Authors: Kathryn Kirkwood
“If it pleases you, Duke, I will taste one gladly.” Regina smiled up at him bravely. “But I fear you must instruct me. I have not the least notion of how to get it out of its shell.”
“Allow me, my dear.” The duke was smiling as he drew the
snail from its shell with a practiced motion and then held it out to her.
Regina took a deep breath and popped it into her mouth before she could consider which garden it had last inhabited. She chewed, swallowed, and then she laughed. “It is precisely as Lissa told me, merely an excuse for a delightful excess of butter and garlic with no taste of its own to speak of.”
“Lissa said that?” The duke laughed long and hard. “She did not make that statement in Henri’s presence, did she?”
“I fear that she did, but she confided that Henri also laughed, especially when she told him that he could save a fortune on your accounts by cleaning the shells and using a bit of tough meat with which to stuff them.”
The duke laughed again. “I must watch Henri carefully, or he will do exactly that. Lissa is correct. There would be few who would be the wiser.”
When the next course was served, the duke turned to Aunt Sarah, who was seated on his left, with real regret. Regina was a delightful dinner companion and he had enjoyed their repartee. He had not meant to coerce her to eat the snail, but she had met his challenge well and had made him laugh in the bargain. It was apparent that she was beginning to relax around him and no longer felt so subjugated by his title and station.
“Do not you agree?”
Aunt Sarah was gazing at him expectantly, and the duke nodded quickly. “Indeed I do, Aunt Sarah.”
This seemed to satisfy her and when she went on to describe an exhibit at the Royal Academy that she had attended last Season, the duke’s mind returned to his assessment of Regina. His feelings for her had grown during the past few weeks, but not precisely in the way that he had hoped. He found he regarded Regina as a friend, one with whom he would be content to share many happy hours. He enjoyed her wit, found her most personable, and sought out her company to the exclusion of all others. His mother and sister might claim that these attributes were sufficient to make a successful marriage, but Robert was not
so certain. He had wished to develop a true
tendre
for Regina, to enjoy once again the emotions he’d harbored when they’d first met on Aunt Sarah’s darkened balcony. Until that happened, he would hold his tongue in check and refuse to utter the words which Lady Harrington wished so desperately to hear.
Lissa smiled as the ladies retired and the gentlemen prepared to enjoy their cigars and port. Her work was finished and she was free to return to Belgrave Square. She would wait until the dancing had commenced, take one last tour of the premises to make certain that nothing had been neglected, and then she would take her leave.
Henri was seated in the kitchen, his face flushed with success. The duke, himself, had entered the kitchens to compliment his French chef. When Henri saw Lissa, he jumped from his chair and kissed her soundly on both cheeks.
“Mon enfant!”
Henri gazed at her fondly. “It is because of you that his grace entered my kitchens!”
Melissa was surprised. “But why is that, Henri?”
“He came to tell me that the royal bisque was a grand success and to warn me of the ladies who would attempt to steal my recipe.”
Melissa nodded. “And you assured him that no one save you knew how to make it?”
“Precisely! His grace wagered that it would be the talk of the
ton
on the morrow and that many others would try to lure me away from his kitchens.”
Melissa frowned slightly. “But you would not leave his grace, would you, Henri?”
“Never!” Henri shook his head dramatically. “When I assured his grace that my loyalties were solely his, he made me the gift of a generous gratuity for what he termed a most exquisite feast.”
Melissa nodded, hiding a grin. “I am most happy to hear that, Henri.”
“I am preparing a hamper for you.” Smiles wreathed Henri’s face as he regarded Melissa. “I have located my recipe for a chocolate confection that you will be certain to enjoy and I shall have packed a sample of all that was served tonight. Why do you not go out to the gardens and breathe the cool air for a few moments? It will be finished when you return.”
“Thank you, Henri. I shall do that.”
Melissa was smiling as she left the kitchens and slipped out into the gardens. There was no danger of meeting any of the guests. The ladies were still in the withdrawing room and the gentlemen were conversing over cigars and snifters of brandy or port.
