Julie Garwood (10 page)

He was more handsome than she remembered, and a good head taller than his cohorts. His hair was combed but still looked slightly windblown, and that saved him from looking completely untouchable. It almost made him look vulnerable. His mouth didn’t look vulnerable at all, though, it looked hard. She wondered if he smiled very often.

Why hadn’t she remembered how large he was, how wide his shoulders were? She had the sudden image of a Spartan warrior, King Leonidas perhaps, and thought that in another time, another life, Bradford could well have been related to the mighty warrior.

The Duke of Bradford had been observing Caroline Richmond all evening. From the minute she appeared, so regal and composed, standing by the Earl of Braxton’s side, he had been spellbound. She was quite stunning, and her appearance caused an instant impact. He knew he wasn’t alone in his admiration and felt
great irritation over that fact. Why, every buck in the room was staring at her!

Damn! He had a claim on her. She was going to belong to him. Bradford found himself shaking his head over the fierceness of his need to have her, to overpower her. His boredom with the
ton
and the foolishness of it all had vanished when she walked through the doorway. He felt a sudden zest for life that he had been sure died with his father and his brother.

Bradford had only accepted the invitation for tonight’s affair in the hopes that she might be in attendance. Everyone in the
ton
attended the Duke of Ashford’s annual ball, and Bradford believed that Caroline’s father would be no exception.

His brooding gaze warmed Caroline in a way she couldn’t comprehend. She felt her cheeks grow hot and realized that she was embarrassed. Bradford was making her terribly uncomfortable and extremely nervous. It wouldn’t do, this intimidating effect he was having on her, because Caroline knew that she was in real jeopardy of bursting into nervous laughter. And how would she explain herself to those around her then? she asked herself.

Thoughts raced through her head like gusts of wind racing through an empty field. She couldn’t seem to catch a single thought and truly hold on to it.

Caroline continued to meet his hot gaze while she considered one devious way after another to block his unsettling effect on her.

Did he have any idea of how he was affecting her? She certainly hoped not! Her hands trembled, her senses felt flooded, and her thoughts muddled into irrational fragments.

She became increasingly nervous. Worse, she began to worry that she would do something terribly incorrect. If she did, it would be Bradford’s fault, she decided. That offered little comfort, she realized, because he would probably be extremely smug over her
discomfort. And if she made a complete ninny of herself, he would probably be pleased to know that it was his presence that had caused it all.

Caroline concentrated, schooling her features into what she hoped was a bland and bored expression. She was trying to mimic the looks on most of the ladies’ faces in the ballroom, and then found that once she had achieved it, she simply couldn’t hold it. She broke into a smile and accepted the fact that, never having really been bored, she couldn’t very well pretend that she was. She just didn’t know how.

Bradford caught her smile and returned it, surprising himself with the easy show of emotion. He rarely let anything show on his face, and now he was acting like a young buck on his first night out on the town.

Caroline tried to maintain some dignity and nodded acceptance of his smile. When she finally realized that she couldn’t outstare him, she started to turn back to the group surrounding her. A mischievous look entered Bradford’s eyes, stopping her, and she watched, quite mesmerized, as he slowly lowered his eyelid in a provocative, exaggerated wink.

Caroline shook her head over his flirtatious gesture and tried to look irritated, yet ruined the effect by laughing. Admitting defeat, she quickly turned her back on him, knowing that he had seen her reaction. Feeling much like a silly girl in need of supervision, Caroline took a deep breath and tried to listen to what was being said.

The marquis and the earl were engaged in a rather heated debate over just who Caroline and Charity should be introduced to, and more importantly, by whom. Caroline took the time to draw her cousin aside and whisper into her ear. “They’re here, Charity. Over against the wall. No, don’t look,” she demanded.

“Who’s here?” Charity questioned. She squinted and tried to see around Caroline.

“Don’t look! You couldn’t see them anyway. They’re too far away.”

“Lynnie, get hold of yourself. Who is here?” Charity let her exasperation show by placing one hand on her hip.

