Giving up hope of quick exit, Dan sat down. ‘Miss Summerby appeared to enjoy herself,’ he said, ‘and from now on, I don’t think she will have any trouble being accepted in the neighbourhood.’
‘So, you’ve done your duty? You’ve cancelled out any guilt you might feel?’
‘Guilt?’ Dan spoke sharply.
Oliver waved a hand. ‘Well, knowing you, I just hope you haven’t opened her up to any further kind of trouble.’
Oliver was giving him a warning, Dan realised. Hell, it was almost as if he’d guessed what had happened. ‘I suppose you’re thinking,’ he said, ‘that by taking her there, I might be keeping the gossips busier than ever?’
‘She’s not exactly your usual type of female. And admit it, brother. You’re rather intrigued by her, aren’t you?’
‘It’s up to her if we see one another again,’ Dan said a little curtly. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I really am quite tired.’
‘Of course,’ said his brother. ‘Just one more thing. How did she look?’
How did shelook? Oh, God. He had a sudden vision of her in that amazing green ballgown, with her lovely face glowing in the light of the many candles. He remembered how he had kissed her and more in his carriage, and how she had unwittingly made him wild for her, made him desperate to ravish her then and there. For a few moments he’d been in danger of acting exactly like the kind of men he despised, who habitually visited the pleasure haunts of Covent Garden and chose a woman for their temporary gratification.
He said, ‘Actually, Miss Summerby caused quite a stir. Her gown suited her very well, and she took a lot of people by surprise. Now, I really must head upstairs. Goodnight, brother.’
‘Goodnight, Dan. Sleep well.’If your conscience will let you,Oliver’s tone implied.
Upstairs, Hamley awaited him and he didn’t ask Dan how the evening went because he knew better, but he did have something for him. ‘This letter arrived tonight by special post, my lord,’ he said. ‘I thought I would hand it to you personally.’
Dan took it from his valet and was about to put it aside till morning, but then, he saw the handwriting. Swiftly he opened it and yes, it was from Cecily. In it she wrote,Dan, I have news from France. News about your mother.
Damn. Nothing—nothing at all—could have prepared him for this.
At Clematis Villa, Kate had faced an interrogation also. ‘You must tell me all about the party,’ declared Harriet before Kate had even got through the hallway. ‘Were there a lot of people? Did the Earl drink a lot of champagne and introduce you to his disreputable friends?’
‘Harriet, you are letting your imagination run away with you. Since you ask, the party was nothing like those he held at his house. He drank very little and you saw, I think, that he was dressed most respectably.’
Harriet had put her head on one side to inspect her. ‘Well, you aren’t,’ she said bluntly.
‘What on earth do you mean?’
Harriet pointed. ‘Your hair looks as if you’ve been on the beach in a gale, and if you’re not careful, that dress will be slipping off your shoulders. Where, by the way, is your shawl?’
Oh, no.Kate dashed to the mirror and saw exactly what Harriet meant. She hauled up her dress, smoothed down her hair and tried to say lightly, ‘I must have left my shawl at the Darrows’ house, because it was very warm in there! And yes, for a while we were out in the garden, where there was a light breeze.’
‘You were out in the garden? With Lord Rivington?’
‘Oh, it was a popular spot for cooling down. I told you the house was warm.’
Harriet looked disbelieving. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea,’ she said.
Kate stood there a moment after she’d gone, because she certainly needed to cool down now.
She had loved being with the Earl tonight. She had loved the way he’d silenced that fool Jack Spencer, and when they’d danced outside, she had felt exhilarated and free. Then he’d gazed down at her and kissed her, which bore no comparison to that cruel kiss from the Viscount’s son; because it was better, a thousand times better than she could ever have imagined, and at long last she felt able to banish the sordid memory of that early humiliation.
There had been yet more, because in Dan’s carriage she had led him into a wanton embrace—yes, she had actually taken the lead in kissing him, and when he’d kissed her back, shehad allowed him to fondle her intimately. As she stood there in the hallway, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks again and she folded her arms across her still-tender breasts. His caresses and his teasing touch had—oh, God—led to a scandalous rush of pleasure that was still secretly rippling through her and she had realised—how could she not?—that he too was aroused. She had been warned years ago by Monica that if you allowed a man liberties—yes, that was her sister’s term, ‘liberties’—then you were in trouble. But she hadn’t realised how quickly she too could feel such a desperate longing, and Dan, experienced as he was in such matters, must have known it.
What had she done? What must he think of her?
‘I’ve made tea!’ Harriet called from the kitchen, and Kate went slowly to join her. ‘Are you quite all right?’ Harriet asked curiously. ‘Did you drink too much champagne, perhaps?’
‘Yes!’ Kate seized desperately on the excuse. ‘I had—oh, at least two glasses!’ She sipped furiously at her tea and almost burned her mouth.
‘Will you be seeing him again?’ asked Harriet.
