He allowed him to get well clear into the room where the dancing was taking place, excused himself to Beddenton, snared another glass of champagne and made his way into the conservatory.
Tallie was still sitting where he had seen her before, playing with her fan. She tapped it, let its folds pour open, then flicked it closed, only to open it again. He watched her calm face, her air of concentration, wondering at the reserve behind which she could hide her feelings. Hide them most of the time, he corrected himself. Since he had known her she had appeared more transparent, more open. It seemed that either he was learning to read her moods or in some way he provoked her into revealing them.
How long had he been standing there watching her? He realised he had no idea. Long enough to have closed his eyes and repeated faithfully what she was wearing, from the tortoiseshell combs in her high-piled hair to the amber silk slippers just peeping from beneath an over-gown of golden brown lace with a pale yellow under-dress. The mix of golds brought a flash of recollection: a picture of masses of golden-gilt hair, shot through with deeper tones, waving over the bared shoulders and back of that naked goddess in the garret. Heat washed through him as he fought for control.
He must have moved. Tallie’s head came up and she looked directly at him, her face expressionless. She raised one eyebrow smoothly. It seemed she had perfected the trick of it. ‘Good evening, Cousin Nicholas.’
‘Good evening. I apologise for blundering in just now.’
A faint sceptical smile. ‘I doubt if you ever blunder anywhere, my lord.’
‘You rejected him then.’ He made it a statement.
‘You asked him?’ Her voice sharpened.
‘I saw his face.’ Nick strolled forward and took a cast-iron seat at right angles to her. The embossed ferns made an uncomfortable perch.
‘I was sorry to hurt his feelings,’ Tallie said. ‘But I doubt they were deeply engaged. Thank you, no champagne.’ He put down the glass.
‘You think him insincere?’ Nick let his surprise show in his voice.
‘No. Not at all. I am sure he likes me very well and honestly believes that we would make a good match.’
‘Then what is there to dislike?’ It was suddenly important to know. ‘He has breeding, a fortune, intelligence. He is kind …’
‘Is that what you look for in marriage?’ She swung round suddenly. It took an effort of will not to lean back away from her vehemence. ‘Breeding, money, intelligence? Kindness?’
‘Why, yes, they all seem admirable qualities.’ Why was he on the defensive? Why was it his feelings that were the focus of attention now? She had just defined exactly what he had always felt he needed in a wife.
‘You would settle for so little?’ Tallie sounded genuinely curious.
‘Little? It seems to me all one could want.’ Suddenly he was not so certain. Her intensity seemed to slash open a hole in his philosophy. A void that ached. ‘What do you look for?’
‘Love, of course.’ She stood, brushing against a jasmine in a pot and releasing a cloud of perfume from its early flowers, forced by the heat. ‘I look for nothing more. I would settle for nothing less.’
‘You could end up a spinster,’ Nick said harshly, getting to his feet.
‘Better that than compromise,’ Tallie said calmly. ‘Better that than mediocrity. And it is all I have ever expected, in any case.’
Something inside Tallie, some separate part of her that seemed to be watching the rest of her from a distance, registered surprise that she could regard Nicholas Stangate with such an appearance of calm. She was, after all, confronting the man she had only just realised she loved.
Tallie wondered if she had angered him, or even perhaps hurt him by attacking his views on what he would consider a suitable marriage. His grey eyes glittered like the interior of a newly split flint and there was colour on his high cheekbones.
‘May I escort you back to the dancing, or were you expecting any other gentlemen?’
‘No, not just now, thank you. I will have to go out and see if there are any I can lure in here,’ she retorted, feeling the colour rise in her own cheeks. ‘Aunt Kate tells me there are at least two more from whom I should expect a declaration within the next few days.’
A dark brow rose. ‘Tut, tut, Tallie, a lady does not boast of her conquests.’
Tallie stood up in a swirl of tawny silk and lace. ‘A gentleman would not provoke her into doing so.’ She took a step forward, but Nick did not yield ground to her and she found herself standing almost on his toes.
His eyes dropped from the challenge in hers to linger appreciatively on the white slope of her breast and shoulders revealed by the low neckline of the gown. The single heavy diamond pendant lying where the valley between her breasts began was moving in tune with her heightened breathing.
‘That is a very fine stone. Have your admirers been showering you with diamonds?’
‘Aunt Kate has kindly lent it to me, as she has all the jewellery I wear. I possess none of my own.’
‘We must hope your admirers will make you some suitable presents.’
‘I have told you: I do not wish to be on such terms with any of them that gifts of jewellery would be eligible.’ It was becoming difficult to breath. The conservatory was really quite stuffy and the scent of the jasmine so close was positively overpowering.
‘Look how it reflects the light.’ He appeared to be taking no notice of what she said. He was still watching the many-faceted stone and the scintillation of light as it moved. ‘Is it your heart that is making it jump and tremble so, Tallie?’
Before she could reply he raised his right hand and laid it gently, palm to skin against the curve of her breast between her collarbone and the neckline of her dress. Tallie started and stepped back, but his other hand came round to gather her to him and she was trapped, one palm at her breast, the other flat on her shoulder blade. ‘Your heart is beating like a drum.’
Tallie made herself stand still, certain he was about to kiss her, telling herself that when he did he would have to move his hand and she could slip under it and away, knowing that she would do no such thing.
But instead of bending his head to take her lips Nick continued to hold her eyes with his while the thumb of the hand lying on her breast began to move slowly, insidiously stroking the skin just under the edge of her gown. She gasped, tried to make her legs move, but all that happened was that her eyes fluttered closed as the skilful caress slipped under the neckline.
She had been doubtful about the gown: the edge of the fabric was only an inch above the aureole of her nipples, but once she had tried it on she was reassured that the cut and fit were so good that there was absolutely no need to fear that sudden movement or bending would cause the gown to gape or shift embarrassingly.
But neither she nor the dressmaker had planned for seductive fingers. The ball of Nick’s thumb found the puckered skin, then the bud of the nipple, and began to tease it. Tallie moaned deep in her throat, arching into his hand. Her breasts felt heavy, swollen. The sensation seemed to shaft through her. Her lips opened.
