What in the bloody hell had put Kailyn in a snit?
Spencer wished he could kiss away his fiancée’s dark mood. It wasn’t like her to be so stiff. Ever since his aunt’s rather nitpicking correction about greeting the guests, she hadn’t cracked a smile. Where was her spunk, her enthusiasm to take on every challenge without hesitation?
She stood rigid at his side, gazing straight ahead. How did he coax her back into her usual sassy good humor?
“Kailyn, it’s time for us to lead off the first waltz. Are you ready to step on my toes?”
“I don’t intend to get that close.” Marching toward the dance floor with her chin lifted, she acted as if he was steering her to the executioner’s block.
Well teasing hadn’t worked, perhaps flattery would. “Did I mention you look particularly ravishing in that gown?”
She shrugged and kept walking.
Uh-oh. Something was very wrong.
Determined to shake her out of her bad mood, he stopped in the center of the ballroom and turned her to face him. “Follow my lead, and we’ll do fine.”
“Your lead has caused me enough trouble already,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
Ahh. Desdemona might be the root of the problem. No doubt the evil ghost had spurred a jealous guest into telling Kailyn lies about him.
“Have you heard disturbing rumors?” he asked solemnly.
If possible, she stiffened even more. “Now is not the time to go into it. We’ll hash it out later.”
Bull’s-eye. He swallowed his panic. If he could sweep her off the floor, he could settle this now. Unfortunately, with two hundred guests watching, he’d create more wagging tongues for Desdemona to twist. Squelching the damaging rumors would have to wait until after the ball.
In the meantime, he had more pressing trouble, like a very annoyed fiancée. He pulled Kailyn into the formal position for the waltz, holding her tightly. Although she didn’t protest, her blue eyes blazed accusingly at him and for an instant he wondered if she’d refuse to move.
He had to deal with this now. Brushing his lips against the top of her head, he murmured, “Don’t let Desdemona ruin tonight.”
Her expression instantly lost its contempt, and she softened against him.
His breath caught in his throat. Hang it all, it was worse than he thought. Because of his failure to put her before visiting with his business partner and CFO, he’d blown it. If he’d told John and Mari he desired Lady Anne’s choice, the evil ghost wouldn’t have been able to possess Kailyn. Glancing down, he watched a red haze slither away from her.
Relieved his kiss had released Kailyn from the ghost’s clutches, he twirled her across the floor. But when she deliberately stomped on his foot, he knew she hadn’t forgiven him for being so thoughtless.
Halfway through the dance, Kailyn finally spoke. “You lied to me. You planned all along to trap me into staying here.” She tilted her head and defiantly jutted her chin at him.
He brushed his lips across her hair again, but she didn’t melt in his arms. Proving Desdemona wasn’t the only cause of her anger.
“I fell under your spell as soon as you walked into my office.”
“Yeah, right.” Kailyn stomped on his other foot. “Don’t tell me such a whopping lie with a straight face.”
“It’s the truth.” He tried another kiss to dispel any of Desdemona’s lingering influence. It didn’t work.
Kailyn simply scowled at him, but she didn’t bruise any more of his toes.
If he hadn’t witnessed her sudden mood shift, he wouldn’t have believed Desdemona could control her. Lady Anne’s ring should have protected her. He was in big trouble if it took physical contact and a kiss to keep Kailyn safe. He couldn’t keep her glued to his side all night.
He bent close. “Desdemona draws energy from a crowd like this. Did you feel her evil fury flooding through you some time before our dance?”
Kailyn jerked to a stop even though the music hadn’t ended. Gazing up at him with troubled eyes, she frowned. “Possibly. I feel different now.”
Ever since the shooting, he’d feared Desdemona would defeat him by brainwashing Kailyn. “Be on your guard. I think Desdemona may have filled you with her hatred.”
“Perhaps, but don’t blame Desdemona for your underhanded scheming.”
He had to try one more time to show her his love. Duty prevented him from carting her off, and he couldn’t lock her in his room. He kissed her fully on the lips, directing every bit of his love and strength into her.
Kailyn’s head spun. Something inside her fought to remain ticked off by Markham’s deceit, but their kiss slowly chased away the remnants of jealousy that fogged her mind, and her logic returned.
