, more weary of Matthew's incessant company
and moon-eyed, worshipful glances than she could ever say. When Celeste and her
brother looked equally surprised and crestfallen, she hastily added, "I'll
see you again on Wednesday. That is, Mr. Thornton and I" —she glanced at
Adam, who was smiling his approval in that warm, intimate fashion that never
failed to fluster her, then she skipped her gaze back to Celeste— "since
we're all attending the horse races together at the Tates'. I need some time to
rest. We've been so busy, traveling so much . . ."

"No, you just want some time to decide which of
your suitors you're going to take seriously, isn't that right, Camille?"
Celeste said, arching a slim russet brow. "You certainly have enough of
them."

"I don't know what you mean," Susanna
answered, acutely aware that Adam's smile had suddenly faded.

"Oh, come now, you don't fool me. You know that
you'll have a riot on your hands if you don't make up your mind soon. Why,
you're making all the unmarried girls in the Tidewater as jealous as
peahens." She gave Adam's arm a light squeeze, smiling up at him.
"Except me, of course." She sobered a little, darting a sympathetic
glance at her brother. "I think you're making Matthew a little jealous,
too."

"Celeste . . ."

She ignored her brother's embarrassed entreaty and
rushed on. "I do believe today was the first time he didn't have to
compete with anyone else for your attention, and especially not the honorable
Mr. Spencer. Yorktown must have been a bit too far of a drive for him from
Raven's Point." Her forehead crinkled into a frown. "I really don't
know what attracts you to him, Camille. Oh, he might be rich and handsome and
have a seat on the governor's council, but he's so old!"

As Adam noticeably tensed, his expression growing
thunderous, Susanna wished Celeste would swallow a fly or choke on her foolish
tongue, anything to cease her endless chatter.

How much longer would she be able to stall Adam's
desire to publicly announce his courtship of her, when Celeste continually made
it a point to comment upon Dominick's presence at most of their outings? She
could sense Adam's frustration growing with each passing day, and these little
barbs didn't help. She couldn't have been more relieved when the Grymes's coach
turned onto her drive, and the Cary mansion appeared through the trees.

"Are you sure we can't persuade you to join us
tomorrow?" Celeste asked, directing her pouty question more at Adam than
at Susanna. "Perhaps just you and I could meet—"

"Sorry, Celeste. There's a lot of work I have to
get done before Wednesday," he said, cutting her off brusquely, then
climbing from the carriage as soon as it jolted to a halt. As he assisted
Susanna to the ground and unloaded her few packages, Matthew jumped down, too,
and stood awkwardly next to her.

"I had a wonderful time today, Miss Cary. I'm glad
you liked the music box I bought for you."

"It was too generous a gift," Susanna said,
holding the prettily wrapped box. "You shouldn't have."

Matthew shrugged self-consciously, a blush creeping
over his chubby cheeks. "I wanted to."

"I'll treasure it, then. Thank you, Matthew."

His neck turned bright red against the abundant white
frills at his throat. "Yes . . . uh, well, good-bye, Miss Cary. We'll see
you on Wednesday morning. Would nine o'clock be too early?"

"No, that will be fine."

Adam's voice held barely concealed irritation.
"Good-bye, Matthew. You two had better head home. There's only an hour
left before dark."

Nodding, the young planter reboarded the carriage. Both
he and his sister waved from the windows as it clattered around the drive.

"Good-bye, Adam!" Celeste called out, boldly
throwing him a kiss. "I can hardly wait until Wednesday!"

"Nor can I," he muttered sarcastically.

Deciding it was best to pretend not to hear him,
Susanna picked up the largest package, which contained a new straw hat she
planned to wear at the horse races.

"I'll carry that for you," Adam said, their
hands brushing as he took the round box from her and gathered up her two
smaller parcels.

"Thank you," she murmured, unsettled by even
the slightest physical contact with him. He hadn't touched her since his
good-night kiss yesterday, which was quite enough temptation for her weakening
defenses.

She had come to dread that intimate ritual when he escorted
her to her room on the evenings they spent alone at Briarwood. His embraces,
sometimes passionate, sometimes achingly tender, never failed to unleash within
her desires she had been desperately trying to keep under control. She had told
herself a thousand times she wasn't falling in love with him, nor he with her,
but when he held her in his arms, nothing made sense anymore.

Thank God she had made up her mind to marry Dominick
Spencer, Susanna thought as they walked to the house, Adam strangely silent
beside her. She wanted this increasingly disturbing relationship to end. She
had yet to visit Raven's Point, but now she considered that a mere formality.
During the past two weeks Dominick had more than shown her that he was the kind
of gentleman of whom Lady Redmayne would have approved.

He had been very well received by all of her hosts,
indicating to her that he was highly respected. Everything she had heard from
him and others about Raven's Point had convinced her that he would be able to
support her without any assistance from her own inheritance, and her marriage
to one of the governor's close advisors certainly wouldn't damage the Cary
reputation.

She wasn't in love with him, but that had never been an
issue. And she didn't mind that he was much older than she was, despite what
Celeste might think. Dominick possessed a mature and elegant manner that was
altogether lacking in the younger planters she had met. He was so attractive
and charming and generous, she couldn't help but believe she would be content
with him, just as Lady Redmayne had said

"Did you have a nice time in Yorktown, Miss
Camille?"

Nudged from her reverie by Ertha's friendly question,
Susanna smiled at the housekeeper, who was holding open the front door for
them. "Yes, I did," she replied, although it was a half-truth. Having
Matthew follow her around all day like a besotted puppy hadn't been pleasant,
and Celeste's constant flirting with Adam had defied Susanna's best efforts to
remain unaffected by her niggling, irrational jealousy. Still, she had enjoyed
the shopping.