Wicked Delights of a Bridal Bed (9 page)

Sticking close to Claire, Grace and Meg, she was able to avoid any further conversations with Daphne, who tried once or twice to gain her attention. And then, the gentlemen arrived, strolling in with the last of their brandy in hand and the lingering aroma of cheroots on their clothes.

With the rain still drumming against the windowpanes, there was no possibility of taking an evening stroll in the gardens or engaging in any other outdoor entertainments. With an eager smile, Jessica Milbank stepped up to the pianoforte and gave a lively, well-executed performance. When she finished, someone suggested the idea of dancing, which was greeted with great enthusiasm. And to Jessica’s obvious relief, cousin Wilhelmina graciously offered to take her place at the pianoforte—the widowed Mrs. Byron declaring it was the young people who had the energy for such activities.

While several of the others in the room began arranging themselves for a cotillion, Mallory settled on the sofa next to Meg and sipped her tea.

Suddenly Niall Faversham appeared before her and bowed, his pale hair brushed back from his attractive face with casual disregard. “Lady Mallory, would you care to take a turn with me? I promise I shall be especially careful and not step on your toes.”

“I’m sure there’s no danger of that, Mr. Faversham,” she said, well aware of what an excellent dancer he was. “I thank you for your invitation, but I’m afraid I am not dancing tonight.”

“What’s this about not dancing?” declared Lord Howland, who stepped forward to join their small circle. “But you must dance, my dear Lady Mallory. With
me
!”

“I beg to differ, Howland,” Faversham complained. “I asked her first.”

“Yes, but she has refused you.” Howland grinned, displaying his teeth with their crooked upper incisors. “Obviously she was waiting until I arrived so I could ask her.”

“The devil you say,” Faversham retorted. “She only needs a moment more to reconsider her decision and say she will stand up with
me.
”

“I’m sure she’d sooner take to the floor with an orangutan.”

“Which is exactly why she’ll have no interest in you, what with that thatch of red on your head that you call hair.”

If Mallory hadn’t known they were friends, she might have been alarmed. Instead, she couldn’t help but smile over their bickering. “Gentlemen, you are both very kind to ask, but I simply must say—”

“Yes,” Meg interrupted. “Oh, do go on, Mallory, and choose one of them. If I didn’t have Oswald on board here,” she said, patting her mounded stomach, “I assure you I’d be dancing.”

“I thought you were calling the baby Neville?” Mallory observed.

“I was, but it’s Oswald now.” Meg shared a saucy wink with her that went completely over the heads of the two men.

“Listen to the wise counsel of your sister-in-law, my lady,” Lord Howland said. “Come say you will dance.”

“Yes, choose one of us as Lady Cade so eloquently suggested,” Mr. Faversham said. “Choose me.”

Mallory hesitated, wondering how she had come to such an unanticipated pass. Glancing out into the room, she searched for Adam. Her lips parted when she discovered him making his way onto the makeshift dance floor with Jessica Milbank on his arm.

Apparently, Jessica had given up on Drake—who’d taken convenient refuge on the far side of the room with Lord Edgewater and Lord Damson—and had transferred her interests elsewhere. That in itself didn’t surprise Mallory. What did was the fact that Adam had accepted her overtures.

Mallory’s brows lowered, her earlier conversation with Daphne replaying itself in her head. Had Daphne said something to Jessica about Adam? Had she mentioned perhaps that Mallory had renounced any claims to him, leaving Jessica free to invite his attentions. Which, she was, of course. But still, Adam and Jessica…it was almost unfathomable.

Mallory forced herself not to grimace, wishing now that she
had
gone upstairs after all. But she’d promised she would make more of an effort to join in, and what better way to do so than participating in the activity at hand.

“Very well,” Mallory said. “You have convinced me, and I shall dance.”

Faversham and Howland straightened to their tallest heights and squared their shoulders, each clearly vying to cut the most appealing figure.

“So, which one of us will you choose, Lady Mallory?” Lord Howland asked.

She shot another glance toward Adam and Jessica, her fingers curling into a fist when she saw Jessica playfully tap her fan against Adam’s chest, then toss back her head on a laugh.

“I’ll dance with you both,” Mallory declared, turning her attention back to her two admirers. “Mr. Faversham shall partner me first, since he made the earliest claim, and then you, Lord Howland.”

