Auburn curls lay like a caress against her exposed neck.
Her pale blue eyes gleamed beneath the candlelight.
The couple seemed engaged in a
titillating conversation. They pressed closer and Chadwick narrowed his eyes.
The man placed his finger across her lips. Red hue dotted Brigitta’s cheeks.
Chadwick balled his fists at his
sides. The man’s audacity could not go without comment. As he approached the
couple, the music ended and they parted company. Brigitta returned to her
table, stroked her glass, and stared at the man’s retreating form.
Forgetting his desire to pummel
the man who had danced so shamelessly with his wife, Chadwick stepped forward. “Baroness
Stockport, may I have this dance?”
She drew her gaze away from the
stranger and glanced at him with a glazed look. “Excuse me?”
“Dance. May I have this dance?”
Her vision cleared but no
recognition showed in her expression as she rose, took his hand, and they
joined the dancers. He pursed his lips, fighting jealousy. How had she not
recognized his voice? His eyes? The lushness of his lips? He was stocked with
substantial qualities. It was inconceivable that Brigitta could miss them all.
Adjusting his voice, he asked, “How
are you enjoying the ball, my lady?”
“Very well, thank you. And you?”
“I find all forms of
entertainment pleasurable.”
They pranced about the floor to
the Commodore’s Return . The music demanded they advance, and he
concealed his voice and whispered in her ear, “You are the most beautiful woman
in attendance.”
She blushed. “Thank you, kind
sir.”
“Where is your husband?”
She frowned. “He has yet to
arrive.”
“Do you not feel bad about
enjoying the evening without him? What if he has contained himself in his room
because of illness?”
Moving with the other couples,
they retired and crossed over. Jewel-toned skirts flashed around him,
candlelight flickered on jewelry, warmth exuded from the flames. A smile
twitched at the corner of his lips. Perhaps his greatest role had yet to be
played. If he could fool Brigitta, then could he not fool anyone?
When the music drew them together
again, she said, “I do not believe his situation is so dire.”
“You do not?”
“I do not. Rather, I believe if
he stayed in his room, it is because his attitude of contrariness demands it.”
“Attitude of contrariness?” He
snickered. “What makes you believe he has an attitude of contrariness?”
“Pardon me, kind sir, but I don’t
believe it would be prudent to discuss my beliefs with a stranger.”
He stifled a laugh and forced his
head not to shake. Indeed, he should find a local troupe and offer his dramatic
services.
The dance ended and he bowed.
Escorting her back to her table, he said, “Thank you for the dance. It has been
a pleasure meeting someone of your inclinations.”
****
Luke frowned as a stranger
escorted Brigitta onto the dance floor. Even while she danced in another man’s
arms, she glanced over her partner’s shoulder and sent Luke a heated glance.
She watched his every movement, as did Roland. Several times Roland had
attempted to get close enough to identify him, but so far Luke knew he had
eluded detection.
The food on the buffet tables
carried a heavy aroma. He grabbed two plates and filled them with delicacies.
While they’d danced, he had seen
the recognition in Brigitta’s eyes. The journey of remembering he was her
brother-in-law and the man from the garden, who had led her through the tunnels
and back into the house. He was the man who had returned her to her prison.
The moment when she’d pulled away
had felt like a punch to the gut. Determined to never experience that pain
again, he decided to explain his behavior. Soon, very soon.
The dance ended, and the
gentleman escorted Brigitta to her table and left her alone. Forlorn, she
rested her elbows on the white tablecloth and cradled her chin. Luke carried
the plates to her, settled hers in front of her, and
Her pale blue eyes gleamed beneath the candlelight.
The couple seemed engaged in a
titillating conversation. They pressed closer and Chadwick narrowed his eyes.
The man placed his finger across her lips. Red hue dotted Brigitta’s cheeks.
Chadwick balled his fists at his
sides. The man’s audacity could not go without comment. As he approached the
couple, the music ended and they parted company. Brigitta returned to her
table, stroked her glass, and stared at the man’s retreating form.
Forgetting his desire to pummel
the man who had danced so shamelessly with his wife, Chadwick stepped forward. “Baroness
Stockport, may I have this dance?”
She drew her gaze away from the
stranger and glanced at him with a glazed look. “Excuse me?”
“Dance. May I have this dance?”
Her vision cleared but no
recognition showed in her expression as she rose, took his hand, and they
joined the dancers. He pursed his lips, fighting jealousy. How had she not
recognized his voice? His eyes? The lushness of his lips? He was stocked with
substantial qualities. It was inconceivable that Brigitta could miss them all.
Adjusting his voice, he asked, “How
are you enjoying the ball, my lady?”
“Very well, thank you. And you?”
“I find all forms of
entertainment pleasurable.”
They pranced about the floor to
the Commodore’s Return . The music demanded they advance, and he
concealed his voice and whispered in her ear, “You are the most beautiful woman
in attendance.”
She blushed. “Thank you, kind
sir.”
“Where is your husband?”
She frowned. “He has yet to
arrive.”
“Do you not feel bad about
enjoying the evening without him? What if he has contained himself in his room
because of illness?”
Moving with the other couples,
they retired and crossed over. Jewel-toned skirts flashed around him,
candlelight flickered on jewelry, warmth exuded from the flames. A smile
twitched at the corner of his lips. Perhaps his greatest role had yet to be
played. If he could fool Brigitta, then could he not fool anyone?
When the music drew them together
again, she said, “I do not believe his situation is so dire.”
“You do not?”
“I do not. Rather, I believe if
he stayed in his room, it is because his attitude of contrariness demands it.”
“Attitude of contrariness?” He
snickered. “What makes you believe he has an attitude of contrariness?”
“Pardon me, kind sir, but I don’t
believe it would be prudent to discuss my beliefs with a stranger.”
He stifled a laugh and forced his
head not to shake. Indeed, he should find a local troupe and offer his dramatic
services.
The dance ended and he bowed.
Escorting her back to her table, he said, “Thank you for the dance. It has been
a pleasure meeting someone of your inclinations.”
****
Luke frowned as a stranger
escorted Brigitta onto the dance floor. Even while she danced in another man’s
arms, she glanced over her partner’s shoulder and sent Luke a heated glance.
She watched his every movement, as did Roland. Several times Roland had
attempted to get close enough to identify him, but so far Luke knew he had
eluded detection.
The food on the buffet tables
carried a heavy aroma. He grabbed two plates and filled them with delicacies.
While they’d danced, he had seen
the recognition in Brigitta’s eyes. The journey of remembering he was her
brother-in-law and the man from the garden, who had led her through the tunnels
and back into the house. He was the man who had returned her to her prison.
The moment when she’d pulled away
had felt like a punch to the gut. Determined to never experience that pain
again, he decided to explain his behavior. Soon, very soon.
The dance ended, and the
gentleman escorted Brigitta to her table and left her alone. Forlorn, she
rested her elbows on the white tablecloth and cradled her chin. Luke carried
the plates to her, settled hers in front of her, and
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