The Cyprian was dressed in a fitted, full-length pelisse made of a particularly fine mustard-colored corded silk, and a wide-brimmed brown hat from which sprang the inevitable plumes. They were spectacular plumes, mustard-colored to match the pelisse, but with their tips cleverly dyed brown to echo the hat. A brown feather boa was draped casually around her neck, with one long end trailing almost to her hem at the back, and there was an elegant lozenge-shaped brown velvet reticule hanging from her wrist. She toyed with the poodle’s lead, pearl-studded brown leather today, and a vaguely taunting smile played about her lips.
“How agreeable that we should encounter each other again,” she murmured.
“I have no wish to speak to you, Miss Jordan,” replied Linnet stiffly.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s so. However, we cannot always have what we wish, can we?” The Cyprian glanced across at the startled waitress, who hovered uncertainly nearby. “Another dish of China tea, if you please,” she said, drawing out a chair at the same table and sitting down. The white poodle sat beside her, gazing at her with bright, adoring eyes.
Linnet looked coldly at her. “I would prefer it if you sat elsewhere, Miss Jordan.”
“No other table offers the same fine view,” replied the other, still smiling a little.
“Then I shall sit elsewhere,” answered Linnet, beginning to get up.
The Cyprian put out a quick hand, restraining her. “I think we should talk, Miss Carlisle, and this is a miraculously deserted place today. Instinct told me you’d be lured by the royal merino, and, having gone to the trouble of searching you out, I don’t intend to let you simply walk away.”
“I have nothing to say to you, madam.”
“No?” The incredible dark-blue eyes gleamed.
“No.” What did the creature want? The battle had been fought and won over a year before, even though she, Linnet Carlisle, hadn’t realized there had been a war until it was all over. But as she looked at the demi-mondaine, Linnet suddenly realized that Nicholas, Lord Fane, was still the bone of contention. Judith knew about his call at Carlisle House, and was jealous and angry. What other explanation could there be? It was a quaint thought, and an enlightening one, for it showed that London’s most sought-after fashionable impure wasn’t as sure of her hold over Lord Fane as she’d like the world to believe.
Linnet was suddenly intrigued. Perhaps it would be interesting to hear what the other had to say. She relaxed, sitting back. “Very well, Miss Jordan, what is it that you think we have to say to each other?”
The demi-mondaine removed her gloves, placing them on the table, then stroked the poodle. Her glance moved critically over Linnet’s clothes. “Last year’s togs, Miss Carlisle? How very remiss of you.”
“Well, maybe it’s better to be unfashionable and pure, than to be the opposite,” replied Linnet coolly.
The blue eyes flickered. “Causticity is the weapon of sour-puss old maids, Miss Carlisle, and I doubt if you are yet in that category. Ah, but I was forgetting, you are soon to be betrothed, are you not? An old maid’s cloak is not for you.”
“Perhaps it is for you, Miss Jordan. Or is Lord Fane going to make an honest woman of you?”
“He didn’t make an honest woman of you, my dear. Or had you forgotten?” Judith’s eyes became even more feline.
“A fortunate escape.”
“Really? You do surprise me. Still, that is in the past, isn’t it?”
Linnet didn’t reply, but smiled in an equally feline way that was calculated to provoke. If jealousy was the reason for Judith’s interest in her, then she, Linnet, was quite capable of ruffling her adversary’s paradise plumes.
The Cyprian’s gaze sharpened. “Now I am the one being remiss, for of course Lord Fane is history to you because it’s Mr. Gresham who is now your love. I understand there is to be a grand betrothal ball?”
“You seem remarkably well informed, Miss Jordan.”
“I am, rather. By a strange coincidence, I am at present organizing a ball as well, a bal masqué.” A sly note crept into Judith’s voice. “No doubt our guest lists will be very similar—at least, they will as far as the gentlemen are concerned.”
Linnet forbore to reply, for it was only too true.
The Cyprian smiled a little. “Do I shock you, Miss Carlisle?”
“Do you wish to shock me?”
“I don’t know. I’m curious about you, that’s for sure.”
“Why?”
Judith glanced down at the poodle, fondling its head. “I have my reasons,” she murmured.
The maid at last brought the dishes of tea, and as Linnet prepared to sip hers, Judith spoke again. “If you aren’t exactly shocked by me, you’re certainly disapproving, aren’t you, Miss Carlisle?”
“What else do you expect?”
“Nothing, I suppose, but I ask you to explain why I am so frowned upon when an adulterous wife, whose marriage was entered into for convenience only, is accepted through society. I, at least, am honest about what I do.”
“Is it honest, then, to consort with other women’s husbands, Miss Jordan?”
“A husband won’t stray if his wife keeps him satisfied, Miss Carlisle. That is a cardinal rule. Tell me, do you intend to keep Mr. Gresham satisfied?”
“That isn’t any of your business,” replied Linnet shortly.
The Cyprian’s dark-blue eyes were veiled. “No, to be sure, it isn’t any of my business,” she said softly.
