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‘Yes?’ she said, braced for further difficult questions.
‘Forgive me, but my ardour—’ He leaned forward, caught her hands in his and pulled her to him. ‘You look so en chanting.’ And then he kissed her.
Ever since the moment when Hal had made love to her in the woodland glade, Julia had been dreaming about his kiss, the touch of his hands. It had never occurred to her that another man, one on the brink of proposing to her, would expect to kiss her, but obviously he would. She fought her instinctive recoil and closed her eyes.
Thomas Smyth’s lips were warm and dry and pressed lightly on hers. Was that it? Did he expect her to do something? With Hal, her instincts had taken over; now, she felt nothing. Julia pressed back tentatively, and he put his hands on her shoulders and held her. The pressure continued. Julia opened her eyes and found that his were closed. It was difficult to see properly at such close range, but he appeared to be enjoying the sensation.
She ought to concentrate. It was going to be her duty to kiss this man—and more. Her mind skittered away from the thought of any greater intimacy. He smelt quite nice, of plain soap and starch. He tasted of tooth powder and tea, neither of which were very exciting. It was all most respectful and not at all alarming.
Julia realized that what she wanted was not something respectful. She wanted Hal’s thoroughly shocking kiss, she wanted to be held force fully in strong arms, she wanted to be excited and alarmed and…ravished. Well, perhaps not that, exactly. She wanted the illusion of ravishment, to experience again the
sensation that the man holding her was barely in control of his emotions, he was so excited by what he was doing. She wanted Hal, wicked and experienced and intoxicated by her.
‘Forgive me.’
She was placed care fully back in her seat and Thomas was sitting looking at her, his eyes faintly glazed. Julia supposed that was flattering, although what they had done hardly seemed sufficient to glaze any man’s eyes.
‘Of course.’ She should be exhibiting maidenly confusion at what he would think was her first kiss: Julia dropped her gaze and managed a faint smile. She could not force a blush. Then she thought about Hal and felt her cheeks glow.
‘I was overcome by your beauty.’
She nearly looked up, incredulous. That really was coming it too strong! She looked well enough but she was no beauty either. Perhaps the poor man really was in love with her. How awful if he was. Her conscience gave her a painful nudge.
‘Oh look, here comes Mama.’ Julia had the lowering suspicion that her mother had left the carriage just so Thomas could kiss her.
‘Perhaps it is as well,’ he said, his voice thrumming with a passion that his kiss had most certainly not held.
‘Yes,’ Julia agreed. ‘Perhaps it is.’
Chapter Ten
Julia studied the guests mingling in the large salon at Lady Conynham’s party the next night. She had furbished up her ball gown with new ribbons, keeping the brand new one for Lady Richmond’s ball the following evening, and she felt she did not cut too poor a figure amongst the guests. All of the Ladies of the Parc were there of course, many of the dip lo mats and dozens of officers.
It was rumoured that the duke would be late, and that fact, in its turn, fostered even more rumours. Napoleon was on the march, some whispered. The French had crossed the frontier, or perhaps they were poised to do so. The Duchess of Richmond, it was said, had asked the duke if she should go ahead with her plans, and he had replied, ‘Duchess, you may give your ball with the greatest safety, without fear of interruption.’ So surely there was no need for concern?
‘Miss Tresilian, I was hoping to see you here.’ It was Captain Grey, smiling down at her, a comforting figure despite his height and fearsome whiskers. ‘I have something for you.’ He delved in his pocket and produced a tight roll of paper, handing it over under cover of a flower-filled urn. ‘Your winnings on Chiltern Lad.’
‘Thank you!’ It felt like quite a lot. Julia tucked it into her reticule, wishing she could count it. But she must not be seen taking money from a man.
‘Thank Carlow and that horse of his,’ he said with a grin. ‘May I fetch you some refreshments?’
‘I would like a glass of lemonade, but I will walk over to the buffet with you.’ She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, comfortable to be with a man for whom all she felt was mild liking. ‘Major Carlow rides very well.’
‘He has no nerves, the devil’s own courage and the lightest hands I ever saw,’ his friend said warmly. ‘And so long as I can keep putting money on him, I am never going to be in need of funds.’
‘He said he was a lucky gambler,’ she observed, fanning herself as they made their way through the hot, crowded room. It was a sinful luxury to be able to talk about Hal.
‘He is. Lucky with cards, lucky in er… Just generally lucky,’ the captain finished lamely.
‘In love?’ Julia could not resist teasing him even if the thought was painful. But of course Hal was involved with women. Lots of them, she was sure. And love would not come into those liaisons. They would be relationships of pure passion. She felt quite strange inside, even thinking about it.
Captain Grey made an uncomfortable, throat-clearing noise and covered it by hailing a waiter. Julia sipped her lemonade and wondered if Hal was there.
‘Miss Tresilian,’ said a voice behind her. She took such a sharp breath that the lemonade went up her nose, leaving her coughing and spluttering.
‘Lord, I am sorry! Here, take my handkerchief.’ Through streaming eyes, she saw Hal produce an immaculate white square and shake it out.
‘Thank you.’ She buried her face in it, certain that half the guests would be staring at the exhibition she was making of herself. One of the men took her elbow. She looked over the edge of the linen and saw it was Hal.
