"She knows all about my background, Grayson. I made it seem that everyone knew and who cared?"
"Poor woman, she picked the wrong target. Hmm, now that I think about it, you always have a light hand when there is unpleasantness to deter."
"Well, yes, I try. I suppose it's because when I first arrived at Brandon House I was terrified that if I yelled back at anyone, your father would kick me out. No, no, I know I was wrong, but still, I was very young and afraid. Imagine not knowing who you are, Grayson, no memories of anything at all." She shrugged. "I suppose a way of behaving begun at an early age sticks well."
"I didn't know that," Grayson said slowly. "I remember when Father first brought you home, he trembled with rage at what had been done to you, a child. And the pain in him that you would die. I remember Dr. Pomphrey and my parents spent hours at your bedside when your injuries brought on that horrible fever. I remember clearly how my father shouted to the rafters when he came running down the stairs to say you would live. Your father and mother weren't there loving you, Rosalind, but mine were. Never doubt that. Never forget that."
She felt tears sting her eyes and swallowed. "No, I won't. Thank you for telling me, Grayson. In any case, none of it matters now. A light hand was the hast way to make her spit out nuggets as well as bile. I learned a lot from her."
"Everyone views you as a mystery, and it is ever so romantic how you came to be with us, even though it was actually quite awful since you could have so easily died. You're not a no-account, Rosalind. I daresay if someone happens to remark that you are, all you would have to do is sing for them and they would admire you endlessly."
"I did offer to sing for her, but she refused."
He laughed. "I wasn't joking. Your voice is magic."
"You used to think so when we were young," she said and he grinned at her, showing those beautiful white Sherbrooke teeth of his. "How is Lorelei today?"
To her astonishment, he merely shrugged, then pulled his watch out of his vest pocket and consulted it. "I suppose she is fine now. I'm off to my literary meeting. I'll see you later at the Branson ball." And he was gone before she could say a thing, such as, In matters of the heart, Grayson, you are a blockhead. What had poor Lorelei done?
23
That evening at the Branson ball, Nicholas gave Rosalind a brooding look after a particularly exciting waltz that left her dizzy with pleasure. She studied his face a moment, accepted a glass of champagne punch from a passing waiter, drank down a good half glass, and realized the problem. "Ah, I see, you somehow found out about your stepmama's visit to me this afternoon. I dealt with her, Nicholas, you needn't worry. Did you really kick Richard in the ribs with your foot? You really got your leg that high? Please, Nicholas, please teach me how to do that."
"Unfortunately you cannot do it because of all your petticoats."
"I can wear pants. Teach me, Nicholas, perhaps on our honeymoon. What do you think?"
He pictured her wearing a pair of his trousers and grinned. "We'll see." He stared down at her. "You should have told me she'd had the gall to insult you."
Rosalind only shrugged. "She didn't overly concern me. I must tell you, though, I had to open all the drawing room windows to air out the vitriol."
"She tried to warn you away from me, didn't she?"
"She certainly tried."
He laughed, marveling at her good humor. It pleased him, most of the time. He wondered if she would laugh when he took her to had. He wouldn't mind her starting out with a laugh, but-since he'd never made love to a woman who was laughing at the same time-he didn't know. He took her glass and drank the rest of the punch. He shook his head. "Two glasses of this stuff and you would leap upon one of the tables and do a dance that would make my eyes cross."
She leaned up and whispered against his neck, "Would I dance slowly and take off each item of clothing?"
He pictured her quite clearly on a lovely table in the corner. "I'm thinking of all the ridiculous petticoats you wear, the silk stockings, and don't forget the corset and chemise. There is simply no way you could do it by yourself."
He gently placed his fingertips over her mouth. "I want you to be serious now. Listen to me; my dear stepmama is a bitch. She sows discontent and sees herself as sorely abused. I don't wish you to see her again."
Rosalind frowned at him. "How do you know this about her? You haven't seen her in twenty-odd years."
"She hated me when I was five years old, wanted me dead, but since that didn't happen, she wanted me gone. Why would she change? You have only to look at her sons." He couldn't believe he'd said that. "I have an excellent solicitor. I asked him to give me complete reports on all my relatives. He is right, isn't he?"
She snagged another glass of champagne off a waiter's tray, saying, "Do you know, I think she was there to convince me her beloved sons had nothing to do with Lorelei's kidnapping, meaning they were no threat to me. I think she is afraid you will kill Richard and Lancelot. She was trying to protect them. She simply doesn't have the talent to go about it smoothly, not like you would have done. Yes, you would be smooth, and you would be deadly."
"The only reason I didn't kill Richard this time was because he bungled the job so badly. However, if Richard and Lancelot ever attempt to touch you again, I will kill them."
"You told them that?"
"Oh, yes, one must be perfectly clear when dealing with villains, particularly young ones, because they lack sense, and experience in the pain of consequences." He eyed the glass that was tilted to her mouth.
"Am I wedding a tippler, Rosalind?"
She grinned at him. "Perhaps once you rid me of my ignorance of wickedness, I will forgo this tasty stuff that makes my head all light, and makes unexpected words pop out of my mouth. Perhaps, my lord, you will ensure that I have no need of it."
He took the glass from her and set it on a table. He didn't want to dance with her, he wanted to fling her over his shoulder and run down the stone steps that led into the deep-shadowed gardens. He said, "Waltz with me."
She grinned up at him as he led her to the dance floor. "I read I was to marry you in the Gazette this morning."
"Yes, you are well and fairly caught." He sounded inordinately pleased with himself. Since she was very pleased with him too, she didn't remark upon it.
When later she danced with Uncle Ryder, he said, "Dearest, Willicombe told me about Lady Mountjoy's visit to you this afternoon. He also told me you handled the old bat very well."
"I thought he was eavesdropping."
"We have a long line of successful eavesdroppers in the Sherbrooke family. Willicombe is one of the leading lights. Just as Sinjun passed it down to Meggie, I believe Hollis passed it to Willicombe. Hmm, do you eavesdrop well, Rosalind?"
"Oh, yes, very well. Don't you remember, Uncle Ryder? If there was anything you ever wished to know about what was going on at Brandon House, what Jane was feeling at any particular moment, you asked me. If I didn't know it, I knew which door to listen at to find out what you wanted to know."
Ryder laughed and swung her around the floor. Nicholas looked up from his conversation with Grayson, just arrived at the bail, at the sound of her bright laughter.
Grayson said, "Her laugh is nearly as magic as her voice. I imagine my father is questioning her about your stepmother's visit."