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"I believe that drink you gave me may be affecting my good sense," she muttered, thinking it the only excuse for how she could find this man attractive after having suffered under being his wife for a year. Besides, she was beginning to feel a little off balance, her thoughts a little slow and confused. Of course, she was also finding it suddenly overly hot and a touch airless in the room, but suspected that was from being in Dicky's arms. At the moment, they were as close as lovers, his body brushing against hers with each dance step, his one hand at her back, his arm encircling her, the other hand clasping her suddenly sweaty one . . . and his smel just kept wafting up her nose, sliding through her body, making her want to lean into him. That drink was definitely affecting her, she decided grimly.

"Perhaps I should take you outside for a breath of fresh air. "

"No!" Christiana said at once, instinct tel ing her that would be a very bad idea indeed. She was already terribly confused and flustered and it was difficult enough being this close to him in public, but out on the dark terrace, with the sparkly stars overhead and torchlight the only thing chasing back the shadows . . . No, Christiana felt sure the best thing she could do was put some distance between them so that she could start thinking straight again. Unfortunately, she would have to wait until the end of the waltz to do that.

"Are you sure?" Richard asked, pul ing back to look at her. "You are quite pale.

Perhaps some air would make you feel better. "

Christiana stared at him silently, her gaze moving over his handsome features with bewilderment. He was like a different person. His expression was kind and concerned instead of the cold mask she was used too, and certainly his behavior was nothing like the man she had been married to this last year. It was more like the man she'd thought she'd married, and was stirring up feelings Christiana had thought long dead.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked with confusion. "You are never nice to me. Why are you being nice now?"

Dicky reacted as if she'd struck him, his head jerking back as if under a physical blow, and then anger briefly crossed his face. He said quietly, "I apologize if my behavior has been less than kind this last year. Al I can say is I haven't been myself. " He glanced away, frowned, and then continued, "At the moment, I can't explain what has been occurring, but I can promise you things wil be different from now on and I wil do everything I can to protect you and make this last year up to you. "

Christiana stared at him with something like wonder. His words could have been plucked from one of the many hope-fil ed dreams she'd had this last year. They were words she'd longed to hear ever since the wedding and his horrid change in behavior and she had the sudden urge to pinch herself to be sure she wasn't dreaming now. But before she could, Dicky urged her closer against him to continue the dance. While she al owed him to lead her back into the rhythm of the music, her mind was awhirl with confusion. This was not the man she'd lived with this past year, but it was the man she'd thought she'd married, and his words were making hope rise within her foolish heart. Hope that perhaps there was an explanation for his previous behavior and that whatever had caused it was now over. Perhaps she could have the marriage she'd hoped for. Or perhaps she was deluding herself, and would get her hopes up, only to have them dashed again, Christiana worried. Unfortunately, it mattered little either way.

He was alive and was her husband. That meant that at the moment al she had was the hope that things would be different and her life would not continue as it had been since her wedding.

Christiana was distracted from her thoughts when Dicky's hand moved up and then down her back in an almost unconscious, soothing caress. At least, she suspected that was how he'd intended it, but it had an entirely different effect on her. Rather than soothe, it sent shivers up her back to her neck.

Confused by her body's reaction, she instinctively stepped back to try to put some space between them and bumped into someone. Richard pul ed her closer again and murmured, "I apologize. It has been some time since I danced. I am a little rusty at leading. "

Christiana glanced over her shoulder to offer an apology to whomever she'd bumped, and then glanced sharply back to Richard. The smal accident had been her fault for moving, yet he was taking the blame. That was completely unheard of prior to this. Dicky simply did not take blame for anything. In fact, Christiana usual y caught the blame for everything, even if it had nothing to do with her.

"No, it was me," she admitted, not one to al ow others to take the blame for her mistakes.

