Rogue in the Regency Ballroom: Rogue's Widow, Gentleman's Wife / A Scoundrel of Consequence

‘It’s difficult to do that when there are people to observe and gossip.’

‘And that bothers you?’

‘No, I suppose not.’

‘I observe several males drooling for your attention. I can imagine their disappointment when they learn you are no longer available.’

Amanda bristled at his words, wishing he would stop reminding her at every opportunity that she was his wife. ‘Since I have no wish to argue about that particular issue on a crowded dance floor, I shall ignore that remark. I am acquainted with all of them and most of them are extremely charming.’

Kit glanced past her, eyeing the would-be competition with withering scorn. ‘I wouldn’t bother with them,’ he said drily.

For a surprised moment Amanda wondered if it was jealousy she heard in his voice, and then she dismissed it as preposterous. ‘Why, what do you see when you look at them?’

‘Envy,’ he answered, scowling suddenly when he glanced around at the hungry, expectant, hopeful male faces looking at her as they would a banquet about to be served up to a tribe of cannibals. ‘For what those scoundrels are thinking about when they look at you they ought to be horse whipped.’

‘Why, I do believe you are beginning to sound like a jealous suitor,’ Amanda remarked, slanting him an amused look from the corner of her eye. ‘And doesn’t what you’re thinking about when you look at me also merit a whipping?’

‘No. A man has a right to look at his wife any way he chooses.’

‘In the hope of attracting a husband, my father wants me to be nice to them. So unless you want to draw attention to yourself, I would advise you not to object when I dance with them.’

‘Just so long as you remember that you belong to me—and for that you can thank yourself.’ He smiled infuriatingly. ‘I blame you entirely, my love. However, you will soon come to realise that when I set my mind on having something—be it of material value or a woman—I am not easily dissuaded from that end.’

‘I am beginning to realise that you can be a mite persistent.’

‘Steadfastly so. I never waver far from my purpose.’

‘And do you always win the object of your attention?’

‘Through relentless pursuit—always,’ he said, whirling her round in the final movements of the waltz.

‘Then since I find myself the thing you propose to have, it would seem there is to be a struggle of wills ahead—mine pitted against yours.’

‘I am glad you get the picture.’

The dance ended and there was no time to say more because Henry chose that moment to claim Kit’s attention.

Deeply uneasy about the conversation she had had with Kit, and rather than dance with anyone else, Amanda had escaped to her room to sort out her thoughts and to freshen up, spending longer than she intended. When she returned to the festivities, reluctant to join the gathering, she went out on to the moonlit terrace. She stood there, near the stone balustrade, staring out over the dark shapes of the trees. She didn’t know how long she stood there, not thinking, not moving, just letting the peace wash over her, when something—not a sound, just a feeling, heightened her consciousness and caused her to turn—and she saw the end of his cigar, glowing like a firefly in the shadow of the house.

Kit came forward to meet her, out of the dark into the light of the moon.

‘Is the company not to your liking?’ he asked calmly.

‘Yes, I just wanted some air, that’s all. And you?’

‘The same—and something else.’

‘And what is this something else?’

Tossing his cigar into the flowerbed, he studied her for a long time before he spoke. ‘Do you really want me to tell you the truth—or make polite noises?’

‘The truth, naturally.’

He moved closer, capturing her eyes with his own. ‘When you came to my prison cell you took me off my guard—it’s not often anyone succeeds in doing that. To see my visitor—particularly a woman as young and attractive as you, Amanda—was, frankly, disturbing. It wasn’t the first time a woman had insinuated herself into my company, but the object was usually more of a passionate nature. But with you it was more than that.’

‘More?’ she echoed.

He nodded slowly. ‘Much more. I am a man of scruples, and I’d never met a woman as self-assured or as presumptuous as you. Until then I’d lived on the assumption that all women are sisters under the skin. You are different to any woman I have ever met. You are no fool and I believe will forgive yourself for things you condemn in others. Your father has placed you on a pedestal—you know that and I have seen it—which is why you have an air of reserve about you, which would explain your difficulty and reluctance to enter into any kind of close relationship with any of the adoring males who attempt to get too close. Maybe it would pain you to discover that you have blood in your veins and passion in your heart.’

Slightly offended by his remarks, Amanda stared at him coldly. ‘I’m flattered that you’ve taken the time to try and analyse me, Mr Benedict. In fact, I hardly know how to answer you. Perhaps I am like I am because I haven’t had the advantages of a mother’s love and rearing. You are right when you say that my father has placed me on a pedestal, but I never sought it. Indeed, I’ve shocked him no end at times, and he will be outraged if he should learn of this latest escapade of mine. It’s by far the most daring, scandalous thing I’ve ever done, but there’s little I can do about it now. However, for the time being, discretion is required.’

‘And honesty.’

‘Yes, that too. No doubt Father will lock me up with nothing to eat or drink but bread and water for a week for my shameful behaviour.’

Kit grinned. ‘As your husband, he would have to ask my permission first.’

‘Nevertheless, he will be furious with me. There are times when I don’t behave or express myself as a lady is supposed to.’