Chapter 42
ALBERTA DORRIEN’S MANSION was the showcase of the neighborhood.
It had taken several years to build, and the lady hadn’t actually moved to the neighborhood until it was finished.
Her first grand ball had been talked about for months, right up until she threw the second ball.
Margaret had been too young to attend either but had certainly heard about them.
The dowager duchess had actually designed her property for entertaining.
Not only was the ballroom immense, but also the parlor, the music room, the billiards room.
There was even a large room strictly for gambling, filled with card tables.
The only room that wasn’t huge was the dining room, since sit-down dinners were reserved for only her close set of friends.
She fed the masses at her large parties with buffets, and since she employed not one but four cooks, each one a master, no fault could be found with that arrangement.
Her invitations were sent far and wide and were eagerly sought, and she’d even prepared in advance for that by building actual guesthouses. Not of the traditional sort, they were like miniature mansions! And all of them were usually used for a ball.
The party tonight wasn’t of the grand sort, it was merely a local gathering.
Only Alberta could get away with throwing a party on such short notice and expect full attendance.
But other engagements could be broken. No one declined the dowager duchess’s invitations. They were treated like a royal summons!
Margaret still hadn’t expected to see quite so many carriages lined up, waiting to unload their passengers.
She had to allow, though, that the draw tonight was more likely Sebastian.
The entire neighborhood would be eager to learn if he’d been reinstated or not.
It would be interesting to see if anyone would dare to ask him.
She was rather pleased with him at the moment. She didn’t think it would last, but at least he’d got into the spirit of the occasion and was dressed properly in formal togs. Not too formal, but definitely evening wear.
It was only the second time she’d seen him wearing a cravat, or an underwaistcoat, for that matter.
Pearl gray satin it was, very subdued with his black tailed coat and the white cravat.
No bright colors for him. She had to agree that gaudy just wouldn’t suit him.
No haircut for the occasion, though, but she was so used to the clubbed-back queue he wore that he’d probably look odd to her without it.
No top hat, either. John had actually found one for him, but when presented with it at the door just as they were leaving, Sebastian had given his valet such a hard stare that John had put the hat on his own head and stomped off.
That had relieved the tense moment when she’d come down the stairs and was met with Sebastian’s brow raised appreciatively.
It flustered her to no end when his glance turned admiring.
She’d grown accustomed to dealing with his ominous looks, but when his golden eyes turned sensual, she forgot how to breathe.
Edna had done her proud, though, in her own attire and coiffure.
Her evening gown was a deep burgundy wine color with white satin cord trimmings.
The puffed shoulders weren’t too bouffant and had the white cording interlaced with the dark velvet.
Satin slippers in the same dark burgundy peeked out from under her full skirt.
Margaret couldn’t deny that she was nervous about the party.
Nor had she seen Sebastian since they returned to her house.
Not once. So she’d been unable to discuss her worry with him.
In fact, he made himself so scarce that she might have thought he’d changed his mind and left if she hadn’t seen John about.
She supposed it was for the best. He’d be gone for good tomorrow. She had to get used to that. If she’d thought anything positive would have come from this last day they could have spent alone, well, she should have known better.
Knowing that tonight would be the last time she’d ever see him put quite a damper on her spirits. And ended her nervousness. Aware of him more than she cared to be on the drive to Alberta’s, she did sense his own tension.
As their coach slowly moved forward in the line, she asked him, “You aren’t going to disappear on me, are you?”
“Play the coward? You wound me.”
She snorted. “You look wounded, ’deed you do. But this is going to be easy,” she added, hoping to convince herself of that as well. “Just treat it like any normal party. Accept the well-wishes graciously, evade the questions. See? Nothing to it.”
“I recognized the Wemyss coach a few in front of us,” he said baldly.
“Oh, dear.” Margaret frowned. “I can’t imagine why Cecil would come—unless he didn’t dare to ignore Alberta’s summons either.”
“Look on the bright side, Maggie. He’s probably here to shoot me. Save you the trouble of a divorce.”
She glared at him. “That isn’t funny.”
“It isn’t beyond the realm of possibility, either,” he replied.
“Nonsense. He took Giles’s death hard, even somehow blamed Douglas for not preventing it, or they wouldn’t be estranged. But he’s gone on with his life. I heard he’s currently courting some duchess he met in London.”
“How nice for him,” he said with disinterest.
She narrowed her eyes on him suspiciously. “You were just trying to distract me, weren’t you?”
“You looked like you were the one about to bolt, yes.”
She could wish he wasn’t so astute. “It’s your fault,” she said defensively. “You were coerced, as it were, to be here tonight. Given that, it’s a reasonable assumption that you’ll make no effort to see the evening go smoothly.”
“As I recall, these things can last all bloody night,” he said. “But as long as we don’t stay till the end, I’ll muddle through this.”
“Certainly,” she assured him. “We can leave as soon as it’s decent to do so.”
“Then relax, Maggie. I’m not going to kill anyone tonight.”
That was a slap and uncalled for. She hadn’t thought he’d do any such thing.
But before it occurred to her that he might merely have been teasing, he leaned forward, caught her hand, and pulled her across to his side of the coach and into his lap.
There wasn’t even time to gasp before he was kissing her.
It was the kiss she would remember most clearly because it was beyond sensual, beyond thrilling.
If she wanted to be romantic, she would say he put his heart into it.
The way he held her, firmly yet so gently.
The way his hand cupped her cheek, so tenderly.
He wasn’t trying to incite her desire, and yet she couldn’t get this close to him and not have it rise.
But it was warm, it was sweet, and it drew her into participating rather than demanding that she do so.
All thoughts of the party in their honor were gone. She could have stayed there all night in his arms, tasting the delicious languor of that kiss.
She was brought back to earth rather hard when he set her back on the seat across from him and said, “There, now you look married instead of like a sacrificial virgin. We’ve arrived. Get out of the coach, Maggie.”