Chapter Twelve
He was staring at her.
Geraldine swallowed roughly, then glanced away, not sure if she could bear the intensity of that gaze without casting caution to the winds and running to him.
She gripped her fan tightly, raised her chin, and walked slowly onward into the ballroom. Friends hailed her, and she nodded, smiled, and said something, but if asked, she wouldn’t have remembered what words she used to whom.
Her entire focus centred on the man moving toward her.
He too was focussed. She could almost feel the heat in his eyes, and lowered her own, shivering a little with nerves.
She was elegantly gowned, for once, probably at her best, and if he didn’t like what he saw…
or made some comment about how silly she looked… she wasn’t sure if she could stand it.
She was a simple provincial girl. He was a baronet.
And it seemed that he was a silent baronet, since he came to her, bowed, and then just stared at her, his gaze roaming over every inch and making a blush warm her cheeks.
Finally, he spoke. “Miss Foster.” His voice was low and hoarse. “You take my breath away.”
She risked a glance up at his face. “I do?”
His lips curved into a smile. “I see I must go into further detail. Where can we be private?”
She blinked. “Um…nowhere.” Gathering her wits, she gave him a little frown. “This is my family’s party, Blaine. I cannot just disappear, for heaven’s sake.”
“All right. Let’s try this.” He took her hand and swung her onto the floor, joining the couples already engaged in a sprightly country dance.
“You’ll throw the numbers off…”
“Nonsense.” He bowed, turned, and whirled her around. “You see? Everything remains perfectly in step.”
“Incorrigible,” she muttered as the movements parted them for a moment. “Just incorrigible.”
“Good evening, Miss Foster.” Fitz appeared at her side, bowing to his partner while speaking to Geraldine. “I am having a lovely time already and it’s only been five minutes.”
The couples met in a line, linked arms, circled and parted again.
“In that case, I shall declare tonight a success. We have managed to entertain you.”
He laughed, then moved away, and she found herself back in Blaine’s arms. As if she’d come home at last. She shook her head a little against the idiotic notion.
“What?” He leaned to whisper in her ear. “What makes you shake your head?”
“A silly thought, no more,” she answered back, lifting her chin and smiling at him as normally as she could. “I’m just nervous about tomorrow, that’s all.”
“Ahh,” he nodded. “I see.” The look on his face told her that he didn’t believe her at all.
But once again, their steps parted them, and they repeated the pattern of the dance, this time with Geraldine partnering old Mr Samuels, a sprightly chap of at least seventy summers, who spun and turned as neatly as any young sprig.
He complimented her until her cheeks coloured, then made her laugh and sent her back to Blaine.
“You charm them all tonight, Gerry.”
“They are our guests and our friends, Blaine,” she murmured. “I would have them leave with good memories of this evening to take into Christmas Day.”
“Keep smiling like that and your goal is already achieved,” he purred, pulling her close as the dance wound to an end. “It is certainly giving me wonderful memories and I haven’t even left yet.”
They drew apart, and he bowed as she curtseyed low, feeling the silks spread around her as she did so.
He waited, then offered her his arm. “Some punch? You must be thirsty after all that exercise.”
“Blaine, it was half a dance, if that.”
He held her arm close to his side. “And you performed it beautifully. As did I, come to think of it. I expect everyone is talking about how magnificently we danced, right this very minute.”
She had to laugh. “All right. One glass of punch. And then I must get back to see if Mama needs anything and make sure things are going smoothly.”
“If that’s all the time I have, I’ll take it.” He ushered her into a smaller room where the punch bowl was surrounded by gleaming glasses. Thankfully, it was – for the moment – empty. He filled a glass and offered it to her.
“Thanks, but not right now. I’m too nervous.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I always feel like this…I can’t help wanting everything to be perfect, and I worry that something might upset the apple cart.”
Blaine sighed and put the glass down. “In that case…”
She found herself whirled out and down a passage. “What the…”
“Hush.”
Somehow, he’d managed to get them into the corridor leading to the back gardens. It was quiet now, of course, since everyone, including the servants, was busy with the ballroom and the front rooms where food was already being laid out.
Tucking her into a window niche, he put his arms around her waist. “There’s no Fitz here now. We won’t be interrupted.”
“I…”
“Kiss me, Gerry. I want to kiss you again and see if it’s still as magical as the first time.”
She swallowed down a lump in her throat. “All right.”
Her hands found his neck of their own volition, and then he was there, warm and male, pressed against her, his lips on hers, his tongue seeking entry and then…oh yes…
Blaine, if asked for his thoughts at that precise moment, would have most likely said much the same thing.
There was no hesitation, no pretence of shock or modesty, just the simple act of touching lips. She was warm and silky beneath his hands, her body tucked into his as if made for that exact purpose.
She tasted of flowers and sweetness and woman, a heady blend of flavours that Blaine found himself craving.
The little moan that escaped her throat as he duelled with her tongue made him want to howl with pleasure and he pressed her closer, loving the way her breasts crushed into his waistcoat, the heat of her body searing him wherever it seeped through her gorgeous gown.
Gone was the cheeky girl dressed in her brother’s breeches. Gone was the uncertain young lady who did her best to act like an adult when necessary.
