it. But when Matthew drew out the chair directly beside it, Suzanna said, sweetly but firmly, “Mother, why don't you sit across from us? Mr. Bellinggrath will sit here by me.”
Again Matthew and Emile exchanged glances, and Matthew couldn't hide a hint of a smile as he ushered his mother to the other side of the table. When Emile was seated, Ty sat down in the chair beside Suzanna, while Matthew took his own at the head of the table.
After shaking out a white damask napkin and draping it over his right knee, Matthew lifted the small silver bell beside his plate. He gave it a forceful shake. A pair of male servants in spotless black uniforms and snowy white gloves instantly appeared. One poured iced water into crystal goblets and port wine into tall stemmed glasses. The other placed bowls of chilled vichyssoise before each diner.
The meal began.
For the first time in her life, Suzanna found that she was not hungry. Not at all. Neither was Ty Bellinggrath. Hot yeast rolls and creamery butter did not tempt either of them. They hardly touched the rare roast beef and carefully steamed vegetables. Even the baked Alaska, Suzanna's favorite, sat melting on their plates.
Suzanna had no appetite, no interest in food. She was interested only in Ty Bellinggrath. His blond, blue-eyed good looks and quiet, gentlemanly manner made him tremendously appealing. She liked hearing him speak, his voice pleasingly low and well-modulated. She liked the way he shyly smiled, the corners of his full lips lifting ever so slightly. A bashful little-boy smile, touchingly adorable. At the same time there was about him a calm demeanor and dignified bearing that denoted strength and dependability.
Added to his physical attributes was his sharp intellect. He was wise and well-versed on a wide range of subjects, yet modest, clearly averse to flaunting his knowledge. He challenged her own keen mind, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was heartened to find her so smart. But he was not astonished as most gentlemen were.
The dinner conversation was lively and diverse, and Suzanna listened as, prompted by Matthew, Ty spoke about his recent travels through Europe. He painted vivid word pictures of Paris, that fabled City of Light. He told of the cafés lined with tables facing the street, where he had sat in the warm sun and sipped vermouth while watching the passersby. He described the flower sellers with their fresh blossoms. The boulevardiers in long-tailed coats and goatees. The open-air carriages rolling by conveying happy, handsome couples. The shop windows on the Rue de la Paix. The tree-bordered Champs-Élysées.
Concluding, he pointed out that he had returned to America only last week and that he was very glad to be home. He glanced at Suzanna when he said it, and she nodded, smiling. She was very glad as well.
The meal ended and the foursome went back into the drawing room. Inclining his head, Matthew suggested Suzanna play the piano for their enjoyment. Generally, such a suggestion drew quick protests and mean faces from his sister. She was no circus performer! She would not would jump through hoops to prove she had laudable feminine talents that might make her more attractive to the opposite sex!
But Ty gently coaxed, “Yes, Miss Suzanna, won't you, please…?”
“Only if you'll agree to sit beside me while I play,” she said sweetly.
“It would be my pleasure,” he replied in that low, soft drawl that so suited him.
Matthew and Emile sipped their coffee, unable to believe what they were seeing—Suzanna seated at the square pianoforte, playing Chopin beautifully and smiling warmly at the blushing blond man who sat beside her.
The impromptu recital ended.
Ty rose and drew her to her feet. “That was lovely, Miss Suzanna. I truly enjoyed it.” Suzanna beamed with pride. Ty then turned and said, “Mrs. LeGrande, Matthew, thank you so much for inviting me to dinner. It was a most pleasant evening and I appreciate your hospitality. Now I really must be going.”
“So soon?” Suzanna said, visibly disappointed. “Why, it's early yet, not even nine. Don't go.”
“You're kind, Miss Suzanna, but…”
“What would it take to make you stay?” she asked anxiously, her heart overruling her head. “I can do more than just play the piano, you know. I read palms! I can predict the future. I do some great tricks with a deck of playing cards. I can tilt my head back, balance a full wineglass on my forehead and, without using my hands, sink all the way down to the floor and stretch out on my back without spilling a single drop! I can—”
“Mind your manners, Suzanna!” Matthew scolded. Emile frowned disapprovingly at her daughter.
Ty Bellinggrath was laughing, charmed by this outspoken young beauty. With her at his side, he crossed to the sofa, smiled at her mother and said, “Good night, Mrs. LeGrande. Again, thank you so much.”
“Do come back again, young man,” said Emile.
Matthew was on his feet now, ready to see his guest to the door. But the shy, retiring Ty said, “Please, stay where you are, Matt. Miss Suzanna will see me out.” He shifted his focus to her. “Won't you?”
“I will!” she eagerly exclaimed, lifting her bell-like skirts and preceding him out of the room and into the foyer. When he would have paused there to bid her good-night, she drew him out the front door and onto the chilly, moon-splashed veranda. There she turned to face him and eagerly asked, “Are you going to the Graysons' reception next Saturday evening at Stratford House?”
“If you are, I am.”
She liked his answer and told him, “I'll be there.”
“Then so will I.”
Suzanna started to speak, but Ty lifted a hand and touched her cheek lightly. His eyes flashed in the moonlight when he whispered, “Till then, Suzanna.”
Four
The pressure of Ty's hand at her waist was intensely exciting to Suzanna. That and the warm look in his eyes as he gazed down at her.
The two of them spun about the ballroom's crowded floor at Stratford House, oblivious to the other dancers. Lost in the first thrilling blush of budding romance, they were only vaguely aware of the seductive milieu surrounding them, engulfing them. Bouquets of freshly cut hothouse flowers. Candlelight falling on the polished parquet floor. The subtle scents of expensive perfumes. The swish of silks and satins and the flash of diamonds. Soft laughter and haunting violins and chilled champagne.
The romantic evening was to become even more so when, midway through the glittering reception, the clearly smitten Ty said against Suzanna's ear, “It's grown quite warm in here, hasn't it?”
To which she laughed and promptly replied, “Mother said never say ‘hot.' Why don't we go outdoors and get a breath of the fresh night air?”
Ty paused midstep. “I was hoping you'd say that.”
“And I have, so let's go.”
“I wouldn't want to compromise you, Miss Suzanna. Matthew would have my hide if I—”
“Matthew need never know. And will you kindly stop calling me Miss Suzanna?” She glanced warily around, then whispered, “I'll pretend I need to freshen up. Once upstairs, I'll slip down the back way and meet you in the rear gardens. No one will be there.”
“An
