Page 51 of Wicked Rivals
“I’m awful at cards but quite good at chess.” Being alone in a castle with only her brothers, she’d learned that game very well.
The dance ended, and Rafe curled her arm through his to lead her off the dance floor to an alcove where he leaned in close to speak to her.
“Then I suggest this: wager him your marital and financial freedom. My brother is useless at chess. He understands the fundamentals only and none of the finesse. You could beat him if you make it a matter of honor.”
Surely Ashton would not allow her such an easy way out. He’d promised to return her property in time, but then again, he’d also threatened to keep it if she didn’t consider marriage to him. And she feared that threat would become more pronounced the longer she refused. Perhaps something like this would make it a matter of honor he couldn’t ignore.
“I don’t think he—”
“Play into his vanity. Challenge him to a game of skill, one where you start on equal footing.” Rafe glanced around. “Blast, he’s coming this way, and he looks ready to throttle me.”
Sure enough, Ashton was making his way toward them. On the surface he seemed as calm as ever, but the way he pushed past those in his way made Rosalind see why his brother sounded concerned.
“Rafe, why don’t you fetch Lady Melbourne a glass of arrack punch?” Ashton suggested with a precision that could cut through bone.
“Of course.” Rafe winked at Rosalind and left for the refreshment tables.
Ashton captured Rosalind’s wrist and tugged the little card up close so he could inspect it. “I don’t suppose you have any dances left open?”
“The last dance,” she said, watching him, trying not to smile as he continued to glare at the names. He might think he was maintaining his composure, but he would be lying to himself if he did. He used a slender pencil to inscribe his name at the bottom and then let go of her.
“Good. You’re mine for the last dance then.” He sounded far too smug about that.
“You should dance with someone else before me, my lord. It’s inappropriate for you to dance with one lady only. People will talk.”
His blue eyes blazed as he leaned down close to her. “Does it look as though I care?”
Rosalind tried to retreat, but not because she felt overwhelmed by him. Several couples were watching now, and she didn’t wish for Mr. Merton’s ball to become a scene of scandal and gossip.
“My lord, please step back. People are staring.”
He reached up and brushed a loose curl of her hair away from her neck. “Let them.” The touch sent heated tingles through her. It was torturously sweet and sensual as his fingers lingered against her neck a moment too long.
Was this what it felt like? To be loved and cherished as a woman? She knew Ashton did not love her, that his overtures were always focused on the practical and advantageous, but there was affection in that touch. Some part of this ruthless baron cared about her. It should not have mattered to her, but it did. She wanted someone to care about her, even if it had to be her business rival.
“I look forward to our dance.” He let his hand drop from her neck and walked away.
“Heavens,” she muttered, fanning herself.
The last dance was to be a waltz. Something so intimate was not a good idea. Not that she had control over what the orchestra played. Perhaps fate would be on her side for once.
*****
This night was hell on Ashton’s control.
Watching Rosalind,hisRosalind, going around the dance floor from one man to the next…it was going to kill him. Every time someone touched her hand or made her smile, he flinched.
“Two more dances. That’s all I have to endure.” He forced his attention to the rest of the room. His mother was laughing as she huddled in a corner with the other married ladies. A dozen or so ostrich plumes bounced as the ladies bent their heads to gossip. It was his mother’s element: the social scene.
She was the daughter of an earl, one with a vast fortune, and despite having had her pick of eligible bachelors had married his father out of foolish notions of love. His father’s decline had hurt his mother by association. It was only in the last few years that she had entered back into society.
He’d helped arrange that, of course, using the fortune he’d built for their family to buy their way back in with wealth and influence. Not that his mother had any notion of the lengths he’d gone to in order to secure her happiness and Joanna’s future. No, she thought he was a heartless bastard, no better than his father.
But he’d always looked after his family, seeing to Rafe’s education as well as Joanna’s and assuring that his family had every comfort they could need.
When the League had formed at university, it had been forged in the aftermath of tragedy. But it had also forged bonds of friendship that were unbreakable. Those bonds had saved him from himself. He had not been able to let go of that part of him that obsessed over money and power, trying to rebuild his family’s wealth and status after his father’s ruination. But the League had reminded him that life was about more than those things. It was about friendship and loyalty.
Love was not part of his equation, but it did not change these yearnings he had that left an ache in his heart when he watched his three married friends with their wives.
