Chapter Twenty-Two

Two Weeks Later at the Standish’s Ball

A Tryst Is Not A Tryst

Jaclyn attended many balls, but the entranceway to this huge ballroom stunned her. Bright, candlelit chandeliers, bouquets of colorful roses, and more servants than she’d ever seen assailed the senses.

Most important, she held Wolferton’s arm with Camille on his other side. The sudden silence that followed their introduction by the Standish majordomo was palpable. Jaclyn gripped the duke’s arm tighter at the anxiety of it all. They descended the steps into the main room.

On a whim, she and Camille decided to wear twin French empire dresses with subtle distinctions in the color of their gloves, one darker and the other a lighter shade of pale violet. Couples were already on the dance floor.

The promise of the first dance belonged to Wolferton. He settled his sister with friends and led Jaclyn to the floor. The splendiferous atmosphere, the warmth in the air, and the heady sensation to dance with him lent itself to romantic notions on her part.

At this particular moment she now lived in a storybook tale of her own design with her duke. She twirled in his arms as if they had always done so. Aware of the gazes upon them, she smiled at him—if he could only read her mind. All the excitement of his nearness overwhelmed her. Jaclyn didn’t want to appear a foolish young girl to him but rather an unobtainable object of female interest—a woman of significance.

She might have pulled it off until he spoke, “I have the privilege of dancing with the loveliest woman in the room. Every man here envies me, and it’s because of you, my dear.”

Not used to compliments from him, her words made no sense because her mind blanked. “Wolferton, all of this is so new to me. I need a breath of fresh air.”

“Quite understandable. I’ll dance you to the French doors and out to the balcony. It is well lit, and we will be in full sight of all passersby. The fountains in their gardens are like no other.”

Why did he always worry about propriety and compromised situations that could ruin a maiden’s reputation? The thought muddled her head until she recognized his actions were appropriate to his guardianship. After all, he was a rake in his day—or so Halifax claimed. Strange though she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Golden Greek God, Halifax. Perhaps he was not there, and that thought pleased her.

They stopped at the veranda balustrade. He pointed to the fountains and the candlelit colored paper lanterns on the trees that lent a fairy tale glow. “It’s not like you to be quiet. Does something concern you?”

“My head tries to absorb all of this. I’m somewhat in awe. You are so sophisticated, and I am naïve to this way of life. Is this how it is all the time?” She took her fan, gently flipped it open, and waved it. “I’m better. For a moment, my head got fuzzy.” She laughed.

“Trust me, Miss Jaclyn, after a while it does become a bore, unless…”

“Unless what?” she interrupted with a fervor meant only for him. Would he understand her message that she wanted to know all about him?

“Unless you’re with the most beautiful woman in all of Christendom.”

Speechless, she dared not hope that the magical words could portend that he possibly cared for her as other than a ward. “Suddenly I’m warm again.” In truth, it would take more than a wave of her fan to cool the avalanche of heat flowing like a raging river through her veins.

Jaclyn would remember to write those endearing words in her journal. The most beautiful woman in all of Christendom. Sweet heaven.

“I meant every word.” He smiled as he cupped her elbow to lead her back.

Had lightning just struck? Or was it just the effect of his hand on her?

“I had hoped…”

“Hoped what, Your Grace?” She paused to engage his blue eyes and savor this special moment.

“To tell you how much your presence here in England has meant to me. I have been remiss. But now it’s time we returned to the other guests. I have taken too much of your time.”

She wanted to pinch herself. Butterflies might have entered her body, but it was the masculine sound of his voice and the softness of his expression that reached into her soul to stay forever. Jaclyn basked in the glory of the moment and simply sighed. His words spoke of romance and more than she ever expected. It was a dream come true.

Wolferton led her back to the ballroom where her dream-like thoughts were interrupted by Halifax’s presence. “Good evening, Wolferton. Miss Moreux.” He bowed with a flare.

Wolferton acknowledged. Jaclyn gave a curtsy.

Halifax asked, “May I partner you in this next dance?”

Jaclyn gazed to Wolferton, who nodded with a hard stare, and released her. She hesitated a moment and then turned. “Lord Halifax, I see you’ve returned from your trip,” she said, with an annoyed voice, which he could interpret as damning him to hell. She placed the tips of her glove on his sleeve as he walked her to the dance floor.

“Yes. Did you miss me?”

To dance with him wasted her time when she wanted only nearness to Wolferton and to exchange more sweet words. She so wanted this night to be special for she and her guardian. Her dreams had started to show reality until the rogue, Halifax, showed up with his unwanted, superfluous presence.

“No. I was well occupied.”

“Stop your taunts. I’d imagine that when we start your lessons you might find you did pine for me.”

“My imagination doesn’t go that far. I didn’t give you a single thought. What are these lessons of which you speak?” Her brow wrinkled, and she scrunched her nose.

Jaclyn was in his arms on the dance floor and noticed the difference in style and how Halifax held her, and that the effect was not the same. She floated with Wolferton, but she danced with Halifax—like the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. She sighed with impatience for the dance to end.

“Surely you’ve not forgotten and are just acting the coquette. I held you in my sight since you arrived. There is a small room near the ladies’ salon. If you go past it, the door will be half-opened. I’ll be there to start your education about the art of a kiss.”

Her mind reflected more on Wolferton’s comments than Halifax’s vain words. “Lessons? Oh, I didn’t know you took me seriously.”

“I take everything you say to heart. After this dance, meet me there. Otherwise, I’ll have to whisk you away to somewhere more private. Camille will be busy with one of my friends, and Wolferton will be in the gentleman’s room with my other acquaintances. You see, I’ve planned everything for you. All will be secluded.”