“Why all this interest in me?” asked Linnet, holding the other’s gaze. “I would have thought that my impending marriage would have pleased you, for it signifies that I am no longer interested in Lord Fane. That is what all this is about, isn’t it? I’m flattered to think you fear me as a rival.”
A dull flush entered Judith’s cheeks. “Is that what you think?”
“You haven’t offered another explanation.”
“Nor do I intend to.” The Cyprian gathered the poodle’s lead and rose from her chair, leaving her dish of tea untouched. “I wished to get the measure of you, Miss Carlisle, and I rather think I have. We will be meeting again.”
“I sincerely hope not, for yours is the sort of society I abhor.”
“Oh, I feel the same way about your society, Miss Carlisle, but you have become something of a thorn in my side of late, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to deal with you. À bientôt, ma chère, you’ll soon be hearing a great deal more of me, and I don’t think you’ll like any of it.” With a cool nod, the demi-mondaine walked away toward the staircase, the poodle pattering obediently at her hem.
Linnet gazed after her, and then slowly exhaled. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been throughout the interview, but was only too aware of it now. She lowered her glance. Maybe it was gratifying to know that the Bird of Paradise was vulnerably jealous, but what wasn’t so gratifying was the fact that Judith Jordan was also gloriously beautiful, fascinating, worldly, witty, and stylish. No wonder such a creature had triumphed over dull little Linnet Carlisle, who must have seemed boring in comparison.
* * *
Another disagreeable interview awaited Linnet when she returned to Carlisle House with her hard-won purchase of royal merino cloth, several yards of heather-colored wool that would make a handsome spencer. As she and Mary entered the house, Sommers informed her that Nicholas had called and had insisted on waiting until she returned.
The butler was more than a little uneasy about having admitted such an unwelcome visitor, but in the absence of both Linnet and her great-aunt, he’d felt ill-equipped to refuse the request of such an important gentleman, especially when that gentleman had been determined to have his own way.
“I’m so sorry to have allowed him to wait, madam, but it really was difficult to refuse.”
She sighed, and glanced at the gloves, fawn beaver top hat, and ivory-handled cane on the table. What did Nicholas want of her now? “It’s all right, Sommers, I quite understand. Where is he? In the drawing room?”
“No, madam. The ballroom. He said he could wait there as easily as anywhere else.”
That sounded like one of Nicholas’s remarks. “Very well.” She took off her gloves and jockey bonnet, placing both on top of the brown paper parcel of cloth Mary was carrying. “I’ll be with you directly, Mary.”
“Yes, Miss Linnet.” The maid bobbed a curtsy, and then hurried away up the staircase.
Sommers waited awkwardly. “Madam, would you prefer me to be present with you in the ballroom?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
“Madam.” He bowed, and withdrew.
Linnet took a long breath to steady herself. Following so quickly upon her encounter with the Bird of Paradise, she was prepared for this second interview to be equally as unpleasant. She moved toward the ballroom, passing beneath the colonnade and then pausing at the top of the steps.
The servants had almost completed the cleaning and polishing of the chandeliers, and were just raising the final one into place. Nicholas had tossed back the white cloth covering one of the royal-blue velvet sofas and was lounging back, watching them. He wore a fawn coat and brown silk cravat, and his long, well-made legs, encased in cream cord breeches, were stretched out before him. His top boots were highly polished, and his long fingers drummed restlessly on the arm of the sofa. He seemed to be absorbed watching the lengthy progress of the chandelier from floor to ceiling, but there was something distant about his expression, telling her that his thoughts were elsewhere.
She descended the steps, pausing again at the bottom, her hand resting on one of the African prince candle-holders. As she watched him, he ran his fingers through his dark tangle of hair, and then leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Too many late nights, my lord?” she asked, her voice carrying clearly across the ballroom.
The servants glanced quickly toward her, and then hastened to complete their task, raising the chandelier the final few inches and making it fast. Then the footman at the top of the stepladder quickly descended, and they all hurried away toward the French windows, carrying the stepladder carefully outside to the terrace and closing the window behind them.
Nicholas rose and walked toward her. “Good morning, Miss Carlisle.”
“You wished to see me?” she asked without preamble. His mistress had toyed with her, and she didn’t intend to allow him to do the same.
“That was the general purpose of my visit, yes.”
“Then please be brief, for I have much to do.”
He glanced around the ballroom. “Ah, yes, the famous betrothal ball. But what do you have to do? Isn’t it all in Lady Hartley’s ambitious hands?” He gave a low laugh. “Yes, of course it is, for she wouldn’t pass up such an excellent opportunity to further her reputation as a hostess.”
“You make that sound very insulting, my lord,” she replied coldly. “Will you come to the point of this unwelcome visit?”
“I merely wished to be certain that the equally unwelcome item of news that was imparted to me in Hyde Park yesterday was actually true, and judging by all the frantic polishing of the chandeliers, I fear that it is. You made a fool of yourself a year ago, Linnet, and I really didn’t think you’d do it all over again.”