Now, tonight, the woman she would be had emerged. And she’d conquered Blaine with a single look.
He could feel himself hardening, his heart thundering, his need and desire for her like a fire that had caught an unexpected draught and burned ever hotter.
Finally, he tore himself away from her. “Gerry. I…”
She sagged in his arms. “I had no idea…” A finger to her lips, her eyes wide, she stared at him. “I didn’t know I could feel this…this…” Words failed her.
He managed a smile. “There is so much more I would teach you, Gerry.”
She swayed toward him. “I want to learn.”
God, she was temptation made flesh. And she was everything he knew he could ever possibly desire. In that moment, his life changed, and he made a decision.
“I will teach you, love. Everything you want to know. But you’ll have to marry me first.”
His words seemed to echo in the silence that followed, as Gerry’s eyes grew wide, and her face paled in the low light of the passageway.
He barely caught the whisper.
“What?”
“Marry me. Be my wife. Raise a family with me, raise horses. Breed horses.” He clutched her hands. “Do anything and everything. With me.”
“Marry you?”
“Yes,” he persisted. “Marry. As in becoming my wife. Saying I do in church. All that sort of thing.”
“Me? You want me to marry you?”
“No, actually I want to marry your cook, but I thought that if I married you, she and her scones would come along as part of the package.” He grabbed her and kissed her quickly and hard, then sighed. “Yes, my dear idiot. I am asking you, Geraldine, to marry me, Blaine.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if my ears were working.”
He grinned and raised one hand to circle the tender flesh of her earlobe, making her shiver. “They’re working very well.”
Her eyes remained glued to his face, but she lifted one hand and stroked his cheek. “Blaine,” she whispered softly. “I think I’d like that very much.”
His breath seized in his lungs for a brief moment. “So that means…”
Her lips curved in that wonderful way he’d come to enjoy. “It means yes. Yes, yes, and yes…” she paused, and then touched his lips. “Provided you’ll take Flora as part of the deal, instead of our cook…”
He thought for a moment. “Well, now, I’m not so sure. Those scones were superlative…”
She managed a laugh, as he hoped she would.
“I cannot linger,” she glanced around. “My absence will be noted.” Her gaze returned to his face. “I…what do we do now? I don’t know what to think…to say…”
“I will speak with your father, of course. And then we can make plans, sweetheart.”
“I’m not sure if we should say anything…”
He thought for a moment. “No, we shouldn’t. Not until I’ve received your father’s approval.”
“Oh, he’ll approve,” she grinned. “My Mama wouldn’t let him do otherwise.”
“Splendid. Then we shall simply enjoy tonight and tomorrow, we’ll set everything in motion.”
“After the race, of course.”
He blinked. “Gerry, you won’t want to race now, will you? You’re going to be my wife. You don’t need to ride, just bring Flora over and you can watch it all from Kendall Manor. That’s where it starts and finishes.”
She stepped back, and a chill drifted down Blaine’s spine.
“Why would I not want to race?”
He took in a breath. “Because you might hurt yourself. You might fall…anything could happen. I want you safe and well, and beside me for the rest of our lives.”
“Carefully wrapped in swaths of wool?”
“Of course not.” He frowned. The expression on her face was not the one he wanted to see there.
“Blaine,” she began, taking another step away from him.
“I have spent many years yearning to participate in this race. Finally, I have the chance to do so. But because I’ve agreed to be your wife, apparently that means I must set aside my wants and obey yours, even in something as important as this. ”
“Darling, I want to keep you safe. If anything happened to you…I…well, I don’t know what I’d do.” He grabbed her shoulders, willing her to understand.
She slipped free. “You want to protect me. That’s kind of you, and part of your nature. I understand. But you’re ignoring my nature.” She turned toward the party. “Please do not speak to my father tonight. I need time to think about all this.”
“Gerry,” he whispered.
“No, I’m quite serious, Blaine. I must think.
” She began to walk back along the passage as he followed.
“I would very much like to marry you. But not if it means that for the rest of my life I’ll be cosseted as if I’m no more than some fragile flower.
If that’s your opinion of me, you are sadly mistaken. ”
“But…but…Gerry…”
“I hope you enjoy the party. But I will not dance again with you this evening.”
And she was gone, sweeping regally into the throng with a smile on her face, as if nothing at all had happened.
Blaine stood stock still, watching. Why did she not understand?
How could he explain his desire to keep her safe?
Yes, to protect her from harm. Of course, to protect her from harm.
Wasn’t that a husband’s job? Or at least part of it?
The thought of her in the midst of a harsh race, alongside riders with crops, hooves flying, jostling for position, leaping over dangerous hedges and ditches?
His skin turned to ice at the mere notion.
Any husband would be terrified at the prospect of his wife in such a situation.
And yet she was insisting.
He wanted to throw up his hands and howl, but his good sense stopped him from doing so, and he merely followed in her footsteps, strolling back into the ballroom and pasting a smile on his face as he received nods and greetings.
As the current dance concluded, Fitz arrived at his side, took one look at him, and sighed. “Brandy?”
“Brandy.”