amongst an underworld of danger.
She had only ever seen him once and at a distance in the garden of the Creightons’ ball two months prior. There he had been entwined in the arms of a woman who was known for her questionable morals and loose ways, rouged lips turned to his in supplication. Miss Amelia Bourne, standing with Sephora, had been quick to relay the gossip that surrounded the earl, her eyes full of infatuation and interest.
‘Douglas is beautiful, is he not, even with that scar and though he is seen less and less frequently in social company these days, when he does appear there is always gossip. I, for one, should not listen to any such slander if a man could kiss me like that...?’ Amelia let the rest slide into query as she laughed.
Sephora had returned home after that particular ball and dreamed of what it must feel like to be kissed with such complete abandon, wild beauty and open lustfulness.
Well, now she almost knew in a way.
Shaking away that heated thought, she sat up. ‘Is there something to drink?’
Her sister poured her a full glass of sweetened lemonade with mint and rosemary leaves on top and helped her to sip it.
‘Where is Richard?’
‘He was in the library last evening with Father, trying to smooth down the gossip and contain the rumour that is rife around the ton.’
‘Rumour?’ Sephora could not quite understand what was said. Gesturing to Maria that she had had enough of the lemonade, she lay back.
‘You were wrapped around Douglas like a blanket from head to toe as he came to the bank and it seemed to us as if you did not wish to let go. Richard had to pry open your fingers from St Cartmail’s personage.’
‘I was drowning.’
‘You were wanton. The front of your jacket had been ripped open and the material on your bodice was gaping.’ This summary was accompanied by a hearty laugh. ‘And it suited you. You looked magnificently alive.’
Sephora ignored that nonsense completely. ‘Where is Mama?’
‘In bed after ingesting a stiff toddy. She should be out until the morrow so you shan’t have to deal with her worry. The one thing she did keep saying over and over was that at least you and Richard Allerly had announced your betrothal so you were not entirely ruined.’
‘It was hardly my fault the horse reacted so violently.’
‘Mama would say drowning might have been altogether more circumspect given the intimate clutch your rescuer held you in and your dreadful state of undress.’
Sephora smiled. ‘You have always exaggerated events, Maria, but thank you for staying here with me at least. It is a comfort.’
Her sister took her hand in her own, the soft warmth of her grip familiar. ‘You have lost Richard’s diamond ring in the incident. I do not think he knows this fact yet and will probably not be well pleased.’
‘It was always too big and I saw the exact pattern in Rundell’s when I was in the shop a few weeks ago so it shouldn’t be too difficult to replace.’
Maria laughed. ‘Just like Richard to settle for a cheap stock item, Sephora, when you plainly deserve so much more.’
‘I was happy with it.’
‘I doubt Francis St Cartmail would be so stingy with his newfound money were he to be wed. It is said he returned from the Americas as a wealthy man made rich from the striking of gold. He looked awfully sick after your rescue, though, almost falling over in fact with...a sort of shaking panic. I hope he is recovered.’
Sephora remembered that suddenly, the bone-deep weariness of him as he had struggled the last few yards through the mud. ‘Was he hurt anywhere else?’
‘Apart from your scratches to his face, you mean?’
When she nodded, Maria went on.
‘Not that I could see. I wondered why the earl did not stay to receive the adulation of those who had observed the rescue, though, even given his questionable reputation. It was a fine and daring thing he did and the water is deep there in the middle and cold. Richard was standing next to you, of course, with his thousand-yard stare and his implacable credentials. Perhaps that is what put Francis St Cartmail off?’
‘I don’t even remember Richard being there at all. I know he was on the horse beside me, I recall that, but after...’
‘Douglas and his two friends were walking the other way when you screamed. They had just got to the bridge.’
Dark hair and dark clothes and the feel of knotted skin under her fingers as she had reached for him and held on.
Somehow those few moments seemed more real to Sephora than anything else in her entire life. A reaction, she supposed, to her near drowning and the fright of it, for nothing truly dreadful had ever happened to her before. Maria was watching her carefully, the beginnings of a frown across her brow.
‘Do you ever think, Sephora, that incidents like this might happen for a reason?’
‘A reason?’
‘You have not looked happy of late and you have seemed distracted. Ever since you agreed to become Richard’s bride, come to think of it. He has all the money in the world, a beautiful house and a family who think he is stellar and that is not even taking into account his position in society, but...’ She stopped.
‘You never liked him, Maria. Ever since the start.’
‘He is pompous and self-righteous, always congratulating himself on his next achievement and his latest triumph.’
Despite herself Sephora began to laugh. ‘He does a lot of good for others...’
‘And more than good for himself,’ her sister countered.
‘He is kind to his family...’
‘And kinder to those who can aid him in his steady ascent to power within the ton.’
‘He loves me.’
Maria nodded. ‘Yes, I will give him that, but who does not adore you, Sephora? I have never yet met a soul who says a bad word of you and that includes the numerous suitors you’ve let down gently in their quest for your hand.’
‘You give me too much praise, Maria.’
Sometimes I am not nice. Sometimes I could scream with the boredom of being exactly who it is I have become. Sometimes there is another person in me just under the surface struggling for breath and freedom.
The touch of St Cartmail’s lips to her mouth, the feel of his hand across her neck, firm and forceful. The whispered shared air that he’d given her when she had held no more herself.
Douglas had lifted her into his arms like a child, as though she weighed nothing, as though he might have carried her the length of the river and never felt it. There was a certain security in the strength of a man, she thought, a protection and a magic. Richard would barely be able to lift her with his city body and