The man had lied to her. But she had to give the devil his due. He’d admitted from the beginning that Lady Anne had chosen her to help him defeat Desdemona. He’d never promised to love her. Somehow she’d allowed the flirting game he’d played to become real. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Energized and determined, she was ready to fight the sneaky ghost. But where was Lady Anne? Why hadn’t the emerald ring kept Desdemona away?
Kailyn rubbed the green stone. “Lady Anne, I need you.”
Nothing happened. No pint-sized image appeared above the emerald. Something was wrong.
The abrupt sound of applause made her pull back and glance around. Without her realizing it, the dance floor had filled with Markham’s guests. They surged forward, some smiling, others scowling. Desdemona certainly had plenty of ill-will to feed her power. Kailyn closed her eyes and allowed the warmth of Spencer’s arms to block the nasty ghost’s poison. Desdemona wouldn’t control her again.
“My kiss should protect you while I do my duty dances,” Markham whispered in her ear.
“Think of a better strategy to stamp out Desdemona than a cold-blooded engagement,” Kailyn hissed. “Nothing seems to be slowing her down.”
He kissed her cheek and led her off the floor, smiling for his guests as he murmured, “Be on guard. Be pleasant. Try to keep everyone happy when you socialize. Maybe the bloody ghost won’t be able to absorb their negative vibes.”
The delusional man asked the impossible. Half the women in the room hated her simply because she was engaged to him. The other half coveted the position of countess. Although the men looked friendlier, lingering with them would fan the women’s cattiness. Her best bet was to turn into a wallflower and fade into the woodwork.
She drifted, smiling and nodding to the guests, but not pausing to chat with any group. Her strategy would have worked if Markham hadn’t decided to flaunt his flawless dancing technique. Suddenly squished behind John Martin and his date, she fought to banish an outburst of jealousy as Markham and an elegant brunette dipped and swayed in perfect harmony.
Determined not to give Desdemona an opening, she tapped John on the arm. “Who’s that dancing with Markham?”
John’s dark curly hair flopped into his eyes as he spun to face her.
“Kailyn!” He enveloped her in a hug. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you for setting me up in this mess.”
John stepped back at the lethal tone in her voice. Immediately, the slim brunette next to him held out her hand. “I’m Mari Wentworth, Spencer’s chief financial officer. And to answer your question, that ornament Spencer is dancing with is Francine Vaughn. She’s the most sought-after heiress in England.”
Kailyn cringed but shook the woman’s hand. So this must be the jilted fiancée Basil had mentioned. How was she supposed to avoid jealous thoughts about the gorgeous woman? The one who wanted Spencer back in London without his wife. The tall, willowy brunette was everything a countess ought to be. Everything Kailyn wasn’t.
Mari’s hair fell into gorgeous waves framing her porcelain complexion. Her rose-colored gown was the perfect mix of sophistication and femininity. She appeared at home in this large crowd, greeting the members of high society that Kailyn preferred to avoid.
“I hear you were once engaged to Markham.”
Startled, Markham’s CFO laughed nervously. “Ah, yes. But thankfully I escaped, while you’ve been thrown to the wolves.”
“Now Mari,” John moved slightly to block Kailyn’s view of his date.
It wasn’t Mari’s remark that surprised Kailyn, but John’s attempt to stop the conversation. The woman’s refreshing candor sparked her curiosity. Besides, it would serve John right to squirm a little for setting her up with the fake job interview.
“Are you telling me the Earl of Ryne isn’t a good catch?” She glanced back at the pair still spinning on the dance floor.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Mari walked around John to stand by Kailyn’s side. “He’s a great boss, but a girl gets tired of being ditched whenever an enticing business contact enters the scene.”
Markham hadn’t lied when he told her his relationship with Mari was simply business. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that a workaholic like John Martin wouldn’t be satisfied with a business partner less devoted to the firm than he.
John shrugged, then winked at Mari. “Don’t knock the hard work that pays your salary.”
Blushing at John’s teasing, Mari leaned close to Kailyn and whispered, “You have your work cut out for you. I’ve never seen Spencer put any woman before his work.”
“Really? Tell me more.”
Mari turned her back on John. “Architecture is his only love.”
Kailyn frowned toward the dancing couple. “He looks like he has plenty of social graces to me.”
“Don’t put any stake in the attention he has paid you during this house party,” Mari continued. “He’ll turn on the charm when it suits his purpose and forget you exist five minutes later.”
