“With your permission, Tyler, perhaps Tess could lead the first dance with the archduke?” Struan was pleased with the rustle of astonishment he could feel.
Brock nodded, flushed with pride. Liza was ecstatic. Tess blushed and almost fainted. And Culum cursed and hated his father and blessed him for giving the honor to Tess. And all the traders wondered if the Tai-Pan was making peace with Brock. And if so, why?
“I don’t believe it,” Glessing said.
“Yes,” Cooper agreed worriedly, knowing a peace between Brock and Struan would not work to his benefit. “Doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes very good sense,” Mary said. “She’s the youngest and she should have the honor.”
“More to it than that, Miss Sinclair,” Glessing said. “The Tai-Pan never does anything lightly. Perhaps he hopes she’ll fall down and break a leg or something. He hates Brock.”
“I think that’s a very unkind thought, Captain Glessing,” Mary said sharply.
“Yes it is, and I apologize for saying aloud what everyone’s thinking.” Glessing regretted his stupidity; he should have realized that such exquisite innocence would defend that devil. “I’m irritated only because you’re the most beautiful lady present and you undoubtedly should have the honor.”
“You’re very kind. But you mustn’t think that the Tai-Pan does things maliciously. He doesn’t.”
“You’re right and I’m wrong,” Glessing said. “Perhaps I can have the first dance—and take you in to dinner. Then I’ll know I’m forgiven.”
For more than a year she had been considering George Glessing as a possible husband. She liked him but did not love him. But now everything was ruined, she thought.
“Thank you,” she said. She lowered her eyes and fluttered her fan. “If you promise to be more—more gentle.”
“Done,” Glessing said happily.
Struan was leading Tess across the floor. “Can you waltz, lass?”
She nodded, and tried to keep her eyes from the Tai-Pan’s son.
“May I present Miss Tess Brock, Your Highness? Archduke Alexi Zergeyev.”
Tess stood paralyzed, her knees trembling. But the thought of Culum, and the way he’d looked at her, bolstered her confidence and restored her poise.
“I’m honored, Your Highness,” she said, curtsying.
The archduke bowed and gallantly kissed her hand. “It’s my honor, Miss Brock.”
“Did you have a pleasant voyage?” she asked, fanning herself.
“Yes, thank you.” He glanced at Struan. “Are all English young ladies so beautiful?”
No sooner had he spoken than Shevaun swept into the light on Tillman’s arm. Her dress was a mist of green gossamer, its skirt huge and bell-like. The outer dress was knee-length to dramatize the tiers of a dozen cascading emerald petticoats. She wore long green gloves, and there were birds-of-paradise feathers in her red hair. Incredibly, her bodice was without supporting sleeves.
“I’m sorry we’re late, Your Excellency, Mr. Struan,” she said, with a curtsy in the silence. “But I broke a shoe buckle just as we were leaving.”
Longstaff pried his eyes off the decolletage and wondered, with all of them, how the devil the dress was supported and if it would come down. “Your timing is always perfect, Shevaun.” He turned to Zergeyev. “May I present Miss Shevaun Tillman from America. Oh, and Mr. Tillman. His Highness, Archduke Alexi Zergeyev.”
Standing there forgotten, Tess watched as Shevaun curtsied again, and hated her for taking away her moment of glory. It was the first time she had been jealous of another woman. And it was the first time she had thought of herself as a woman, not a girl.
“What a beautiful dress, Miss Tillman,” she said sweetly. “Did you make it yourself?”
Shevaun’s eyes blazed, but she replied as sweetly, “Oh no, dear, I haven’t your talent, I’m afraid.” You gutter-nosed-whore-bitch.
“Perhaps I may have the honor of the first dance, Shevaun?” Longstaff said.
“Delighted, Your Excellency.” She was exhilarated by the envy and jealousy that she had provoked. “Everything looks so beautiful, Tai-Pan.” She smiled at Struan.
“Er, thank you,” Struan said. He turned and motioned to the navy bandleader.
The baton fell and then the first exciting bars of a Viennese waltz began. Although waltzes were frowned on, they were the most popular of all dances.
The archduke led Tess into the center of the floor and Shevaun prayed that Tess would trip and fall, or even better, dance like a cow. But Tess floated like a leaf. Longstaff led Shevaun out. As she spun with marvelous grace, she noticed Struan heading for a dark-eyed Portuguese beauty whom she had never seen before, and she was furious. But when she had spun again, she saw that Struan had led Liza Brock onto the floor, and she thought, Ah, Tai-Pan, you’re a smart man. I love you for that. Then her eyes saw Tess and the archduke holding the center of the floor and she guided Longstaff, who danced very well, into the center of the floor without his knowing that he had been guided.
Culum stood on the sidelines and watched. He took a glass of champagne and drank it without tasting it, and then he was bowing in front of Tess and asking for the second dance.
He did not notice Brock’s frown or Liza hurriedly distracting Brock. Or Gorth’s sudden curiosity.
There were waltzes and polkas and reels and galops. Shevaun was surrounded at the end of every dance, and so was Manoelita—but more cautiously. Culum danced with Tess a third time, and four times in an evening was all that convention would allow.
The last dance before supper Struan pushed through the crush encircling Shevaun. “Gentlemen,” he said with calm finality, “I’m sorry, but this dance is the prerogative of the host.” The men groaned and let him take her. He did not wait for the music but began to lead her out onto the floor.
Jeff Cooper watched jealously. It had been his dance.
“They look well together,” he said to Tillman.
“Yes. Why don’t you press your suit? You know my views. And my brother’s.”
“There’s time.”
“Not now that Struan’s unmarried.”
Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “You’d encourage such a match?”
“Of course not. But it’s quite apparent to me that Shevaun’s infatuated with the man.” Then Tillman added testily, “It’s time she settled down. I’ve had nothing but trouble ever since she arrived and I’m tired of being a watchdog. I know your mind, so formally ask for her hand and let’s be done with it.”
“Not until I’m sure she’s ready to accept me—and happy about it—of her own free will. She’s not a chattel to be bought and sold.”
“I agree. But she’s still a female, a minor, and will do what her father and I consider in her best interests. I must confess I do not approve of your attitude, Jeff. Asking for trouble.”
Cooper made no reply. He gazed at Shevaun, his loins aching.
“They make a perfect couple,” Mary said, desperately wanting to be Shevaun. And at that moment, she suddenly felt unclean: because of her secret life, and the child, and Glessing. He had been so tender tonight, tender and masculine and very English and very clean. And she almost wept from the pain of her futile love for the Tai-Pan.
“They do,” Glessing said. “But if there’s any justice, you’ll win the prize, Miss Sinclair.”