“The man we helped that day we first arrived,” Caroline explained, realizing that Charity was right. She did have to get hold of herself. Whatever was the matter with her? She felt as skittish as one of her mares and couldn’t for the life of her understand why. “And Bradford, too,” Caroline continued. “They’re both here.”

“Oh, isn’t that nice!” Charity smiled with pleasure. “We must say hello.”

“No, it
isn’t
nice,” Caroline snapped out. “I don’t think it’s nice at all.”

Charity frowned. “Caroline, will you listen to yourself. What
is
the matter with you? You look almost afraid.” Charity seemed awed by her statement. In all the years she had lived with Caroline, she had never seen her afraid.

Charity suddenly felt vastly superior to her level-headed cousin. Caroline appeared to be rattled, and Charity had to be careful not to gape in amazement.

There was no more time to discuss the topic, as Charity was quickly led away for the next dance set. Viscount Claymere was then bowing before Caroline in a great show of flurry, claiming her immediate attention.

Caroline walked by his side to the middle of the floor, noticing that his hand was sweaty as he clutched her elbow. She decided that the viscount was nervous and tried to help him relax. She gave him a smile and then wished she hadn’t been so rash. The poor man tripped over his own feet, and Caroline was forced to grab him by the elbow to keep him standing.

She was careful from then on to keep her expression
composed and not look directly at him, for when she turned and curtsied and glanced up at him, he tripped all over again. The music began and Caroline concentrated on the intricate steps required of her, thankful that Caimen had taken the time to show her how to dance. She knew that Bradford was watching her but vowed that she wouldn’t look his way. She had decided, as she was being led out to the dance floor, to completely ignore him. He was, she reminded herself for the fiftieth time, too overbearing. He did look like a Spartan, she thought again, all discipline and harsh ridges. And, she decided, she didn’t much care for the Sparta civilization after all.

Bradford waited until the dance had ended and then made his move. He nodded toward Caroline when Brummell asked him what had him so transfixed. Brummell turned and, keeping his expression carefully hidden, also watched Caroline.

The dance finally ended and Caroline felt like genuflecting with acute relief. The viscount had stepped on her toes more than once, causing her feet to ache in protest.

Caroline’s father joined her before the viscount could do more damage, and the clumsy young man made another great bow before he started to take his leave. He suddenly changed his mind, turned, and grabbed Caroline’s hand. Before she could pull it away, he leaned forward and kissed the back of her hand quite loudly.

Caroline remembered not to smile and the viscount, after promising to return, finally took his leave.

“Do not take this as an offense, Father, but the English do tend to be a jittery lot,” Caroline said as she watched the viscount hurry away.

“Since you are English, I will not take exception,” her father returned with a grin.

Then suddenly
he
was standing before her, with
Brummell at his side. Caroline couldn’t very well ignore the pair as they blocked her path and her vision. She was staring into Bradford’s chest and finally forced herself to look up.

“We are here for an introduction,” Bradford stated in a deep drawl. His words were directed at her father but his eyes remained fixed on her. Caroline noticed that he was staring at her mouth and she nervously wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

The Earl of Braxton was pleased. “Of course. Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Caroline Mary. Caroline, my dear, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Duke of Bradford and to Mr. George Brummell.”

Bradford turned to Brummell and grinned. “After you this time, I believe?”

“Naturally,” Brummell replied. He turned his attention to Caroline and smiled. The noise had dimmed and Caroline thought that everyone in the room was trying to hear what was being said. She felt very much like the focal point at a county fair.

“It is indeed a pleasure to meet you,” Brummell stated with great formality. He bowed, low enough to brush the floor with the tips of his fingers, and then straightened. “You are from the Colonies?” he inquired as he took her hand and slowly raised it to his lips. Audible gasps could be heard over this affectionate gesture, and Caroline’s eyes sparkled with mischief and appreciation. She could feel the warmth of her father’s pleasure heating her face. Surely that was the reason for the blush she knew she displayed!

“How very astute of you to know that I am indeed from the Colonies, Mr. Brummell,” Caroline returned.

