Forbidden (Scandalous Sirens) (8 page)

“It was a very eloquent rendering, indeed.” Vaughn’s voice was low. He did not seem to care that the Baron and his daughter were watching them. “Simply beautiful,” he added.

Then he had understood.

Elisa pulled her hands from his. “Thank you.” She felt heat race to her cheeks. She must get away from him before indiscretion was their undoing.

She turned to her fiancé, who was slumbering peacefully.
 
“It has been a splendid evening, but it looks as though Rufus is ready to retire. Vaughn, could you please see Sir William and Natasha to their carriage?”

Vaughn bowed, a soft smile on his lips. “As you wish.”

Natasha frowned. “But it is early still!”

“Natasha!” William scolded.

Elisa pulled her mouth into a sympathetic smile. “Ah, the energy of irresponsible youth.”

Her slur went unheeded. Natasha turned to Vaughn and touched his arm. “Vaughn, I want to stay longer. Can you not entertain us?” There was a distinct and very unattractive whine to her voice.

“Perhaps I can interest you and your father in a game of chess,” he suggested.

“I don’t play chess.” She all but pouted.

“I believe your father does.” Vaughn turned to the other man. “Isn’t that right, Sir William?”

Sir William nodded eagerly. “Indeed, I do.”

“Well, good night, then,” Elisa said.

“Why don’t you put him to bed and join us?” Vaughn’s voice held a challenge.

Elisa did not turn to look at him—she didn’t trust herself. Instead, she shook her head and went to Rufus. “Another night, perhaps. It has been a long day.”

With Joshua’s help, Elisa got Rufus to his room and then retired herself.

* * * * *

Marianne helped her undress and prepare for sleep and Elisa kept her chatter to a bearable minimum by refusing to respond. She was keen to climb beneath the covers and seek an escape from the day, but when she finally did so, sleep would not come.

Instead she remembered the feel of Vaughn’s toes upon her thigh and found her hand tracing the path he had taken, her heart quickening. What if she had followed the debauched habits of her youth and worn no drawers beneath her gown? How would Vaughn have reacted when his foot had found not linen, but warm, willing flesh?

Lying in her lonely bed, she drew in a ragged breath and rolled over on her side, curling up tight against the wanton surges shaking her body.

Near midnight she heard the sound of a carriage pulling away from the portico. Their guests had left and Vaughn would probably be going to bed himself.

Her heart thudded as she strained to hear sounds of him. Would he go to his room? Or would he come to hers?

* * * * *

Vaughn closed the door behind him and leaned heavily against the ornate wood.

God, what a night!

Being the only son of a wealthy marquis, as well as possessing the title of viscount, Vaughn was a natural target for matchmakers and debutantes with an eye for golden opportunity. He had become practiced at foiling these attempts.

He just hadn’t anticipated his father’s neighbor and good friend to be one of those matchmakers. He had no intention of marrying for some years yet. There were far too many adventures and pleasures to sample before settling down to dull duty.

Sighing, he pushed away from the door and started for the steps. A smile formed as he remembered Elisa’s piano playing tonight. She had been in her own world, a place far away from the rest of them. A place she no doubt went to often to escape reality.

He took the stairs two a time. At the top, he stopped and looked down to the floor below. Finding no one about, he turned right and went straight to Elisa’s room.

Elisa heard the turn of the door handle and was out of the bed and moving across the room before the handle fell back into place. She tiptoed to the door and leaned against the frame, her heart thudding.

“Elisa.” The call was low. Vaughn’s voice.

She held her breath.

“Elisa, you lock the door against me?” He sounded aggrieved.

The temptation to turn the key and unlock the door was powerful. There was no one about to see or care that she invited a man into her room.…

“Elisa. I know you’re there. I wanted to talk to you. To tell you I know what you were feeling at the piano tonight.”

“How could you know?” she murmured.

There was a little silence.

“I know.” The sensual tone slipped through the door and wrapped itself around her.

She found herself pressing against the door, but she did not unlock it.

“You have no need to resent Natasha,” he added quietly. “Her youth and vapid ways hold far less charm for me than the deep, hidden waters that move in you. I want to drown myself in them. In you.”

Her pulse jumped alarmingly. “You promised friendship.”

“A friend can still desire.”

“But not pursue.”

“I said I would not.”

“But tonight—at the table….”

“That was the only way I had of assuring you I had not abandoned you.”

She sighed. He spoke aloud her own private thoughts.

“This is a dangerous game we play. Do you understand just how dangerous it is, Vaughn? Don’t pursue me anymore. Do not…touch me.”

Silence was his answer.

“Go to bed,” she told him.

“I will. But first I would bid you goodnight.”

“Good night,” she responded, relieved he had conceded to her wishes.

“Just one more thing,” he added.

“What?”

“When you lay off your corset for me, Elisa, leave off your pantalets, too.”

Her breath caught and her heart thudded hard. “What?” she breathed. After having just told him…. “I said do not touch me,” she whispered back, terrified he would force this issue against her wishes.

“I will not,” he returned swiftly. “But I want you to be bare for me. So that only you and I know and when you see me looking at you, you can imagine what it would feel like if my hands were to follow the same path my foot took tonight, or my mouth. Against your bare flesh.”

And the whore in her moved and rippled at the thought.

She laid her head against the door. God give her the strength to deny this part of herself that stirred so stridently.

“Good night, Elisa,” he murmured.

She heard him walk away.

It was a long while before she moved away from the door and returned to her cold bed.

Chapter Five

Elisa pricked her finger with the needle for the tenth time in as many minutes. She looked away from her embroidery to the wide window that gave such a magnificent view of the couple walking in the garden.

