Silk and Shadows(55)

Her smile faded as she moved across the ballroom, exchanging greetings and accepting good wishes from other guests. She could not help but remember another ball, where Prince Peregrine had coaxed her into dancing again. Since the trip to Sulgrave, he had been all too willing to abide by her prohibition against seeing him privately. They had met casually at parties and balls, almost as strangers.

She had been grateful, of course; without the prince's disturbing presence, her normal equilibrium had returned. She had ordered her trousseau, sent wedding invitations, gone to Charles's house with Eliza to plan redecorating the girl's room, and calmly accepted her betrothed's chaste, respectful kisses when he brought her home after social functions.

But whenever she saw the Kafir, something secret and sorrowful tugged deep inside her. His behavior confirmed what she had suspected: he had made advances because she was available, and turned his attention elsewhere when she proved unwilling. Because he had taken the time and effort to guide her through her fears, she had thought there was a special friendship between them, but obviously she was wrong. As unthinkingly as a child plucking flowers, he had changed her life, then moved on. And because she had gained so much from knowing him, she had no right to feel anger or regret.

Tonight she had seen the prince only from a distance. He had arrived late and immediately been surrounded by eager women. She wondered if any were his mistresses. Perhaps all of them were; harems were popular where he came from.

She must stop thinking such things, she told herself as she stopped to greet Lord Batsford, Charles's pleasant, undistinguished older brother. Peregrine had no place in her life, and he never would. Never.

* * *

Peregrine made his way toward Ross across the ballroom, politely refusing to allow anyone to deter him from his path. Ever since arriving in England, exultation had coursed along the edges of his consciousness, but now it surfaced like a hidden river reaching for the sun. The time had come. Tonight he would strike the first direct blow against Weldon, though his enemy would not recognize it as the opening salvo of a war. Like a warrior going into battle, Peregrine felt heightened awareness, a sharpening of wits and senses that would enable him to turn whatever happened tonight to his advantage.

Ross saw his approach and came to meet him. Pitching his voice below the music and chatter, he asked, "Have you found the proof that you wanted?"

"I believe so." Peregrine studied Ross, knowing that the Englishman was one of the most unpredictable elements in what would happen tonight. He would not take kindly to the knowledge that he had been played for a fool. Well, for Ross's sake he would make the attempt to persuade her with words. "I'm going to ask Sara to come to the library and listen to what I have to say. Give me half an hour to try to persuade her to end her betrothal. If neither of us has emerged after thirty minutes, bring Weldon and Haddonfield to the library."

Ross's golden brows arched up. "You want to do this now, in the middle of a ball?"

"So English, worrying about a scene," Peregrine murmured. "In fact, that is one reason tonight is perfect. With the house full of people, the principal players in this little drama will do their best to suppress undignified reactions. Much more tidy. Besides, the sooner this business is done, the better."

"That I agree with. Very well, half an hour. The library is a good choice. You should be undisturbed there." Ross's eyes narrowed. For a moment, the formidable man who had survived some of the world's most dangerous places was visible through his gentlemanly facade. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

Peregrine gave a brief, feral smile. "I do."

Then he went to find Lady Sara. The music had started again, and she was skirting the edge of the ballroom when he intercepted her. Tonight she wore an amber silk gown trimmed with blond lace, and its luxurious simplicity suited her perfectly. In the aftermath of dancing, she glowed with rosy warmth, and the deep décolletage exposed an enticing expanse of delicate curves.

Surprised at his sudden appearance, Sara glanced up at Peregrine without the cool reserve that she had maintained since Sulgrave. He caught his breath, unexpectedly moved by her closeness, and by the pleasure of once again seeing the essential Sara St. James revealed in those clear brown eyes. Once more he thought of a sibyl, a timeless beauty, simultaneously wise and innocent, and he wanted her with blazing intensity.

But now was not the time for such thoughts, for desire had little to do with what would happen next. "Lady Sara, I must speak with you alone."

"What... ?" She halted, puzzled and wary.

"I do not ask this lightly." For a moment he was distracted by the way her burnished gold hair was drawn back in shining waves, revealing the flawless bone structure beneath her creamy complexion. Forcing himself back to the business at hand, he said, "There is something very important you must know."