Dangerous in diamonds, p.15
Dangerous in Diamonds, page 15
Everyone had noticed? Daphne hoped Celia only meant their friends. Her and Verity and, at worst, their husbands.
Of course, there had been those two invitations . . .
“You appear very concerned, Daphne. Tell the man that you will not have him, if you are not interested in his intentions.”
If?
“I have told him. I have even been rude about it. He does not hear me.”
“Perhaps he sees something in your reactions to him that have convinced him otherwise?”
Daphne felt her face warming. Celia’s blue eyes widened.
“Are you blushing? You never blush. Oh, my.” She giggled behind her hand. “Mrs. Joyes, have you been naughty?”
“If I have not remained strictly proper, I can be forgiven, I think.” Not strictly proper was hardly adequate. “He is just so overwhelming. Relentless. I never appreciated all those references to women having their walls breached, like such things are battles or sieges, but I tell you, Celia, this man has managed to exhaust my defenses.”
“Well, he is not without appeal. I expect you find him exciting?”
“Yes, I do. There, I have said it. For many reasons I dare not be so rash as to succumb to his appeal, but—I am losing the ability to explain why, even to myself, when he plays his games.” She looked down miserably. “He can be very persuasive in the worst ways, I am embarrassed to admit.”
“Do you need an excuse to put him off until you buttress your defenses? Is that the problem?”
“Yes. Exactly. He will lose interest soon, I am sure. I only need to discourage him until he does.” Or until she journeyed north. She would do so very soon, she had decided. To see Margaret and ask those private questions and to reassure herself about matters up there.
Celia assumed the very worldly expression that she could at times. Five years ago, when Celia joined The Rarest Blooms, Daphne had found that expression disconcerting. Sometimes she still did.
“Putting him off is easy enough to effect,” Celia said.
“It is?”
“What I have in mind will not work forever, but it should at least delay a determined assault. Instruct your man to take me home. While we ride, I will tell you what to say to Castleford today.”
Daphne presented herself at Castleford’s door a little after five o’clock. The captain of the guard handed her over to a minion at once, and the footman escorted her through the house’s first level.
They emerged at the other side on a low terrace that overlooked the gardens. There, in the middle of the flowers and plantings, on a circle of lawn, stood a large tent. It bore a striking resemblance to the pavilions that Castleford had erected on his river barge. The ones in which their friends had enjoyed marital bliss.
The man was not being subtle. Daphne tried hard to fortify her defenses as she walked the meandering path that took her to that tent.
A flap had been fastened open. She peered inside and let her eyes adjust to the dim light. She noticed the thick netting that circled the top of the tent walls, allowing in air. She could not miss the table and chairs, or, up against the tent’s billowing walls, the wide chaise longue decorated with many pillows and looking like a sultan’s bed in this setting.
Castleford came forward to greet her.
“I thought the day should not be spent in a study,” he explained. “It is far cooler out here, and since we are not alone inside, proprieties are being maintained in the strictest sort of way.”
She laughed. They were not being maintained even in the loosest way, and he knew it.
He was in dishabille again. Not as bad as when he received her in a morning coat, but there was nothing formal in his attire. No frock coat covered his shirt and waistcoat, and his cravat had been tied into the most casual, loose knot. He appeared every inch the dangerous rogue he was. She decided that he had planned that, to put her at a disadvantage again.
Wine and lemonade waited on the table. She chose some of the latter and accepted a comfortable chair with its back to that sultan’s bed.
“You are shameless,” she said. “Really, you are.”
“See how well you have come to understand me? It has been years, I believe, since any woman has known so well what she has in me.”
“Oh, I know what I have in you. If you have some notion that I am going to play a role today in some fantasy about a seraglio, please disabuse yourself of that idea.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Mischievously. “Is that a scold?”
“No!” She veered back in alarm, lest he conclude he had leave to grab her now.
He did not laugh at her reaction, but it amused him.
“Are you sure you would not like some wine?”
“I am very sure that I would not like some wine. This is not a social call. You wrote about needing to talk about the property, so I am here. A business meeting was needed, you indicated in your letter.”
“Did I? Yes, quite right.” He folded his arms and stretched out his legs. She wondered if he took that pose when meeting with the prime minister or prince regent. Probably.
“Let me see.... Mr. Edwards writes that the examination of the property continues at a pace, and thus far nothing of note has been found. He says it should not take more than another fortnight or so.”
“Another fortnight or so? I think these men you sent are enjoying too much country air at your expense, if it takes that long.”
“It must be done methodically and carefully, or it will have to be done over. That would leave you here in London for months. We don’t want that, do we?”
“I am beginning to think this would all have been decided faster if I never came up to town. It is now sounding as if it will be months before I know my fate.”
He studied her. He looked at her so specifically that she stirred, even though there was nothing seductive in his gaze.
“Allow me to remove your fears about your fate, Mrs. Joyes. Should I conclude that you can no longer use that property, I will move you to another that is at least as good, and even construct another greenhouse for your use.”
