‘Mr Castlemain. I am delighted you could come, sir.’
Lady Whittlewood held out her hand and Elyse watched as he bowed over it with exquisite grace. He was one of the few men to wear his own hair, long and confined at the nape of his neck by a black ribbon, but the thick, unpowdered mane glowed like dark honey in the candlelight, proclaiming the health and vigour of the man. Elyse clenched her hands around the stem of her fan. She remembered driving her fingers through those same silky locks, clinging on as Drew’s mouth worked unspeakable delights on her body. She had been right to dread seeing him again.
‘Miss Salforde.’
His voice, deep and smooth as velvet, recalled her attention. He was standing before her, tall, broad-shouldered, achingly desirable but he could not be hers. Never hers. He was a rake, he stole hearts for a pastime. Angrily she drew herself up, gave him a haughty look and kept her hands firmly wrapped around the fan. She would not extend her fingers for him to kiss. Their eyes locked and she hoped her gaze conveyed the haughty disdain she wanted him to see and not the searing pain of her breaking heart. His showed nothing more than light amusement.
After a moment he gave a little bow and moved on. The viscountess touched her arm.
‘My dear, your greeting for Mr Castlemain was less than cordial. I know the revelations about his past came as a shock to us all, but he has been granted a full pardon and he was your guardian, Elyse. It would not do for you to be thought ungrateful for his care of you.’
Lady Whittlewood’s gentle rebuke brought the colour stealing into Elyse’s cheek but there was no time to respond, for more people were demanding their attention.
At last the line of guests dwindled away to nothing and Lady Whittlewood allowed William to take Elyse into the drawing room where there was such a crush as must gladden any hostess’s heart. The double doors between this apartment and the one behind had been thrown wide to make a spacious reception chamber, glittering with light from the chandeliers and candles in their wall sconces that made the room as bright as day. As if some malicious spirit wished to persecute her, Elyse saw Drew immediately. His tall, dark figure was easily recognisable and a sudden shifting of the crowds created a space so she could see that he was part of a lively group. The gentlemen were laughing, the ladies fluttering their fans. As William led her past them Elyse noticed that each of the ladies had her eyes fixed upon Drew. She recognised the tell-tale gestures as they vied for his attention, the playful tap upon his sleeve, the fluttering of lashes. She dragged her eyes away, resolving to think of him no more.
William led her through the crowd, stopping for a word here and there. He was smiling and attentive, his manner a nice mixture of pride and pleasure as he showed off his future bride. Elyse began to relax. She was used to social gatherings such as this, could parry words with the wits amongst them and laughingly turn off the more impertinent enquiries about her background. William seemed pleased, too, for he patted her hand, saying,
‘We are a good pair, I think. We shall deal very well together.’
She smiled. ‘I hope so.’
She felt his hand on her waist, drawing her closer and he lowered his head to murmur in her ear. ‘You are looking dashed irresistible, too. Send your maid away as soon as you can tonight and I will come to your room.’
The scene she had witnessed in the morning room flashed into Elyse’s mind and she stiffened, yet what could she say? Tonight or tomorrow, after the ceremony, what difference would it make?
A sudden flurry of activity near the door caught their attention. Latecomers had arrived, a group of young bucks, flamboyant in their powdered wigs and lavishly embroidered coats. They erupted noisily into the room, making loud, laughing apologies to Lady Whittlewood for their tardiness.
‘Who can these young men be?’ wondered Elyse, standing on tiptoe to see what was happening. She chuckled. ‘I vow I have not seen them in the Pump Room taking the waters.’
‘No, indeed, they are friends of mine,’ said William. ‘I had best explain to Mama that I invited them.’ He hesitated. ‘Would you mind if I did not present them to you immediately? I should like to talk to them first, alone.’
‘I do not object to their high spirits, William.’
‘But I do. I would not have them put you to the blush.’ He released her. ‘Give me a few moments, my dear, no more, I vow.’
He kissed her cheek and left her, pushing his way through the press of people until he was swallowed up in the crowd.
