Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,14
she stayed at home? Locked her in. Or, better yet, taken her with him wherever he’d gone. That was a man besotted for you. They saw what they wanted to see. Mark had forgotten how easily women gave in to temptation. Either that or the poor sap thought his wife was different.
Which left the field open to men like Bannerby and Hapton. Men who didn’t give a damn if a woman was married or not. They were curs. And the women who succumbed were no better.
He gritted his teeth and forced the thought aside, letting his idle gaze drift to Mrs Mallow. The woman pouted. He pretended not to notice. His gaze once more fell on Hapton, who was lounging, eyes half-closed as if listening to the music, when in reality he was also watching the companion ply her needle.
Garth kept his hands relaxed and his gaze moving. Mrs De Lacy and Mrs Phillips had commandeered the window seat furthest from the harpsichord and were exchanging remarks about their dress and yawning copiously.
All the while their plump hostess sat beaming happily.
For a house rumoured to be seething with carnal sin and every kind of vice known to man, he had never been so bored in his life.
He pushed to his feet as Penelope played the closing notes of the piece of music. Applauding loudly, he strolled to her side. Others politely joined him. Penelope blushed, rose to her feet and dipped a curtsy.
Garth took her hand and led her away from the instrument. ‘Let us take a turn about the room. You have been wearing your fingers to the bone, my lady. Perhaps there is someone else who would like to play or sing for us?’
Her gaze when it met his contained resentment. He gave her his most charming smile.
Lady Keswick said something to her companion, too low to be heard, and Mrs Travenor nodded and rose to her feet.
Hapton sat up. ‘Why, I believe Mrs Travenor has been hiding her light under a bushel.’
The lady in question stiffened, but kept walking.
‘How delightful,’ Mrs Mallow said.
‘Mrs Travenor has a beautiful voice,’ Lady Keswick said. ‘Will someone play while she sings?’
‘I will,’ Mrs De Lacy said from the window. She was one of the kindest of the racy females here. The ardent expression on Mrs Phillips’s face indicated a hope that the beautiful widow would sing like the old crow whose feathers she emulated in her dress. Garth found himself wincing. He had no wish to see Mrs Travenor embarrassed.
He guided Penelope to a chair and perched one hip on the arm, blocking her from any possible intrusion. Garth bared his teeth at the approaching Bannerby and the man gave him a sour look and with a huff took the seat vacated by Mrs De Lacy.
Rose—Mrs Travenor, Garth corrected himself—glided to stand beside the instrument. Black suited her. It emphasised the warm tones of her skin, the beauty of her stunningly expressive eyes and the lush ripeness of her lips. Most women looked washed out in black, their skin deadened. She looked dramatic, like an exotic fruit that could taste either gloriously sweet or surprisingly bitter.
Every muscle, every sinew, every blood beat inside him, wanted to taste, to savour, to learn her unique flavour. He curled his lip at his body’s state of arousal. These days most of the thrill lay in the chase, not in the capture.
He doubted this one would be any different.
In which case, why bother?
And yet…
Mrs Travenor gave Mrs De Lacy her music and stood at her right shoulder.
‘Why are you doing this?’ Penelope hissed up at him.
‘Adoring you?’ he murmured back. ‘Isn’t that what you want?’
‘No.’
He raised a brow and for a moment Penelope looked ready to scream. He curbed a smile. Adoring swains did not find the tantrums of their adored ones amusing, though he dearly wanted to laugh at her chagrin.
Mark would not appreciate his being amused. Probably wouldn’t appreciate his methods either. But that was his friend’s fault. He should better guard what was his instead of being so trusting. Had he learned nothing during his years on the town?
The first notes from Mrs Travenor’s throat were low and hoarse. Panic filled her gaze and he winced, expecting the worst. She dragged in another quick breath and her voice steadied; at first barely audible, it grew in volume. Everyone paused mid-breath the better to hear. Even Garth. Then her voice swelled with astonishing depth and strength. The room vibrated with its power.