Although not wholly satisfied at having to share her favors, the two men nodded in agreement.

Mr. Faversham extended his arm. Rising from the sofa, Mallory let him lead her forward.

Pity has a lot to answer for,
Adam thought, as he affixed a polite expression to his face and listened to Jessica Milbank regale him with a list of all her favorite haunts in London—most of which happened to be millinery shops.

After she’d been excused from the duty of playing piano for the assembled company, Jessica had walked out into the center of the room and waited, clearly expecting one of the gentlemen to ask her to dance. He’d watched as she cast a hopeful glance toward Drake, noticing his very determined interest in whatever Lord Edgewater was saying—despite the fact that he knew Drake couldn’t stand the other man’s Tory politics. Realizing that her first choice of partner wasn’t going to solicit her hand, she’d begun casting about for someone else. During her visual sweep of the room, her gaze had landed on Adam, and she’d sent him a painfully hopeful smile.

Aware that Mallory was settled comfortably on the sofa next to Meg, he decided to take pity and act the gallant toward her friend. After all, it was only one dance.

Unfortunately, Miss Milbank lit up as brightly as a small sun at his invitation, giggling and mincing and flirting with all her might, as they made their way to the floor. He was silently repeating his bit of optimistic rationalization regarding the promised dance with Miss Milbank when he glanced toward Mallory and felt his eyes go wide.

Flanking her on either side were Howland and Faversham, the pair obviously attempting to work their wiles on her.
Poor fellows,
he thought with amused sympathy, since he knew Mallory would refuse them, given that this was her first full evening back among company.

But then, not less than a minute later, she stood and accepted Faversham’s arm.

Adam’s mouth tightened, his eyebrows drawing into a severe downward slant.
Surely she hasn’t said yes.

He watched as the pair strolled forward to join the couples assembled for the dancing.
Sweet Jesu, it looks as if she has said yes!

“Is something amiss, my lord?” Jessica Milbank asked in a quiet voice, a small vee of concern wrinkling the bridge of her petite pug nose.

Glancing down, he realized he’d completely forgotten the young woman waiting at his side. Recovering immediately, he fashioned a smile. “Of course not, Miss Milbank. I am merely anxious for the dancing to begin.”

Her confidence returned. “Oh, it shouldn’t be long now, I expect. Only look at everyone who is taking part.”

And she was right, a full eight couples were gathered to partake in the lively entertainment. In addition to himself and Miss Milbank, there were Jack and Grace, Edward and Claire, Quentin and India, Lady Damson and Mr. Hughes—and Mallory and Faversham, of course. Some of the even younger set were joining in as well, since earlier Ava Byron and Claire had both agreed that there could be no real harm in letting the older girls escape the schoolroom for the evening. This left Leo to partner Ella Marsden, while Lawrence did the same for his cousin Anna.

Given the war injury that had left Cade with a limp, he no longer danced. But he didn’t seem to mind, especially since he’d slipped into Mallory’s abandoned spot on the sofa next to Meg. The couple sat murmuring to each other, their heads bent close, as if they were courting rather than starting the third year of their marriage.

“Is everyone ready to begin?” Cousin Wilhelmina called in a happy voice from her place at the pianoforte.

“We are indeed, cousin,” Leo replied. “Play us something rollicking.”

Chuckles rose at his exuberance as everyone arranged themselves into the proper positions. To Adam’s frustration, he found himself at one end of the room, while Mallory stood at the other. Briefly, he met her gaze. Then the music began and, seconds after, the first steps of the dance.

Miss Milbank resumed her patter, politeness forcing him to evince enough interest that she wouldn’t realize that his real thoughts lay elsewhere. When he could, he glanced toward Mallory, watching as Faversham skillfully led her in the lively movements, ones that soon added a pretty pink to her cheeks.

By the time the first dance concluded, Mallory’s eyes were bright, a hint of a smile hovering on her lips.
She has always loved to dance,
Adam thought as he bowed to Jessica Milbank and she curtseyed back.

With skillful finesse, he soon managed to detach himself from Miss Milbank in a friendly way, putting her in the hands of Mr. Hughes for the next dance. The duke’s young secretary looked a tad dazed by the introduction, but as Adam strode away, Hughes seemed genuinely pleased with Miss Milbank’s companionship. And, if Adam guessed right, she with his.

