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“Look there…” he said pointing with his chin. “Now there is someone you might want to drop your handkerchief in front of.” He hurriedly changed the subject.
She wrinkled her nose, and looked at another very handsome beau. “No, but I think that one…” She indicated with her chin. “Look, I like the yellow of his hair and the way it falls across his forehead…”
“You don’t … he looks twelve years old!” Tarrant laughed out loud as they watched the young man trip and spill his punch onto the dowager at his side. “No, that one would never be able to brandish a pistol in the dead of night and hold a carriage at bay.”
She sobered at once. “Stop it. Oh … how can you toy with me in this dreadful manner? I own that I am in your debt, my lord, what more do you want of me?”
“Ah, you own to it, but will you pay up when I call for it? I think not.” He eyed her, trying to take her measure.
Later, when he returned her to her aunt, he bent and whispered in her ear, “An answer … will you come to me when I ask? Will you repay the debt you owe—for if you like, I can call in my marker, as you earlier called it, as soon as we can arrange the time…” He was more than teasing her; he was attempting to get her to renege.
She put up her chin, “I do not break my word … to anyone, not even a scoundrel, for you are more than the rakehell Hotspur, you are the scoundrel Hotspur. Who else would have taken such a promise?”
He felt the flame of irritation sprint through him, and he bent low over her hand and said softly, “Excellent, you will do well to remember it.”
All at once and before he had released her hand, she felt a wave of dizziness. He grabbed hold of her and whispered, “Taffeta, what is it? Are you all right?”
“Taffeta, Taffeta…” Her aunt touched her cheek and turned to Tarrant. “We need to find her a chair…”
He watched as she snapped herself out of whatever was wrong, and he saw that it had taken extreme effort. She pulled away from him and looked up at his face, blushing until even her lovely neck went pink.
Just what happened? he wondered.
Chapter Five
Taffy sat back and thought about the moment when Tarrant had been returning her to her aunt. What must he have thought?
She had suddenly been overtaken by one of her visions, and it had been so real. Usually they unfolded before her like a play on a stage, but in this one, she wasn’t there as an observer, she was just there as the participant.
They were in a hayloft, and she was naked, lying back against a wool knit blanket. She was looking up at him, at his huge throbbing staff, and it wasn’t the first time they had been together like this. They were lovers!
No. She wasn’t going to allow this to happen. Even if she had to give herself to him to keep him quiet about her uncle and brother … and her; it would be that one time only…
There with Tarrant, she knew she had to get out of her vision, and she had managed to do that, but not before he lowered himself to her, brushed her mouth with his warm sensual lips, and whispered, “Sweet sunbeam…”
Her aunt had called to her, helping her to break from the vision, and they had found her a chair. She had been filled with heat, not because of her vision, but because in her vision, she had welcomed his touch…
Now, the morning after the ball, Taffy tried to vanquish this memory
as she watched her aunt preen and compliment herself on the success of her ball. She found herself squeezed as her aunt hugged her and declared jovially, “La, but all of London will be talking about it for weeks to come. I was so proud of you. Taffeta, imagine, dancing with the Hotspur … twice!” She clucked and went to the fireplace, poked at it, and turned to Taffy to add, “It bordered on indecent … twice with the same man, and that man, Lord Tarrant! La, my dear, well done.”
“Aunt Sissy, you make too much of it.” Taffeta laughed at her antics and bit into a biscuit.
“La, but I do not. You two whirled around the dance floor. It was Tarrant’s second waltz with you—and they are calling you the new beauty! You have become the talk of the season.”
“Oh aunt, it is all nonsense.”
Her aunt eyed her, “You are a diamond—la, child and your taste in clothing is perfection. That is a very fetching morning gown. The blue draws on the gray color of your eyes … and the fit is very alluring. Fetching, very fetching, for I suspect we shall soon have morning callers.”
Taffy laughed and waved this off, “Thank you, but I do hope not. It is so pleasant just to sit quietly about this morning. I hardly slept last night.”
As though to prove her aunt a fortune teller, Jarvis, their butler, appeared at that moment and announced, “Miss Catherine Frome asking to see Lady Taffeta.”
“Cath? Here…” Taffy jumped up with excitement and said, “Yes, Jarvis … do show her in. Thank you.” She turned to her aunt, “Of all the wonderful things…”
“A school friend, dear?” asked her aunt.
“Yes, my very dearest…” And then Catherine entered the room.