The garden was peaceful and lovely. Melissa found a marble bench by a huge tree whose low-hanging branches screened her from view. She seated herself on the cool smooth surface and breathed in the night air gratefully. She had not taken a moment to rest this entire day and she was indeed weary.
Melissa sat, deep in thought for long moments, staring up at the brilliant stars overhead. The moon was a thin slice of silver on the horizon and the air was perfumed with the scent of sweet flowers in bloom. The night and the aspect were so romantic, Melissa could not keep her thoughts from turning to the duke and the dance they had shared on Lady Beckworth’s balcony. Oh, how she wished that she could feel his strong arms around her once more as their feet moved in rhythm to the lovely strains of the waltz!
As if in answer to her unspoken desire, the orchestra began to play. The French doors of the ballroom were open to the warm night air, and the music wafted out, carried by the gentle night breeze, to surround Melissa’s bench with its rich melody. It was the opening dance and the duke would partner his hostess. Melissa could imagine her stepmother sweeping across the length of the ballroom in the duke’s arms, smiling and nodding at the guests as she graciously accepted their compliments for the evening’s successful entertainment.
Melissa was not certain how long she sat there, listening to
the music by the light of the glittering stars. The second dance, in which the duke would partner Regina, started and ended, and then the third. Melissa was aware that it was long past time for her to take her leave. The hamper that Henri had prepared for her would be filled by now, and Mary would be awaiting her company at the house on Belgrave Square.
Still Melissa sat on, the gentle night breezes drifting through her hair and easing her exhaustion away. She was completely alone, far from the eyes of the duke’s staff and his guests, and there was no one to observe her as she shed her servant’s role and dreamed of taking her rightful place in society. As the daughter of a nobleman, she would have been an invited guest at the duke’s table, laughing and conversing with the guests while she freely sampled Henri’s culinary delights. Perhaps she might even have been seated at the duke’s side, privy to his smiles and private converse as Regina had been. And perhaps, just perhaps, he would have chosen to court her, instead of Regina.
Melissa wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and attempted to clear her mind of traitorous thoughts. Regina was entirely deserving of the duke’s attentions and to deny it would be unworthy of her. She was truly happy for her stepsister’s fortune and it would serve her well to put her jealous feelings aside and accept whatever the fates decreed with good grace.
They were playing a waltz! A smile turned up the corners of Melissa’s lips and she rose to her feet. The lovely strains of music served to soothe her and carry her bleak thoughts away. She swayed gently to and fro and then her feet began to move on the lush green grass. She would dance this waltz with the memory of the duke’s dear features in her mind and then she would vanquish his image from her heart. It was as her father had always told her; there was no cause to turn into a watering pot over a situation that she could not change.
The duke slipped away through the French doors and gave a sigh of relief. He had completed his dance with Lady Harrington,
though it had not been pleasant. The widow was a superb dancer, as light as a feather in his arms, but he had found himself bristling with outrage each time one of his guests had paid her a compliment on the evening’s arrangements. The second dance with Regina had been most pleasant as had the third, with her sister, Dorothea. It seemed a miracle that Lady Harrington had given birth to two daughters, both who differed in such a pleasant manner from their mother. During the fourth dance, he had stood up with Aunt Sarah who had done her utmost to persuade him that her chef was in dire need of the recipe for Henri’s lobster bisque. Then Robert had sought out Regina again, intending to ask her if she would care to step out on the balcony with him for a bit of fresh air.
But Regina had not been in attendance. After a word with Dorothea, Robert had learned that she had exited the ballroom shortly after a vigorous dance with Lord Ulmann who was known far and wide as a clumsy partner who had ruined more pairs of satin slippers than the London rains. No doubt Regina had retired to enlist the aid of one of the maids to repair some damage Lord Ulmann had caused to her
ensemble.
The balcony was deserted and Robert leaned against the rail, remembering his first dance with Regina. In all his dealings with her since, she had not engaged his heart as she had done on that fateful night. He found himself wishing that she would see him standing here and come to his side, transforming herself into the sprite that he had once held in his arms.