She raised her chin angrily, specks of hot color staining her cheeks. “If you’ve come here merely to offer insults, my lord, I’d be obliged if you’d remove yourself immediately.”
“How quick you are to want to eject me yet again. Do I make you feel uncomfortable?” His eyes, a much more icy blue than his mistress’s, seemed to see right into her. “You know Gresham’s gulling you, don’t you?”
“The only one to ever gull me, sir, was you,” she replied shortly.
“You’re still wrong about that.”
“Are you going to tell me you didn’t trick my uncle out of Radleigh Hall? And you didn’t deceive me with Judith Jordan?” Her gaze rested haughtily on him. “Go back to her, Nicholas, for to be sure you’ve already made her green with jealousy. A second call at this address will only provoke her into another attempt to impose her company upon me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your fine feathered bird appears to regard me as a rival for your affections, and she’s issuing threats that she intends to subject me to her unwelcome attention. I don’t appreciate being approached by whores, Lord Fane, and so I ask you to instruct yours to keep away from me.”
“She isn’t my whore.”
“No, she’s everybody’s.”
“Now whose talons are showing?”
She looked angrily away, aware that she’d allowed herself to be provoked.
He watched her. “I didn’t come here to discuss Judith, Linnet, I came here to try to persuade you out of this folly with Gresham.”
“How dare you presume…!”
“I happen to think I’m well qualified to offer advice,” he interrupted. “After all, I was your first choice.”
“Yes, you were. And you cheated me most foully. Now, please go.”
“Not until I’m sure you’ve paid proper attention to what I’m saying.”
“I’m not a child that you can order about, sirrah!” she cried.
“Then please stop behaving like one. Gresham isn’t the man for you, and to proceed with this betrothal will be utter madness.”
“I happen to love him,” she breathed, trembling with rage, and with a tumult of other conflicting emotions. How dared this man presume! How dared he attempt to interfere in her life after having so cruelly spurned her the year before!
“Love him? You don’t love him, Linnet, you’re just turning to him on the rebound.”
She strove to keep her temper. “A year is hardly ‘on the rebound,’ my lord.”
“Isn’t it?” He laughed a little. It was a scornful laugh, calculated to goad, and it succeeded.
“Please leave, before I feel obliged to send for Sommers.” Her voice trembled, and she was so angry that she had to clench her fists to keep herself under strict control.
He studied her, making no move to do as she asked. “If you really loved Gresham, nothing I said or did would disturb your serenity. But look at you, a few considered words from me and you’re all emotion and rage. Perhaps you should take another year in lakeland to reflect upon what you really want from life.”
“I know what I want.”
“Gresham?” He laughed again. “Dear God above, your judgment slips from bad to appalling.”
“Maybe it does, but one thing is certain, sirrah. My judgment was more than just appalling when I was unfortunate enough to fall in love with you.”
His eyes had seldom been a more piercing blue. “That wasn’t when your judgment let you down, Linnet. It let you down when it allowed you to believe the lies you’d heard about me, and when it permitted you to actually accuse me to my face of having cheated both you and your uncle. I haven’t forgotten a single moment of what happened a year ago, nor have I forgiven.”
Her eyes flashed. “You haven’t forgiven?” she gasped, unable to believe her ears.
He smiled. “That’s correct.” His glance moved over her again. “One thing I had forgotten, however, is how very beautiful you are when you’re angry. I’m almost tempted to prove that Gresham means absolutely nothing to you.”
“Prove to me?”
“I wonder how long you’d protest if I chose to kiss you now,” he mused softly.
Her fury exploded, and she struck him across the cheek. It was a stinging blow, leaving angry marks on his skin, and she was shaking so much she could hardly speak. “Leave this house immediately, sir, and never call here again.”
He rubbed his cheek, but the smile still lingered on his lips. “Well, I think my point is proved after all, don’t you? In your heart of hearts you’re not at all sure of your feelings for Gresham, nor are you sure you’re over me.”
Turning, she gathered her skirts to hurry up the steps toward the hall, calling the butler as she did so.
Sommers materialized immediately. “Madam?”
“Please show his lordship out, and if he calls again, he is not to be admitted, is that clear?”
“Yes, madam.” The butler looked uneasily past her to where Nicholas was taking his time about ascending the steps.
Linnet paused at the foot of the staircase, a hand on the newel post. She was still trembling, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flee to her room.
He accepted his hat, gloves, and cane from Sommers, and then turned to look at her again. “Don’t marry Gresham, Linnet, for it would be the greatest mistake of your life.”
She didn’t reply.
He said nothing more, but walked toward the front door, which Sommers was pointedly holding open for him. As the butler closed the door again, Linnet turned to go up the staircase.
Nicholas’s words echoed inescapably in her head. I wonder how long you’d protest if I chose to kiss you now? She paused. How long would she have resisted? Guilt cut through her like a knife, and she felt as if, merely by doubting for a second, she’d betrayed Benedict; she also felt as vulnerable and full of pain as she had the year before, when she’d been the one who’d been betrayed.