What else had she neglected?
That he would be wary.
As she met his eyes in the dance, she recognized that. Of course her quixotic actions must appear suspicious. As they joined hands and passed, she wondered what he feared. What did he think she wanted for her twenty thousand pounds?
And what—even more fascinating—would he be willing to do for it?
She danced back toward him, wicked thoughts stirring despite every attempt to bury them deep in her mind. They linked arms in an allemande, and turned, eye to eye, bodies moving in harmony.
A sudden awareness rippled through her of exactly what she could demand from him in service—for six long weeks. She knew her rare color was building, and spun off to the next gentleman with relief.
She’d never thought of such a thing when she’d planned this. Never! She must immediately put it out of her mind. It would be both foolish and wicked. She was supposed to be rescuing him, not exploiting him, and he was eight years her junior.
She fiercely concentrated on the present, on the weaving steps of the dance. She couldn’t help but watch, however, as he danced with other women in the set. She was not alone in her reaction. Each one, young or old, responded with a brightening of the eyes, a widening of the smile.
He was a flirt. A handsome, instinctive flirt whom women could not resist responding to. She’d not anticipated that, either.She’d known the world would assume she was buying youth, but not that she had been charmed out of her wits and money.
The idea was so repulsive that she wanted to cry halt now. He could have the money and go to hell or heaven—
Then he was back to partner her. As they stepped together, first one way then the other, he said softly, “Am I supposed to fall madly in love with you, or is this a more considered affair?”
Mouth dry, eyes locked with his, she said, “Madly in love. Why not?” If she was going to be thought a fool, she’d rather be thought a mad one.
His eyes held hers, and then, as the dance moved him on, he lingered for a speaking moment. Fascinated, she realized she was doing the same thing, and hastily looked at her new partner, Sir Watkins Dore, to see an understanding smile.
“A handsome rascal,” the middle-aged man remarked, “but penniless and with a taste for the bottle and the tables, dear lady. A word to the wise.”
From there on, Maria passed through the dance unable to block the mortifying awareness that everyone thought they were witnessing a powerful attraction between an older woman and a charming young rascal.
She couldn’t blame Vandeimen. He was following her instructions to the letter. Though smiling and polite, he had somehow muted his effect on the other ladies, and turned it all on her. Often her eyes collided with his intent ones. It was hard for her not to believe that she had suddenly become the center of his universe.
When the dance ended and she curtsied as he bowed, she knew all eyes were on them. It was excruciatingly hard not to say something cutting, or behave in a chilly manner to show that she was not a gullible fool. As it was, she let him place her hand in the crook of his arm, and strolled with him.
“Everyone’s watching,” she said, though she knew she shouldn’t. She was in control of this adventure, wasn’t she?
“I’m sure you are watched anyway, Golden Lily.”
“I’m used to that, but not to this.” How absurd to feel that she could talk honestly to him like this. Of course, apart from Harriette, he was the only one aware of their purpose. “I’m probably not looking as dazzled as I should.”
“I’ll be dazzled for both of us.” When she glanced sideways at him, she saw how his smiling eyes were intent on her. “Some wariness on your part is doubtless realistic,” he added. “You are too wise to actually marry me, after all.”
She smiled at the joke, but it pressed on an old wound. Her feelings were too like the lunatic infatuations she’d succumbed to when young, culminating in Maurice. She had a weakness for dashing, handsome, dangerous men, but she was no longer young and silly. Had she learned nothing?
Cool air startled her back to the immediate, and she realized he had led her out onto a small balcony. They were still in view, but it gave some protection from being overheard. It also must cause more talk.
What point in balking, though? She was about to be society’s favorite topic of amusement for six long weeks. It was a price she would pay to right a wrong.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, wafting her fan and gazing out over the lamplit garden below.
“You thought I wouldn’t pay my debt?”
A sudden chill in his voice made her turn to him. “I didn’t mean it that way. You were... The need to—”
“Madam, you have bought me—body, mind, and most of my soul—for six weeks. I will go where you command, speak as you wish, act as you instruct, so long as it does not offend the part of my soul I have retained.”
Oh dear. Pain and wounded pride. She must remember that though war had aged him in many ways, he could still be tender in others.
“Excellent,” she said coolly, returning to the safe contemplation of the garden. “You are playing your part well, my lord, so please continue to act as if you were intent on winning me.” She glanced back with a carefully calculated smile. “I doubt that will hazard your immortal soul.”