She had not expected that. He managed to astonish her still, sometimes. She gazed down at her hands in her lap while she accommodated what this abrupt generosity did to her.
The weight of worrying about The Rarest Blooms drained away, leaving her almost empty with its passing, since it had preoccupied her so much. The breeze sifting through the tent seemed to enter her heart with its cool, light flow.
This promise was not a small thing. True, she would have to reestablish the gardens, so it was not as perfect a solution as staying where she was. However, suddenly the future stretched securely and sure, not like a path lost in the near distance in a dank mist.
All of her plans resurrected, now that they could, exciting her. Moving her. Her immediate plans, and even the special ones for the future that had been little more than dreams for years. He had no idea what he had just given her, of course. A man with his privilege and wealth would never understand how just knowing one had a permanent home could affect everything in one’s life.
His boots moved back. He leaned toward her. His hand appeared on the table near her, then left. A small box now rested in front of her, opened. Inside it, two stunning diamond ear bobs rested on a bed of velvet. They flashed in the low light.
“You are too generous,” she said, carefully. “You have already given me a great gift with your reassurance. To add these is too much.”
“These are old gifts, not from today. They are only being delivered today.”
“I cannot accept them. Please do not be insulted.” She truly did not want to offend him right now, and not only because he had taken this weight from her soul.
“I am not insulted, but you have already accepted them. Remember? You certainly did not refuse them.”
“I understand how you may have misunderstood my silence when you mentioned them. However, I am not befuddled by wine this evening.”
“You were not befuddled on the barge.”
“I was thoroughly befuddled. Foxed. I would have never, ever been so . . . wicked, otherwise.”
“Nonsense. You loved being wicked. I know of what I speak, so do not try to be a fraud with me. I am a connoisseur of inebriation and wickedness, and you were not too much the first to be ignorant of embracing the latter. You were pleasantly relaxed but not thoroughly foxed.”
She felt her face warming. “A gentleman would allow a lady her excuses, it seems to me.”
“Fine. If you require wine to have an excuse, I will pour you some.”
“No!”
He just waited for more. He watched her in that seductive way he could call up at will, where nothing ostensibly changed, but it was just there, in the air, the appeal that led a woman to think of him in sensual terms. There should be a law against a man being able to do that. She felt her armor falling off, item by item, under that gaze.
She would try honesty first. He had been sympathetic today, so far. He might be still.
“I believe that you have misunderstood, due to the wine and my bad behavior, and that you now think . . . well, you assume that with these diamonds that . . .”
He just looked at her. He did not show any inclination to help her by showing he understood the rest. He just let her twist in the wind at the end of her words.
“It would be most unwise for me to be befuddled again, whether by wine or diamonds. I do not choose to be wicked with you anymore.”
No insult showed in his expression. Rather, she saw curiosity claim him. That could be more dangerous, she knew.
He dropped his elbow on the table, propped his chin on his hand, and considered her. “What an interesting woman you are. It is not shyness that makes you refuse me on all counts, I do not think. Or lack of desire. Do not protest that point, please. I will go to France and enter a monastery if I cannot recognize desire in a woman by now. As for your ability to respond to pleasure, well, we settled that question on the barge. So, what is your objection when it is very obvious that we want each other? Considering how I have suffered, I claim a right to know.”
When she had thought of honesty being a good idea, she had not expected quite this much to be required of her. What would he think if she answered with the whole truth? If she satisfied all his curiosity?
She had never explained herself to anyone before, of course. Perhaps, if Latham had not returned to London, she might have considered it now. Only she did not trust Castleford, or anyone, to know the truth and keep it private.
She picked over his little speech, to find something to say. “I do not think it is very obvious that we want—”
His dramatic sigh cut her off. He just looked at her, expecting an answer.
Rather suddenly she found herself at that point where she was hard-pressed to come up with a reason that made sense, that he would not demolish with ease, and that she wanted to share. Bereft of an excuse, she used Celia’s advice for delaying this pursuit.
“You are known to frequent brothels, sir. For my health alone, it would be most unwise to succumb to your blandishments.”
She stunned him. At least she hoped that was the explanation for the way his face froze. Not only stunned but dumbfounded, apparently. He stood up and looked down on her, speechless. Then he walked away.
She felt obliged to stand too. She saw him near the open flap, appearing very thoughtful and, she regretfully noted, angry. Celia had warned he would not take it well. That was an understatement.
His attention settled on her again. A bemused half smile broke, but danger lurked in those eyes. “Mrs. Joyes, did I hear correctly? Are you accusing me of being diseased?”
“The possibility is there. That is all I am saying. One cannot be too careful.”
“I agree. Which is why I am most careful. I assure you that I am not a danger to you.”
She swallowed hard. “One never knows.”
His gaze sharpened. “One most certainly knows.”