“Please, you must call me Beau. While it has been suggested that I be called by my given name, George, I favor my nickname.”

“Your name is truly George?” Caroline asked, trying desperately not to laugh. Why, that was the very name she had suggested when he had wanted to keep his
identity secret. Since it was also the name of England’s king, she considered that it was a logical coincidence.

“Yes, and only recently a rather beautiful young lady suggested that I use it once again. I declined the invitation,” he added with a sigh.

He was having great sport with her, daring her not to laugh at his remarks. Caroline experienced an urge to get even. “I believe that we share a mutual friend, Beau.”

Brummell looked a bit disconcerted and Caroline smiled. “Yes, Mr. Harold Smith has often spoken of you. You may not recall the acquaintance, however, for the dear man sold everything he owned and moved to the Colonies a long while back. He said that London was too … barbaric. I do believe those were his very words.”

Brummell and Bradford looked at each other and then back to her. They both started to laugh and before they were through, Brummell had to dab at the corners of his eyes with his handkerchief.

“And how is Mr. Smith getting along,” Bradford asked when he could gain control of himself.

Caroline smiled at Bradford and then turned back to Brummell. “Why, he’s looking quite fit in my opinion. He was having a bit of trouble with one leg but I do believe, from the way he gets around now, that it must have healed to his satisfaction.”

“What was the poor man’s ailment?” the earl interrupted to ask.

“Gout,” Caroline immediately answered.

Brummell started coughing and Bradford had to whack him on the back. “I have not laughed so in years,” Beau admitted. “Madam, it has been a pleasure and I look forward to seeing you again.” Brummell’s voice had risen during the last of his conversation and Caroline realized it was for the benefit of those in attendance. “Before the evening is out, I must be allowed to meet your cousin.”

Caroline nodded and watched Brummell retreat. She finally turned to Bradford and wished she had the nerve to ask him if he didn’t have somewhere to go also.

The music started up again just when her father announced that he was going to fetch some champagne for the marquis. Bradford requested formal permission from her father to dance with Caroline. A waltz was beginning, and while the earl gave his permission, Caroline was shaking her head.

Bradford ignored her denial and took hold of her hand. He all but pulled her along, until they were almost to the doors that led outside. Then he turned and took her into his arms.

Caroline kept her gaze focused on his black jacket. “I don’t know how to waltz,” she said in a whisper.

Bradford took his hand from her waist and used it to turn her face up to him. “My buttons will not answer you,” he said in a voice filled with humor.

“I said that I do not know how to dance the waltz,” Caroline repeated. Bradford’s fingers were brushing against the sensitive area below her chin, and she felt a sudden tremor take hold of her legs.

“Put your arm around me,” Bradford whispered, his voice silky. He had leaned down, so that their faces were almost touching.

Caroline shook her head. Bradford again ignored her and placed her hand high up on his shoulder. If she as much as shifted her hand an inch, she would be touching his hair. And then they were moving and she was being twirled around and around and the only thing she could concentrate on was the feeling of being held in his arms.

They didn’t speak another word during the dance and Caroline was thankful for it. She felt awkward and unsure of herself. His hand seemed to burn through her gown, branding her.

Caroline shifted her left hand and took advantage of the position; her fingers slowly reached up until they
were touching the silken brown hair at the base of his neck. She was surprised that it felt so soft. Her fingers retreated before Bradford would realize her boldness.

But he did notice. The light brush against the sensitive skin on the back of his neck drove him to distraction. He had a sudden urge to pick Caroline up and kiss her until she was overwhelmed with desire, as overwhelmed as he was at this very moment.

Caroline glanced around and immediately noticed that the other ladies dancing did not have their left hands so high up on their partners’ shoulders. She immediately moved her hand, copying the correct stance, and shot Bradford a glare. “We are dancing entirely too close,” Caroline stated. “I will not have my father embarrassed.”

Bradford reluctantly released his grip and let her move back a space. He grinned a true rascal’s grin and asked, “Is that the only reason you do not want to be close to me?”