Vaughn and Natasha.

Baroness Winridge had wasted no time in bringing her daughter over for a second visit. It had only been last evening the Baron and Natasha had been here for supper. Suddenly, here was Caroline with Natasha in tow, the very morning after the Baron had pronounced her prostrate with a painful headache. The headache had remarkably disappeared.

Such alacrity could only mean one thing. Vaughn was the attraction.

Usually Elisa would enjoy another woman’s company as they embroidered, took tea and chatted, but today she found Lady Munroe’s presence irritating.

“He is incredibly handsome, Elisa. I remember him as a small boy. He was quite lanky. Very tall for his age. Little did I know he would grow up to be so striking.”

Elisa managed a smile. “Indeed, he is handsome.”

“Natasha could not stop talking about him all morning. I found it impossible to keep her at home. I hope you don’t find us too rude by calling on you unannounced?”

“Of course not.”

“Will you look at that?” Caroline said, nodding toward the window.

Vaughn was handing Natasha one of the blood-red roses Elisa had been carefully tending since her arrival. Elisa secretly hoped the young brunette was pricked by one of its thorns.

“Perhaps at the ball we’ll be announcing another engagement beside yours,” Caroline murmured.

She was entirely too hopeful, Elisa thought resentfully. “Vaughn is still a young man. I’m certain he has plans to see the world before he settles down.”

These were obviously not the words Caroline was expecting, for she sat forward in her seat and frowned as she watched Elisa closely. “I’d have thought you would find it a suitable match, given how close you are to Natasha. And just think…we would be family. We could share grandchildren.”

Elisa felt her heart start to patter unhappily. She had never lied to Caroline, beyond the single exception of keeping her supposed unbefitting past a secret. If she was not to reveal the most unsuitable feelings she had for Vaughn, she must put on the act of a lifetime.

She shifted uneasily in the chair and put her embroidery hoop down.
 
Elisa turned away from her friend’s burning gaze and looked out at the couple in the garden.

The two were sitting on a stone bench, talking amicably. Vaughn laughed at something Natasha said. His smile—full, joyous and touched with a devilment that caused an ache deep within Elisa’s chest. She wanted that smile to be for her and for her only.

“Elisa…”

Elisa glanced at her friend, her cheeks warming as the woman watched her quizzically.

“I do not want Natasha to get hurt,” Elisa replied. “She is so young and Vaughn…well, perhaps in a few years after he’s seen more of the world.”

Caroline ignored her completely and instead continued to outline an ambitious plan for the pair in the garden, including the engagement ball, the wedding itself—a full state occasion befitting a prince of the realm—the obligatory Grand Tour of Europe, a honeymoon in Paris, where Natasha could stock up on the latest styles by Worth, a season in London.

Elisa heard none of the details of what her friend said. She was too conscious of the couple in the garden, watching them from the corner of her eye and with carefully casual turns of the head, as they stood and walked toward the house. Her heart skittered as she heard the garden door open and close.

She had to get firm control of her emotions.

The door to the parlor opened.

Elisa looked up and saw the pair standing side by side, with small smiles on their faces as they looked at each other. There was a sense of mutual enjoyment, perhaps even secrets they shared. Her heart sank to her toes.

“What a lovely day it is,” Natasha said, her voice breathless. Her cheeks were flushed a flattering shade of pink that matched her dress to perfection.

Elisa forced a smile. “Indeed, it is. Did you enjoy your walk in the garden?”

She considered Vaughn. How dare he play with the girl this way? How could he spend time in her company, flattering her and flustering her with what could only be frank innuendos? Had he lied last night when he professed Natasha meant nothing to him?

But he had not said she meant nothing to him at all. He’d said Elisa meant more to him than Natasha...but he had not said the girl held no charm for him.

Elisa felt the anger pulse in her. It was ridiculous but very real. Vaughn saw it, for the side of his mouth lifted the slightest bit. Amusement? “Yes. Natasha is delightful,” he drawled.

She dropped her gaze, unwilling for him to see the hurt that surely showed in her eye. The pain stabbed through the rest of her body and smothered her anger completely.

“Your roses are beautiful, Madam,” Natasha said abruptly. She seemed to be completely unaware of the tide of feeling flowing between Vaughn and her. “Vaughn picked one for me. I hope you do not mind?” Natasha looked up at Vaughn with complete adoration while she stroked a petal of the rose with her thumb.

“Perhaps you should show your mother the beauty of the rose beds,” Vaughn suggested, looking down at Natasha with a boyish grin.

Natasha hesitated only a moment. “Mother, would you like to see the garden?”

“I should certainly like to see Elisa’s roses. I understand you have toiled over them since your arrival. Elisa, come, show me your pride and joy, dear,” Caroline answered.

“I cannot. The sun is much too strong for me at this time of day,” Elisa lied desperately. “But please do go and inspect them. They won’t last much longer, I believe.” She wanted merely to be away from Natasha and her mother—so she might shore up her defenses and recover her composure.

“Well, of course, if you insist,” Caroline replied in a strained voice.

Elisa did not dare look at the other woman as she stood and left the room with her daughter, but she felt their absence all the same. More than that, she felt Vaughn’s presence. It seemed to fill every crevice of the room.

He was studying her. “You’ve made a mess of your embroidery,” he observed. “You’ve injured your finger. Look, there are blood stains.” He took a few steps toward her, sending her heart racing.

When he stood before her, he took her trembling hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I saw you watching us through the window,” he said, kissing each fingertip. “What did you feel seeing me with her?” His lips were hot and moist on her sensitive skin. Shivers of delight rippled down her arm.