His face was immobile, dark as stone in the deep shadow. He looked at her for a long, long moment. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak.
‘Ralph—’
His hand was still cupping her face, and now he caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. Without thinking, she caught it between her teeth. Something flared in his eyes, something primeval, triumphant. She released him immediately, and he laughed softly as he drew away from her.
‘I was wrong. You need no practice.’
As he turned away she forced out a few more words.
‘I—I don’t understand.’
He stopped and looked back.
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ He spoke almost sadly, before adding in his usual brusque tone, ‘Tell Ariadne she is not to let you out of her sight!’
* * *
‘Damn, damn, damn!’
Ralph kicked the door closed behind him as he entered his room. He had made great efforts to keep away from Lucy Halbrook and allow her to forget that kiss in the garden. Not that he could forget it, for that encounter had shaken him badly. She unsettled him, which was why he had ripped up at her and then, knowing that his remark about her father had hurt her, he had wanted to make amends, only to find himself making a bad situation worse by taking her in his arms. Since then he had done his best to act with perfect decorum—apart from that midnight madness when he had taken her up onto the roof. His mind was diverted by the thought. She had been so delightful with the starlight shining in her eyes, and it had been a struggle not to succumb to temptation and kiss her, but he had behaved perfectly rationally.
Ralph told himself he wanted her at Adversane because he needed her to play her part in the forthcoming house party, but the truth was he wanted her to stay for her own sake, because he found her company stimulating. The more he saw of Lucy the more he wanted her. He tried to fight it. During the day he busied himself with his work and he had made sure they only met when Ariadne was present in the evenings, but today he had again broken his own rule and allowed himself to be alone with her.
And look at the result. His body was still tense with desire, and when he closed his eyes all he could see was her face upturned to his, those lustrous green eyes dark and inviting, the tip of her tongue flickering over those full, red lips.
By heaven, how he wanted her!
He absolved Lucy of all intent to seduce him. She was too innocent, completely unaware of her power over him. But for all that he found her presence intoxicating. A ragged laugh escaped him. If his sisters could see him behaving in this idiotic way they would have no difficulty believing the engagement was real.
Ralph frowned. He was growing fond of Lucy and did not want to hurt her by raising hopes he had no intention of fulfilling. He had already decided he could not marry again. He would never risk making another woman as unhappy as Helene had been.
‘You are being foolishly conceited if you think she would even consider you as a husband,’ he muttered to his reflection as he struggled with the knot of his neck cloth. ‘She has already told you she does not even like you!’
And the way she responded to your kiss? The demon in his head would not be silenced. How do you explain that?
‘Pure animal instinct. She had no idea of what she was doing. Hell and confound it, where is Kibble?’ He tugged savagely at the bell-pull to summon his valet.
The restless mood would not leave him, and he strode to the window, leaning an arm on the frame and dropping his head against it. One thing was certain: when Lucy Halbrook did eventually find a suitor who pleased her, he would be a very, very lucky man.
* * *
Lucy kept one hand on the wall as she made her way back to her bedchamber. Her knees felt far too weak to support her, and her body still pulsed with an energy she did not understand. Ruthie bustled in from the dressing room, too excited with her own news to notice her mistress’s pallor.
‘Ooh, miss, I’m to sit with the ladies’ maids at dinner tonight. Imagine! Mrs Green says when the other guests arrive tomorrow, us ladies’ maids will have to have a table to ourselves. Was there ever anything like it?’
‘No, never.’ Lucy tried to be glad for her maid. ‘Help me out of this gown, Ruthie, then I think I shall lie down for a little while before I change for dinner.’
‘Yes, miss. Oh, and Mr Kibble passed on a message from his lordship. He says you are to wear the blue silk tonight, miss, with the silver stars.’
‘Yes, yes.’ Lucy stepped out of her robe and waved her maid away. ‘Hang that up, Ruthie, then come back in half an hour.’
* * *
Lucy crawled onto her bed and curled up, hugging herself. Such feelings she had experienced when he had kissed her. Such emotions had welled up. When she had first raised the idea of finding employment, her mother had warned her of the dangers that lurked in a gentleman’s household. She had told her how persuasive men could be, had explained something of the dangerous charms of a seducer, but Lucy had pictured then a leering, lecherous man like her Uncle Edgeworth. Mama had not told her that she must also beware of the treacherous longings of her own body.
The mere memory of Ralph’s kiss made her writhe and hug herself even tighter. How would she be able to face him, to be in the same room with him, without wanting to touch him? She knew she would stare longingly at his mouth, desperate for him to kiss her again.
All too soon Ruthie returned with a jug of hot water. Lucy managed to wash with tolerable calm, and she allowed her maid to help her into the high-waisted evening gown of midnight-blue embroidered with silver thread. As the skirts shimmered into place Lucy was reminded of standing on the roof with Ralph, gazing up at the blue-black vault of the night sky. She had felt such happiness then, with his hand resting upon her shoulder and his deep voice murmuring in her ear as he talked to her about the stars.
‘Miss, miss? Will you sit down, miss, so that I can dress your hair?’
Lucy gave herself a mental shake and sank down on the stool before her mirror. She watched patiently as Ruthie caught her hair up in a blue ribbon and nestled little silver stars amongst her curls. She frowned.
‘I remember being fitted for the gown, but I cannot recall Mrs Sutton supplying the hair ornaments.’
‘No, miss, they belonged to Lady Adversane. It seems the master has kept them all this time. Fancy that!’
Lucy stared in the mirror and a cold chill of reality began to trickle through her veins.
‘And this gown, Ruthie. Do you remember Lady Adversane wearing one similar?’
‘Of course, miss. She said she chose the midnight-blue to match her eyes.’ Ruthie gave a gay little laugh. ‘She was that beautiful, but of course the stars didn’t show up quite so well against her gold curls as they will in your darker ones.’
If Ruthie meant this as a comfort it fell far short. Lucy stared at her reflection and felt something inside turning to stone. Ralph wanted her to look like Helene. It was his late wife he had imagined he was kissing earlier. He did not want her at all, merely someone who looked enough like Helene to arouse him.
Lucy sank her teeth into her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. She wanted to sweep her arm across the dressing table, to send the pots and brushes and the rest of those exquisite little silver ornaments flying across the room. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap. This was what she was being paid for—to recreate the image of a dead woman.
* * *
The murmur of voices when she went downstairs to the drawing room told Lucy she was not the first, but that was what she had planned. She had deliberately