Dicky lowered his head and said with amusement, "My dance instructor would disagree most stringently with that. It is always the man's fault. He is the one leading, the one who is supposed to be steering you safely around the dance floor. "

Christiana bit her tongue and said nothing. Confusion was rife within her and it wasn't just because of the complete about-face in his attitude. He had spoken the words into her ear, his breath brushing the outer shel and sending startling shivers through her. She was also suddenly very aware of just how close he'd pul ed her after the smal accident. She was now plastered to him, her breasts against his chest, and his legs and hips brushing against her with every step. He had also let his hand slip lower on her back so that it now crested the upper curve of her behind. Al of this was stirring the oddest sensations in her, making her shiver and lon

g to press herself tighter stil against him. She even had the quick mad thought to wonder what it would be like if he slipped his hand a little lower, and pressed a little tighter so that their hips met more firmly. Even when courting she hadn't experienced these physical reactions to him and it was quite unsettling. Richard found himself repeatedly stealing glances at the woman in his arms. It seemed obvious from their brief exchange that she had no idea what George had done, and that the man she lived with and thought was her husband was actual y an imposter. It also seemed obvious that this last year of the sham marriage had not been a happy one for her, that his brother was treating her poorly. Christiana was as much a victim of George's machinations as he was and the revelations about to come out would not be pleasant ones. Scandal would fol ow as it was realized that the wedding had not been legal, that she wasn't actual y married at al since George was an impostor.

The thought made Richard angry al over again. It also made him want to do what he could to protect her. From what he could tel , Christiana deserved none of this.

She had married in good faith, but would now be ruined by it unless he could find a way to prevent that. His gaze slid over her troubled features. Had he real y thought her unattractive?

Richard now decided it had merely been her expression of shock on seeing him.

She had certainly grown more attractive as they'd danced. The first burst of anger she'd had earlier had put a natural bloom in her cheeks and a spark in her eyes that was almost arresting. The confusion and hurt that had fol owed as she'd reprimanded him for taking her father to a gaming hel had made him want to comfort and hold her closer. Now she appeared a touch flustered. Hectic color had bloomed in her cheeks, and she was nibbling her lower lip in a rather adorable fashion.

However, she was also much more relaxed in his arms, her body almost fluid rather than the stiff wooden woman he'd first led to the dance floor. The swift changes were fascinating to him and he found himself wondering what she would look like under the influence of other moods and passions. For instance, how would she look in his bed, with desire making her sloe eyed, and her lovely blonde hair spread out on a pil ow?

These thoughts coursing through his mind, Richard almost without realizing it let his hand slide a little lower to curve over her behind and urge her tighter against his hips. The effect was rather startling. Christiana didn't pul back, but gasped and shivered, her eyes dropping closed as their hips met and they both became aware of the hardness he hadn't realized had grown between them.

"Husband?"

The word was a breathy sigh, and Richard smiled and lowered his head, deliberately al owing his breath to brush her ear as he said, "Yes?"

"I - Oh," she paused as he nipped at her ear, and then said a little shakily, "I think

. . . "

"What do you think?" he asked, nipping at her ear again and enjoying the shudder it sent through her. It made him grow even harder.

"I think the music has stopped," she managed to get out in a strangled tone even as her hands tightened on his hand and shoulder. Richard stil ed, released the earlobe he'd captured between his teeth, and then straightened to glance around. The music had indeed stopped and most of the dancers had left the dance floor while others were stil flowing past them to leave it as wel . His gaze shifted back to Christiana, noting how flushed she was and the way she was nibbling at her lips. She hadn't pul ed free of his embrace, however, and he had a sudden urge to nibble on those lips himself, so was about to suggest again that they go out on the balcony for some air when someone suddenly appeared beside them.

"I believe I was promised the next dance. "

Richard stared blankly at the man who had approached them. He recognized him at once. Robert Maitland, Lord Langley. They had attended school together and been friends then, though they'd drifted apart afterward. The way Langley was looking at him now, however, was not friendly at al .

"Oh, yes, I'd almost forgotten," Christiana said in a voice that was high and strained and slipped from his arms to move to the man's side. He almost caught her arm to stop her, but then refrained. If the man was on her card for the next dance, she would have to dance it with him. It was considered the height of rudeness to do otherwise.

Nodding stiffly, Richard stepped out of the way and merely watched as the couple moved a little further away on the dance floor. His eyes narrowed slightly as he noted how comfortable the woman appeared to be with Langley as she went into his arms for the dance. She was also smiling at the man with a combination of relief and what could only be described as affection. It made Richard wonder about their relationship. It also caused a smal , surprising, pang of jealousy to slip through him.