Jaclyn stopped. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She played with fire and now would be burned. Yet, she remembered specifically retracting her request when Halifax said he’d be gone for a few days. The blackguard had full intent to drag her into a situation that could be disastrous. She realized the silliness of her ways and became frightened. She scanned the room for Camille but couldn’t find her. Wolferton was in conversation with some gentleman.

What was she to do? Run. Where could she run? What excuse could she justify to Wolferton if he found out of her indiscretion. Damn Halifax, who seemed much too possessive with his words and demeanor.

The music ended. Halifax escorted Jaclyn to the ladies’ salon. “There is important information you should know about your benefactor.” She pulled her arm away from him in anger and gave him a look that would scare the dead and entered the ladies’ salon. Soon after, she departed to locate the room where Halifax waited.

Jaclyn hesitated at the door, but then she firmed her back and took hold of the knob. The door opened fast. Halifax clasped her wrist and yanked her into the room where she almost tripped. Jaclyn struggled against him, so he left the door ajar.

“Ma cherie, shall we start our instruction? I’ve arranged for some fine wine chilled to perfection to relax you.” He pointed to the settee.

Her movement was not to the divan, but to the safety of the fireplace, away from him.

“It’s normal to be nervous. Nothing will happen to you that you don’t want. I am merely the instructor. Now come to me, my pet. May I pour you wine?”

Jaclyn firmed her shoulders. “I am not your pet and you will not instruct me in any subject.” She moved away to allow more space between them while her eyes scanned the semi-dark room.

“I am not here for any amorous intentions, Halifax. I demand to know why you persist in telling me salacious untruths about my guardian, and what you hope to gain from such lies. I refuse to listen any more. You are a scoundrel and a wicked man. I’ve a mind to tell Wolferton about your schemes. You are so low you wouldn’t make a ripple under a rug. No, do not come any closer. I warn you.”

She shouldn’t have come, but it was time she settled things between the scoundrel and herself. He advanced toward her menacingly. Jaclyn reached for a heavy candlestick on the mantel. “I warn you. Go no farther.” With both hands, she raised the weapon. Her feet braced ready to strike him if necessary.

“Do you really think you can thwart me with a mere piece of brass?” he mocked.

Though Wolferton engaged in a conversation with a politician, he saw Jaclyn streak by him and away from the party, her face in a determined expression, a woman on a mission, and apparently unaware of his presence. Ever vigilant in all things that concerned Jaclyn, Wolferton followed. Along the way, he grasped his sister’s arm and dragged her with him, not caring that the acquaintances appeared shocked by his actions. Before Camille could question him, Wolferton placed a right finger to his lips to his sister.

“Be silent. Let’s see what this is about.” They paused and listened just outside the door.

At the sound of her angry words, Wolferton pushed the door completely open. In a flash, Jaclyn moved behind the drapes with the candlestick in hand. He surmised she did not see him and most certainly did not wish discovery in a compromising situation.

Halifax had his back to the now open door. His hands clenched at the sight of Wolferton.

“There you are, Halifax.” Wolferton sauntered into the salon with Camille beside him. Again, he called on his military experience to calm the giant emotion within him that wanted to kill Halifax with his bare hands, slowly, until the scoundrel’s life’s breath dissipated. He thought to challenge the blighter to a duel, but that would involve ruining Jaclyn’s reputation. Nonetheless, he vowed Halifax would live to regret this moment sometime soon. With a quick scan of the room, he saw the wine with two empty glasses on a table next to the settee, and beyond that, two satin slippers that peeked out under the bottom of the drape.

“I see I might have interrupted plans of yours, Halifax. Since the lady-bird has not arrived as yet, would you be kind enough to go to the gentlemen’s rooms to ask the attendant if anyone has found a watch engraved with my name? I seem to have misplaced it.” Wolferton’s voice would have frozen a lake in springtime. It was not a question, but a command, and Halifax had no choice but to obey.

“Of course, if my lady arrives, pour her some wine. She’s not a lady-bird but someone respectable.”

Wolferton stood erect, his eyes locked to Halifax’s, daring him to give him a reason to pummel his face. “By the bye, old chap, the next time you attempt to divert my attention, it should be done with friends whom I trust.”

Camille clung to her brother’s arm. He turned to her and gently removed it. “I’m waiting, Halifax. Patience is not one of my virtues.”

Halifax snorted and left with a smirk on his face.

After a long, tense moment, Wolferton said, “You may come out now, Miss Moreux. We are about to leave.” He went to the drape and pulled it open, retrieved the candlestick, placed it on the mantel, and extended his arm to a sheepish, red-faced Jaclyn. With an icy demeanor, he asked, “Have you had occasion to practice bashing a man for his advances?”

She grasped his hand. “No, but I’m told that there’s a first time for everything. This…this farce is not what you think.”

Wolferton placed his protective hand over hers. His other arm went to his sister, and they all exited the salon. There was no sign of Halifax. “The evening is over, sister. I’ve decided to depart since I encountered a significant problem.”

He led Jaclyn and Camille to the foyer where the porter fetched their garments.

As they dressed, his sister asked, “I’m not sure what I just witnessed.” She placed an arm around the younger woman. “What lies have you been told that would cause such anger in defense of my brother?”

Jaclyn appeared frozen. Before she could answer, Wolferton spoke. “Our coach is here. Ladies, if you please, I seem to have acquired an extreme headache. We can discuss this matter in the privacy of our home. And I will need a stiff drink. Once again.”