The Wedding Game(30)

Was it the combination of all those things that had made their need so immediate and mutual when, at last, they were alone together in the dark? As they had been in the cupboard at the musicale, his kisses had been so rapturous, his so touch possessive, her body had tingled, even in the places he was not kissing.

With other men, she’d always ended things before they got out of hand and demanded a return to the lights of the pavilion. But last night, if Mr Lovell had asked her to lay down in the grass and submit that instant, she’d have done it without a thought. She’d had to depend on his clear head to rescue her from disaster. He had been the perfect blend of gentleman and rogue. In the space of an hour, she was undone and happy to be so.

What was he thinking today? She doubted he was dancing around his rooms as she had done earlier and laughing over nothing. But she hoped that he was thinking of her and smiling as he did. Perhaps he was contemplating their next meeting. And maybe, just maybe, he was planning to call on her, to take her driving, or for a walk in Kensington Gardens.

She was infatuated. She had been so before, when she was a silly young girl. It would pass, in time, like a cold or a mild influenza. Passionate arousal was an unfamiliar and possibly new symptom. But as long as she did not explore any more dark, secluded spaces with him, she would survive it as well.

But suppose it was something more?

It was probably not. She did not have the time or the desire to fall in love. Nor had Mr Lovell given her reason to hope. He had not even offered the use of his first name. She absolutely refused to fall in love and allow her heart to be broken by his uninterest.

If anyone was going to fall in love first, it should be him. Then, if she felt so inclined, she would love him in return.

To that end, she dressed with exceptional care in her favourite morning gown of gold-striped muslin that suited the amber cross Father had given her on her last birthday. Admiring herself in the mirror, she’d never have claimed to be as beautiful as Belle. All the same, she looked exceptionally pretty this morning. One might even call her adorable. She had only to find her disciple to test the effect.

Even though she had prepared for company, she didn’t actually expect it. The last person she expected to find when she descended the stairs to the ground floor was Mr Lovell, already standing in the hall with a puzzled expression on his face, staring down the hall towards her father’s study.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. There were no trace of society manners in the question. She stopped to remind herself that, even though he was used to her treating him with brusque uninterest, things had changed between them. As an afterthought, she softened her words with a smile and a toss of her head and prepared to start again.

‘I just spoke with your father,’ he said. The response was delivered in a monotone that proved his usual town bronze had abandoned him. Neither did he answer with the smile he’d worn last night, when they had parted.

‘Is something the matter?’ If Father had got wind of what had occurred at Vauxhall he might have summoned Ben to account for it. Since her father had done nothing about her previous trips into the dark walks, it was surprising that he should take an interest now.

‘No,’ Ben said slowly. ‘Nothing is the matter. We have been discussing your sister’s future.’

After what they had done last night, he had come to talk about Belle. Her mind flooded with responses, but the one she most wanted to give was the one pride would not let her say aloud.

How could you?

Instead, she answered in the distant tone she’d used with him when she was trying to put him off. ‘Really? You obviously did not consult her in the matter, since she is still abed. What did you two men decide between you about Belle’s life and happiness?’

‘I am on my way to arrange for a licence,’ he said, his voice still flat. ‘The banns will be read for the first time this Sunday.’

‘And at what point do you mean to speak to the bride?’ she said, horrified. She had known his plan. Why did she think a few kisses would change it? ‘And when you do, will you tell her what happened last night, after we found her?’

‘Last night was a mistake,’ he said. Though he stood a few feet from her, it was as if he was delivering a line in a play, speaking in her direction, but not to her. He looked at her, but not into her eyes.

‘A mistake? Yes, I believe it was.’ It was the biggest mistake she had made in years. The sort of error a green girl would make before she learned to protect her heart as carefully as her reputation. She had lost her head and kissed him, and encouraged him to kiss her in return. Then she’d allowed herself to believe that it might be more than a typical male response to her wanton behaviour. Now he was about to tell her that any further contact between them would be impossible, since he was going to marry Belle, just as he had meant to, all along.

She spoke before he could. ‘Do not worry. My curiosity is satisfied. There was nothing about the experience that I wish to repeat.’

His gaze snapped to meet hers. She could see by the sudden flash of anger there that he wanted to insist that she was lying. The kiss had been phenomenal. It was the sort of passion that came along once in a lifetime. How dare she deny it?

Then he remembered that, for all their sakes, the kiss had to mean nothing. The light in his eyes died and he responded in the same unemotional voice. ‘I am glad we are in agreement.’