“The results of recent debauches may not be apparent yet to you.” She had no idea if that was even true. She just trusted that Celia’s reference to at least a reprieve referred to something having to do with that.
He sighed audibly. Not in exasperation, the way he normally did. This deep exhale sounded too much like a man seeking to keep his temper in check.
“Mrs. Joyes,” he said with strained calm. “There are certain establishments known to be fastidious regarding the health of the women who work there. This is why I am writing my book—so men coming to town can be directed to such places and not find themselves lured into others. I limit myself to such establishments, as do all men of good sense.” He sighed again. His jaw twitched. “Furthermore, there are steps to protect oneself from such disease, which I am known to take.” He sighed once more, then scowled. “Damnation, I cannot believe I am explaining this as if you have a right to hear it.”
“Book or no, steps or no, I dare not consider a liaison under the circumstances.”
His eyes narrowed on her. His expression hardened. He advanced toward her, and she instinctively backed up. If she ever saw Castleford this angry again, she hoped it was from far away.
He subjected her eyes to a deep scrutiny. “So you have been dodging me because of this. I suppose, with the stories you have heard, there is some sense in denying us both out of fear of the worst.”
“I am relieved that you understand. I think that, under the circumstances, it would be better if I took my leave now and—”
“Will a physician’s letter attesting to my health satisfy you?”
She had to firm her jaw to resist gaping at him.
“It would be presumptuous of me to expect you to procure one. Better if we just agreed that you will keep the diamonds, and I will keep my . . . privacy.”
“I do not mind procuring one. In fact, I insist on doing so. I will also get letters from the physicians who examine the inhabitants of the establishments that I have visited the last year.”
“How . . . thorough of you.”
“Answer my question. Will this satisfy your concerns?”
“I expect it would take a good while to obtain all that documentation. By then you will have set your sights elsewhere, anyway, so it is rather silly for us to agree that—”
“Damn it, Daphne, will it satisfy you or not? Is this a true objection?”
“Yes.” It had become one. How reckless not to have thought of such a thing before. She felt very fortunate that one of her best friends was the daughter of a courtesan.
“I will concede that while I know this is unnecessary, you have no way to be sure,” he said. “Therefore, I will see to it, and I will not attempt to thoroughly seduce you until I can reassure you.”
“Thank you. That is very thoughtful.” Assuming that she had just ended their conversation and most likely his pursuit, she turned to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I would say our business is finished, Your Grace. All of it, for some time. At least a week, I would guess. Or perhaps ten days.” Or forever.
“The hell it is.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. She almost sailed through the air. She landed on top of him, on his lap, where he had sat in a chair.
He began to kiss her. Startled, she pressed against his chest and angled her head away.
“What—we just agreed you would not—”
“Not thoroughly seduce you. I did not say I would not seduce you less than thoroughly. Surely you and Captain Joyes enjoyed each other on occasion without intercourse.”
She looked at him.
“No? Ah. Well, you already know that you can know the heights of pleasure that way. We only need to make it mutual this time. Besides, you promised me that I would see you in these diamonds, and nothing else.” He handed the box to her while holding her firmly in place with his other arm. “Put them on.”
She refused to take it. “I did not promise that. You promised that.”
“And I am always good to my word. Put them on.”
She had no intention of being seen in diamonds and nothing else. She squirmed to get loose.
“If you think I am so stupid as to believe I could take off my clothes and you would respect my preference not to—well, not to, then you are a madman.” She pried at his embracing arm. “You think far too highly of yourself and could use a few lessons on being a gentleman.”
“I just heard a scold. How convenient your behavior can be.” He set aside the box and proved what he meant by kissing her.
She managed a few more squirms of resistance after that, but it was very hard to truly fight something that your weaker self remembered as a wonderful thrill. Her mind kept scolding him and herself, but her body abandoned the battle in a disgraceful mutiny.
The pleasure was just too luscious. That was the last clear thought she had, and it was more an excuse than it was an argument for restraint. The thrills distracted her fast. It was as if her experience on the barge had only made her more sensitive and less able to deny herself.
Everything happened more rapidly. The heat escalated fast. His hands were on her from the start, caressing her body, encouraging the arousal that left her weak.
The little resistance that remained flowed away as the warmth and excitement flowed down. She hooked one tether of consciousness to their conversation and his promise of restraint and let herself drift on the currents of sensation, floating at the glorious freedom.
Yes, she whispered to herself as his mouth scorched her neck and chest. Yes, as his fine hand raised shudders in her while it smoothed over her thighs and waist and finally over her breasts.
His fingers rubbed her through her garments, and sensuality’s daze descended on her. That special tension filled her body and tightened more with each wicked tease on her breasts. Soon she inched toward desperation. And so it took her a while to realize the kisses had stopped.
She blinked her eyes open when she did, to find Castleford watching her. Not with triumph or his own desperation but rather with curiosity. She had a moment of lucidity in which she remembered how dangerous his curiosity could be and that she had come here today determined to discourage it.