Ridiculous, he told himself as he turned to move off the dance floor. She was nothing to him. While he found himself wanting to protect her, that was al . Other than that, he didn't even know her.

"You looked like you needed rescuing. "

Christiana smiled weakly and lifted her eyes to Robert as he moved her around the dance floor. He wasn't wrong there. She had been fal ing under her husband's spel , her body being assaulted by completely alien desires and wants. In fact, she'd been half a breath away from suggesting she did want to seek out the fresh air on the balcony after al when Robert had appeared. The problem was it hadn't been fresh air she'd been hoping to find. Christiana had hoped Richard might take her in his arms and kiss her there. That drink she'd had was obviously having some strange effects on her. She'd never felt this way toward Dicky before, even on their wedding night.

"Yes, I rather did need rescuing. Thank you," she murmured vaguely and glanced to where Richard now stood on the edge of the dance floor, fol owing them with burning eyes. She thought she could actual y feel a trail of warmth slide along her body as his eyes skated over her and quickly turned her head back to Robert as he spoke.

"I was surprised but happy to see that he final y let you attend a bal . "

Christiana didn't comment. Dicky hadn't exactly let her attend. However, she simply couldn't explain the events of that day to him. She couldn't even explain the events of the last few moments to herself. How had her general dislike and loathing of her husband turned to desire on the dance floor?

The combination of whiskey on an empty stomach and exhaustion from the day's events must have conspired to confuse and befuddle her, she reasoned

. . . and she was exhausted. It had been a very stressful day al told, and had simply grown more stressful when Dicky appeared here at the bal . Christiana had just begun to adjust to the fact that she was free of him and had enjoyed those precious hours of not worrying about what Dicky would say and do.

Yet now here he was alive and wel and she was suddenly attracted to him in a way she had never been before. Christiana hadn't even felt this way toward him during their courting. She'd never once wanted him to kiss her or pul her close then as she'd wanted during the waltz. In fact, she had come to realize that her feelings for the man during their courting had been more of a child's daydream than a woman's wishes. The courting had been al hearts and flowers, leading to a child's light fluffy dream of happy-ever-afters. However, the attraction she'd felt just now on the dance floor was much more raw and physical and left her bewildered and even a little scared. She had never experienced that with him before, but then while he had been ever charming before the marriage, he had never shown kindness and concern until now. There was something different about him tonight and she wondered to herself if his brush with death had somehow changed him. If perhaps that's what he'd meant by things being different now.

"Chrissy, there is something different about Dicky. "

Christiana blinked and peered up at Robert with surprise. It was as if he'd read her thoughts. Before she could say so, he added, "I have felt it for some time now. He's not the man I attended school with. "

Christiana frowned. Robert wasn't talking about his being different tonight then.

"How so?"

>

"Did you know I have been to see you three times the last few months and he has turned me away each time?"

She grimaced apologetical y, and admitted, "I only knew about two occasions and found out about those just this morning. I'm sorry. I hope you know I consider you like family and would never - "

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. "The point is that the Richard Fairgrave I knew was nothing like the pompous ass who took such delight in sending me away. It was more like his brother, George. "

Her eyebrows rose at mention of her husband's brother. George Fairgrave, the younger of the twin brothers by moments, had died in a fire just months before she had married Dicky. She tilted her head to the side and frowned. "Oh?"

Robert was silent for a moment, appearing uncomfortable, but final y met her gaze and asked uncomfortably, "Does he have a birthmark?"

Christiana raised her eyebrows. "Not that I've seen. Should he?"

He nodded grimly. "It's a smal strawberry on his left buttock. "

Her eyes widened and then she flushed. "Oh, wel , he may have one then, but I have never seen him without clothes. "

"You have not seen him . . . ?" Robert's voice died and he now flushed as wel , as he apparently realized what he was asking. Aware she was blushing furiously, Christiana glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Much to her relief Robert had steered them to a relatively open area on the dance floor and no one was near enough to hear. Stil , she scowled and murmured, "I think we should change the subject. It real y isn't proper to discuss - "

"No it isn't proper," Robert agreed quietly. "And despite how close we have always been, I wouldn't have brought it up, but it is very important. Please, trust me on that. If I am right, you could be in danger. "

She frowned at his words and glanced away, but then admitted, "He has simply never disrobed in front of me. "

"Not even on your wedding night?" he asked.