The dance ended and Robert sighed again. Perhaps it had been the magic of the night or the sense of freedom that Regina had felt, dancing in the darkness with an unknown partner. If only he could re-create that moment, he would be the happiest of men!
The deserted garden beckoned and Robert made his way down the path. Duty dictated his presence in the ballroom, but he would not be missed in the crush of guests if he tarried a bit longer in the soft night air. Perhaps he would sit on his favorite bench for a moment and gather his jumbled thoughts.
If the fates were with him on this lovely evening, his mind would clear and he would reach a decision regarding his future.
As Robert approached the marble bench, he saw a flicker of movement in the distance. A young lady was dancing on the grass, moving gracefully to the strains of a waltz. Robert’s breath caught in his throat and he made not a sound as he moved closer. Could such magic occur twice in a single lifetime? Could the dancer be his Diana?
The darkness was deep, under the trees, as Robert bowed and offered his arm. There was a moment of perfect stillness, when time seemed to cease its forward march, and then she accepted his offer.
Robert could not see her face as they danced, but the feel of her in his arms was seductively familiar. It was his Diana and his heart beat fast as he held her much closer than propriety allowed.
She made no protest, melting against him as their feet moved to the music. It was magic and Robert’s smile grew to consume his whole being as he held the woman he loved in his arms.
Melissa’s happiness knew no bounds as they danced across the thick carpet of grass. It was the duke and she was in his arms once again! No thought crossed her mind, no care pierced her heart as they moved in a perfect rhythm. The moment was magical and she wished with all her heart that it could last forever.
But the music ended and with it came the unwelcome return of reality. She was in the arms of Regina’s intended. Oh, he had not yet declared for her stepsister, but her action was improper nonetheless. Melissa made to withdraw but his arms tightened around her.
“My dear, Regina.” The duke’s voice was low and filled with tender feeling. “I’ve found you again, my darling Diana, just like that first night on Lady Beckworth’s balcony. I have loved you since the moment I held you in my arms.”
Melissa’s mind whirled in shocked circles. The duke thought she was Regina! When he next saw her stepsister he would be certain to mention the two dances they had shared in the darkness! Regina, the soul of honesty, would deny that they had ever danced in such a manner and the duke would come to realize that Regina was not the woman that he had held in his arms. His sense of honor would demand that he find this mystery woman and he would search for her, leaving Regina heartbroken!
Suddenly a solution occurred to Melissa and she breathed a sigh of relief. All would be saved if she could keep the duke from mentioning these magic moments to Regina.
“Diana, my goddess, I must be certain. Do you love me as well?”
Melissa blinked back tears of sadness and reached up to touch the duke’s face. “Yes, I love you. I love you more than you will ever know.”
The duke bent his head and as his lips touched hers, Melissa sighed in blissful surrender. How she wished that she could reveal herself, but that was not to be. She would not be the cause of tragedy for her beloved stepsister. The duke must continue to think that she was Regina. It was best for all concerned.
All the longing that filled her soul, all the pathos at the thought of relinquishing the only man she had ever loved, was contained in this single kiss. Melissa gave the duke her heart, knowing full well that it would be broken beyond any mending.
The duke’s arms tightened around her and their kiss deepened. It was as if he could sense that all her hopes and dreams, her solemn vow that she would belong to no other, were his for the taking.
Melissa sighed, her breath warm against the duke’s lips. She was nearly undone in this magical moment as they clung together in a circle of love. This was the beginning and the end of Melissa’s joy and she held fast to the duke as if he were a lifeline tossed to a sailor in a troubled sea.
The stars whirled above them, the wind caressed them, the
very leaves on the trees whispered endearments. Melissa’s resolve threatened to fade as the kiss consumed her and she trembled and sighed in her love’s arms. But Melissa’s concern for her stepsister was strong and at last she ended the kiss. She pulled the duke close, for the last time, and whispered in his ear. “This must be our secret moment. You must give me your promise never to speak of it again, even when we are alone.”