The Countess Page 0,18

the dance floor. He wasn't wrong there. She had been fal ing under her husband's spel , her body being assaulted by completely alien desires and wants. In fact, she'd been half a breath away from suggesting she did want to seek out the fresh air on the balcony after al when Robert had appeared. The problem was it hadn't been fresh air she'd been hoping to find. Christiana had hoped Richard might take her in his arms and kiss her there. That drink she'd had was obviously having some strange effects on her. She'd never felt this way toward Dicky before, even on their wedding night.

"Yes, I rather did need rescuing. Thank you," she murmured vaguely and glanced to where Richard now stood on the edge of the dance floor, fol owing them with burning eyes. She thought she could actual y feel a trail of warmth slide along her body as his eyes skated over her and quickly turned her head back to Robert as he spoke.

"I was surprised but happy to see that he final y let you attend a bal ."

Christiana didn't comment. Dicky hadn't exactly let her attend. However, she simply couldn't explain the events of that day to him. She couldn't even explain the events of the last few moments to herself. How had her general dislike and loathing of her husband turned to desire on the dance floor?

The combination of whiskey on an empty stomach and exhaustion from the day's events must have conspired to confuse and befuddle her, she reasoned

. . . and she was exhausted. It had been a very stressful day al told, and had simply grown more stressful when Dicky appeared here at the bal . Christiana had just begun to adjust to the fact that she was free of him and had enjoyed those precious hours of not worrying about what Dicky would say and do.

Yet now here he was alive and wel and she was suddenly attracted to him in a way she had never been before. Christiana hadn't even felt this way toward him during their courting. She'd never once wanted him to kiss her or pul her close then as she'd wanted during the waltz. In fact, she had come to realize that her feelings for the man during their courting had been more of a child's daydream than a woman's wishes. The courting had been al hearts and flowers, leading to a child's light fluffy dream of happy-ever-afters. However, the attraction she'd felt just now on the dance floor was much more raw and physical and left her bewildered and even a little scared. She had never experienced that with him before, but then while he had been ever charming before the marriage, he had never shown kindness and concern until now. There was something different about him tonight and she wondered to herself if his brush with death had somehow changed him. If perhaps that's what he'd meant by things being different now.

"Chrissy, there is something different about Dicky."

Christiana blinked and peered up at Robert with surprise. It was as if he'd read her thoughts. Before she could say so, he added, "I have felt it for some time now. He's not the man I attended school with."

Christiana frowned. Robert wasn't talking about his being different tonight then.

"How so?"

"Did you know I have been to see you three times the last few months and he has turned me away each time?"

She grimaced apologetical y, and admitted, "I only knew about two occasions and found out about those just this morning. I'm sorry. I hope you know I consider you like family and would never - "

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. "The point is that the Richard Fairgrave I knew was nothing like the pompous ass who took such delight in sending me away. It was more like his brother, George."

Her eyebrows rose at mention of her husband's brother. George Fairgrave, the younger of the twin brothers by moments, had died in a fire just months before she had married Dicky. She tilted her head to the side and frowned. "Oh?"

Robert was silent for a moment, appearing uncomfortable, but final y met her gaze and asked uncomfortably, "Does he have a birthmark?"

Christiana raised her eyebrows. "Not that I've seen. Should he?"

He nodded grimly. "It's a smal strawberry on his left buttock."

Her eyes widened and then she flushed. "Oh, wel , he may have one then, but I have never seen him without clothes."

"You have