"On our wedding night he did not even take off his cravat," she admitted with embarrassment and then with some annoyance said, "And you are not his wife so how did you see this birthmark?"

"A group of us used to go skinny-dipping in a nearby lake back at school. He and I were among that group," he explained, and then asked gently, "He didn't even take off his cravat?"

She shook her head with irritation. It felt like her face was on fire now and she'd real y rather not discuss this. It just wasn't done.

"And he hasn't at any time since either?" Langley prodded.

"There hasn't been an 'any time since,' " Christiana admitted in little more than a whisper. That was her shame. Her husband found her so wanting that he had not visited her bed since her wedding night. She'd often wondered if she'd been terribly bad at it and that was why Dicky had suddenly gone cold on her and begun to treat her so poorly. Unfortunately, she hadn't had her mother to explain the matter of the marital bed to her and had been completely ignorant of what to do or expect so had lain in bed, unmoving and practical y not breathing until it was done. Fortunately, it had been quick. Perhaps had she known what to do things would have been different.

Or perhaps it would have been different had she experienced those feelings and sensations then that she'd had tonight while they were dancing, a little voice in her head spoke up. Christiana didn't think she'd have lain holding her breath and unmoving had she felt even a little of what she had tonight in his arms. She'd wanted to touch and kiss and do al sorts of things to the man she'd danced with.

"Can you try to see if he has the birthmark?" Robert asked quietly, drawing her from her thoughts. Christiana grimaced at the suggestion and admitted, "I'd real y rather not. "

"You don't have to actual y . . . erm . . . " He hesitated and then said instead, "If you were to enter his room while he was dressing or undressing you could see if he has it without . . . er . . . an 'any time since. ' "

Christiana wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Dicky did hate it when she entered any room he was in without gaining permission first.

"It is important," Robert assured her.

She glanced to him silently, and then said, "You suspect he doesn't have the birthmark, which suggests you believe he isn't Dicky at al ? You think Dicky is real y George?"

Langley nodded apologetical y. "I began to suspect it the first time I came to visit and he turned me away, but the second time just convinced me more. "

He scowled and shook his head. "I could just kick myself for not being there when he was courting you. If it is George and I'd spent any time around him back then I would have known at once. I could have saved you from al this misery. I - "

"Your father was dying, Robert. Of course you spent those last weeks at his side. Never blame yourself for that, marrying Dicky was my choice," she said firmly.

"Dicky," Robert said the name with disgust. "Richard hated that name. George is the only one who cal ed him that. "

Christiana frowned at this news. It was Richard, or the man they'd thought was Richard, who had insisted they al cal him Dicky. She preferred Richard herself.

"George was always a pompous little ass," Robert informed her grimly. "He was not wel liked at school and was only ever included in things because he was Richard's brother, which just made him act worse. He was envious of how wel liked Richard was and bitter that as the older twin Richard would gain the title on their father's death. " He sighed and then admitted quietly, "I suspect it was Richard who died in the fire and George just took his place. "

Christiana shook her head and pointed out, "But if it real y was Richard who died in the fire, George had no need to impersonate him. He would have gained everything anyway. "

"That's true, but . . . " Robert shook his head. "I suspect that wouldn't have been enough for George. He would have stil been George. Titled or not, and holding al the wealth or not wouldn't have made anyone respect or like him better and I think he envied that most about his brother. Everyone liked and trusted Richard. Being heir to the title and estate never affected Richard. He was natural y kind and considerate and everyone knew and appreciated that. "

Those last words resonated through Christiana's head. Richard was natural y kind and considerate and everyone knew and appreciated that . . . like she had on the dance floor just now. The man she'd just danced with had been surprisingly kind and considerate, and she had appreciated it. But he'd shown precious little of either attribute this last year. Was the man she'd married Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, or his twin, George? And if it was George, what would that mean to her?

Would their marriage be legal?

"Try to see if he has the birthmark," Robert said quietly. "If he doesn't, come to me at once no matter the hour. I shal handle everything after that. "

Christiana nodded unhappily and thought how much simpler life would be had her husband just had the good graces to stay dead . . . If he was her husband.

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