John shifted uncomfortably. When he opened his mouth to interrupt, Kailyn caught his gaze and narrowed her eyes. He didn’t speak, but the pained expression on his face told her he was looking for an opening to end the conversation.
“He’s an excellent performer,” Mari’s disgusted tone left no doubt she still felt jilted by Markham. “Just remember, though, all his performances have an ulterior motive. His heart is never involved.”
“Now Mari,” John stepped between them again. “I’m not sure that’s true. Spencer and Kailyn’s kiss in the middle of the dance floor looked mighty hot to me.”
Hot maybe. And definitely with the underlying motive of stopping Desdemona. After Mari’s frank assessment, this marriage deal to the workaholic architect should seem perfect. After all she was a workaholic herself.
She should be jumping for joy that their union wouldn’t involve overwhelming love. If something happened to Markham, she wouldn’t be crushed. Nor would she fall into a black grief nothing but death could end. So why did she feel so beaten down?
Worried her dark mood would bring Desdemona back, Kailyn ducked out of the ballroom. There had to be a quiet, peaceful place where she could lift her spirits and keep Desdemona out of her head.
She stepped into an enchanting powder room’s antechamber—the heavy, carved, wooden door shutting out the chaotic noise of the party down the hallway. A threadbare but intricately woven blue rug warmed and muffled her footsteps, and a large gold-framed mirror enhanced the ambiance of the timelessly charming room. A soft blue chaise beyond the fireplace offered the perfect spot to relax.
Sinking into the comfortable but worn chaise lounge, she shut her eyes and concentrated on the faint strains of music that managed to drift under the door.
Despite her best effort to relax, worries flooded her mind. Facts, figures and logic—not sentiment—were her strengths. Desdemona’s attacks made her struggle with unfamiliar emotions, and she hated it.
The sounds of clicking heels and swishing full skirts ended her brief respite. Louise Danforth and Olivia Westbrook swept into the room.
Kailyn stood, and Louise caught her up in a hug.
“There you are, dear girl. We can’t begin to tell you how happy we are that Lady Anne chose you as the next countess of Ryne.”
Olivia patted Kailyn’s shoulder. “You need to know a few facts which will help you adjust to your new role.”
Had Desdemona sent them? Kailyn scoured the room for any red glow, then checked each woman for signs of the ghost. Seeing nothing threatening, she folded her hands and waited for the lecture.
Olivia struck a pose that reminded Kailyn of her sister when she gave advice and stated gravely, “Rupert Westbrook allowed Elizabeth Danforth to hoodwink him. Their departure to America brought curses down on both families.”
Tapping her fingernails on the mantle’s pink marble, Olivia continued. “The Westbrook debt to Ryne will be repaid when the earl marries you and receives the trust fund Rupert Westbrook set up for the return of the token.”
This got Kailyn’s attention. “What token? What trust fund? Why does it go to the earl?” And how did this new wrinkle fit into Markham’s plans? If Mari was right, he never did anything without a hidden agenda.
“Before his death, Rupert returned to England long enough to establish a fund to repay Sebastian Markham for stealing Markham’s bride.” Olivia wrung her hands. “Spencer would marry any descendant of Elizabeth’s to get his hands on the millions that have accumulated since the mid-eighteen hundreds. He’s desperate to renovate the castle. You are the only eligible female, so you are his only choice. Through you he can save Ryne. You’re the token.”
“Use this power,” Louise urged Kailyn. “Make demands before the wedding and get them in writing. After you have produced the requisite heir, he’ll resume his former life.”
Not sure whether she wanted to thank her relatives for the sage advice or berate them for smearing Markham, Kailyn took a deep breath and went with a diplomatic response. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
After suffering through another hug from each of her interfering cousins, she now needed to escape the previously inviting room. What was she to believe?
Her relatives and Mari had certainly painted Markham as a callous, calculating, stonehearted scoundrel out to restore Ryne’s fortunes at any cost to others. But their portrayal didn’t fit the Markham she’d interacted with for the last week.
Was she so easily duped? Had she let his flirting, his teasing, his intellect, his sexy kisses, his heroic determination to save the Ryne community—and the feel of his arms around her—fog her reason?
Definitely, yes.
Disgusted with being so gullible, she headed straight for Markham’s office. While her whacky friend Crystal cooked up crazy ideas, Crystal unmasked people’s characters like a mind reader. Time to call the only expert Kailyn trusted to sort fact from fiction.