Crossing to where Mallory stood, still conversing with Mr. Faversham, Adam made her a bow. “Lady Mallory. Would you care to stand up with me for the next set, assuming it hasn’t already been claimed?”

“Actually, it has,” Lord Howland said, inserting himself into their group. “The lady is promised to me. Is that not so, Lady Mallory?”

She met Adam’s gaze, the truth of Howland’s statement plain in her ocean-hued eyes. “Thank you for asking, but Lord Howland is right. The next dance is his.”

“So, be off with you, Gresham,” Howland said with a toothy smile. “I’ve already had to battle Faversham tonight for the lady’s favors. Don’t need you sniffing around her as well.”

“I’m not
sniffing
around anyone, and I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head,” Adam retorted. “There may be a great many canines in residence here at Braebourne, but Lady Mallory isn’t one of them.”

“Well, of course, she ain’t,” Howland blustered. “Never meant to imply such a thing. Lady Mallory, surely you don’t think that I would ever—”

“No, I know you would not,” she said, her eyes glinting as she shot Adam a look.

He gazed back, refusing to glance away. Crowding out the other men, including Howland, who was still sputtering over his remark, Adam stepped close to her. “I shall return once the next dance is done,” he murmured into her ear. “So don’t make any further promises to anyone but me.”

Her lips parted, surprise plain on her face.

Adam turned, Howland still mouthing assurances about Mallory’s beauty, grace and style. Cousin Wilhelmina began playing the next song soon after as couples paired up once again for the dance.

Rather than seek out a new partner, Adam went to the far side of the room. Taking up a spot with a good view of the dancing, he leaned his shoulder against the carved marble surround of the room’s massive fireplace. He couldn’t help but smile when he noticed Henry, and one of the other dogs—Handel, he thought—sleeping nearby on a comfortable bit of rug.

Quietly patient, Adam waited. As he did, Howland botched a step that made Mallory leap back to save her toes. Her gaze found Adam’s, and she hid a rueful grin before continuing the dance.

Finally, the tune ended, the dancers drawing to a halt once more. Straightening away from the mantel, Adam sauntered toward Mallory.

“Howland,” he said. “I believe it’s your turn now to go away. So, shoo.”

Howland ruffled up but offered no further challenge. Making Mallory a gracious bow, he turned his back on Adam and left the makeshift dance floor.

“I don’t think Lord Howland is terribly pleased with you at the moment,” Mallory said. “And here I thought the two of you were friends. Don’t you socialize with him at your club?”

“Quite frequently. Which is why I know he’ll bluster and glare at me for a day or two, then, like this weather we’re having, his mood will clear and all will be well again.”

She shook her head. “Men. I shall never understand the species even if I do have six brothers.”

“Men are easy to fathom. It’s women who are the true mystery.” Pausing, he cocked his head to one side. “But listen, if I am not mistaken, your cousin is practicing the opening strains to a waltz.”

“That’s not likely, considering she thinks the waltz is a scheme being perpetrated by the French in order to erode the moral fiber of the English population.”

Adam smiled. “Someone must have talked her into loosening her strictures.”

He watched as Mallory glanced toward her brother Leo, who was grinning like Lucifer himself, as he whispered something into Ella Marsden’s ear. The girl’s cheeks fired up, as if she’d been shoved into a kiln before a giggle flowed from her lips.

Mallory rolled her eyes heavenward. “Yes, let’s guess who.”

Before they had a chance to discuss the matter further, Cousin Wilhelmina played an opening flourish that signaled the beginning of a new set.

Taking Mallory into his arms, Adam swept her into the dance.

To his intense gratification, her cousin was indeed playing a waltz, which afforded him the opportunity to hold Mallory far closer than he would have been able to do otherwise. That’s why the new dance, which had only recently been imported from France, was causing such a stir. Pulling her another inch closer, he whirled her in a tight circle that drew an exhilarated gasp from her lips.

“Delightful, is it not?” he said.

She nodded and followed his lead, her skirts billowing outward in a coppery swirl, her aquamarine eyes alive with undisguised pleasure.

Adam guided her into one graceful turn after the next as they moved across the floor amid the rest of the dancers. But he was barely aware of the others, all his thoughts, all his emotions focused on the beautiful, wonderful woman in his arms.