‘Very affecting.’
She swung around to find Drew standing beside her.
‘Do not sneer at William, he is very considerate to me.’
She hunched a shoulder and turned away from him.
‘I do not sneer. It was an observation.’ He stood beside her. ‘Was it your idea to invite me?’
‘No. Lady Whittlewood suggested it. She thought it would help your standing, if you are going to remain at Hartcombe.’
‘Then I am in her debt.’
‘Is that why you came?’ She could not resist the question, any more than she could prevent the wistful note creeping into her voice. She wanted him to say he had come to see her, to assure himself that she was happy.
‘Of course. If I am to restore Hartcombe such connections as I am making this evening will be invaluable.’
The tiny spark of hope died.
‘I am glad. How is your arm?’
‘It barely troubles me now.’
It had not troubled him at all when he had embraced her in the pavilion. She must not think of that. It was over.
With the faintest inclination of her head she moved away. She could be happy without Drew Castlemain, she would do her duty to William and learn to be happy. The room had become even more crowded, if that was possible, and noisy with chatter and brash laughter. The crush of bodies added to the heat from the candles and the fires blazing in the hearths. Elyse found it rather oppressive and her head was beginning to ache.
‘Tomorrow you become Mrs William Reverson.’
Drew’s voice in her ear made her jump. He had followed her.
‘Yes.’
‘And you are happy at the prospect?’
Anger surged within Elyse. How dare he come here to taunt her?
‘Of course.’ He chin went up and she forced herself to turn her head and meet his eye. ‘William and I are very well suited.’
Wish her joy and leave, now.
Drew recognised the wisdom of the thought but could not act upon it. He had glimpsed the sadness behind the fire in Elyse’s brown eyes, the same sadness he had seen there that day in the pavilion. It had haunted his dreams ever since and made him question if he had been right to push her away so ruthlessly. He determined that if she had any doubts at all she should not marry Reverson.
‘Elyse.’ He took her arm. ‘Pray, if you will, spare me a few moments alone with you.’ He saw her look of alarm and added quickly, ‘I wish to talk to you, nothing more, you have my word.’
She regarded him for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. With a slight, decisive nod she set off through the crowd. Drew remained a discreet distance behind her. A screen had been set up to shield the service door through which the servants made their way to and from the room. Elyse slipped behind it and Drew found himself on a narrow landing at the top of the backstairs. It was mercifully empty and he followed her to another door just beyond the staircase.
It led to a small sitting room. A few candles burned but the room’s plain furnishings indicated that it was not used for entertaining. Elyse turned to face him, hands clenched nervously before her. Drew noted that the stomacher of her pewter gown was decorated with tiny jet beads that caught the light and he found himself thinking of the first time he had seen her. She had been wearing dull black bombazine but it had only served to emphasis the beauty of her dark eyes and lustrous dark hair. He had thought her beautiful even then.
‘Well, sir, what is it you want to say to me?’ Her cold tone brought his wandering thoughts back to the present. ‘Be quick about it, if you please. I shall be missed.’
‘I owe you an apology,’ he began. ‘I have behaved abominably to you.’
The angry look did not fade from her face.
‘You have indeed, but it taught me a valuable lesson.’ Her tone was light and brittle as glass. ‘It showed me how close I had come to ruin. It made me appreciate everything William has to offer.’
‘Does he love you?’
Elyse blinked. She had not been expecting such a direct question.
‘Of course.’ Her eyes slid away from his searching look as she pushed aside the vision of William and the housemaid. ‘Why else would he have offered for me?’ She added defiantly, ‘I know the truth now. I know of the wager, and why the viscount allowed the match. William told me of it, to assure me it made no difference to him.’ She recalled Lady Whittlewood’s words. ‘He was smitten from the first, you see.’
‘And do you love him?’
She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. This was intolerable. He had no right to question her like this.
‘I do. Now pray let me return to the party.’
He caught her arm as she tried to walk past him.
‘I do not believe you. The way you responded to my kiss—’
Her head went up.