He loved the way that she watched him when she did not realise that he was already watching her. He was almost certain that she was falling in love with him, but he did not want to force the process, for he was afraid. He had seen the look on her face that day in the conservatory when he had almost told her that he loved her. She was not yet ready to accept a declaration. He faced the thought squarely. He was afraid that if anything upset the delicate balance between them now, he would lose her and never recapture the happiness that was so close within his grasp. Which was why he had not hurried the physical intimacy between them even when every fibre of his being was demanding satisfaction. He had schooled himself to wait, even though the suspense was killing him.
So when Richard studied Deborah’s face that night and realised that something was troubling her, all his instincts immediately focussed upon her and what the difficulty might be.
She was sitting very tense and upright in her chair and for once there was no trace of good humour in her face. Indeed, she looked sunk in gloom. At one point she looked directly at him with a very speaking gaze, and Richard smiled at her. She did not smile back; instead her frown seemed to deepen and her blue eyes were cloudy with some emotion that he could not read as they rested on him.
The interval did not seem to come quickly enough.
They met in the theatre foyer.
‘Mrs Stratton,’ Richard said scrupulously, conscious of the press of the crowd and the curious eyes upon them.
Deb was not so reticent. It was clear that intense emotion was driving her, although Richard was not entirely sure what that emotion could be. She stepped close to him, one hand coming to rest on his lapel. ‘I must speak with you.’
Richard could read the distress in her eyes. So could others. He glanced round. People were staring a little now. To hell with them. He covered her hand with his own.
‘I will call on you in the morning-’ he began.
‘I cannot wait that long.’ Deb spoke in an urgent undertone. She bit her lip. There was a deep frown on her brow. Richard drew her closer.
‘Has something happened?’
‘Something dreadful.’ Her lips trembled. Her hand clenched on his jacket. ‘Guy’s wedding is cancelled.’
For a moment the words did not make sense to Richard. He was far more aware of the intimacy of her gesture and the appeal in her gaze. He felt a surge of pleasure that she had turned to him when she was distressed. Then the implication of her words hit him hard.
‘Your brother’s wedding is cancelled-’
‘Yes, and there is worse-his bride has run off with cousin Harry!’
Despite himself, Richard’s lips twitched. Rash elopements seemed to be a feature of the Walton family. He leaned closer still. His breath stirred her hair. She smelled distractingly of roses and honey. He was still holding her hand. ‘That is unfortunate, but what in particular distresses you?’
He caught a flash of lavender blue as she looked at him and then quickly away. ‘Our betrothal needs must be at an end.’
‘You mean that as the reasons for our betrothal are removed, you wish to call it off?’
He felt her fingers tremble within his. She had lowered her head now so that Richard could not read her expression. All he could see was the complicated arrangement of curls held up by the diamond slide. He wanted to put a hand beneath her chin and tilt her face up to his, but that was a step too far for the Woodbridge Theatre.
‘I think it would be for the best,’ Deb said in a steady voice. ‘Papa is insisting that we should still travel to Bath so that he may make your acquaintance. Unless you wish to be married off to me in earnest, I suggest that we tell him immediately that it was all a mistake.’
Richard thought quickly. To be married off to her in earnest was precisely what he desired, but he could see from Deb’s panic that it was too soon for her. He cursed silently. Matters had been progressing so well. Too well. He had had a mere fortnight to woo her in form and now it was too soon to make a proposal of marriage. She would run from him and he would lose all the ground that he had so carefully gained.
She was running already. He could sense it. She withdrew her hand from his and it felt as though her presence was slipping away from him.
Richard turned them slightly so that Deb had her back to a pillar and his broad shoulders blocked out the inquisitive glances of the crowd.
‘If you break the engagement, then your father may well insist you return to live at Walton Hall,’ he reminded her gently. ‘He will always be looking to find another suitor for you.’
He felt the shudder go through her. Was the thought of matrimony so dreadful to her that she trembled to even think of it? Richard feared it might be so. Her lashes flickered against her cheek.
‘I shall contrive a way out of the situation,’ she said obstinately. ‘You should not be constrained by that, my lord.’
Richard felt the frustration rip through him. She did not want his help now. He had served his purpose and now he was dismissed. He found he was close to losing his coolness.
‘You will contrive another scheme like this?’ he asked drily. ‘You have seen how well this one succeeded.’
That won him a quick glance. ‘I thought,’ Deb said coldly, ‘that you would be pleased. Matrimony can scarcely be appealing to a man of your stamp.’
Richard stepped closer to her and Deb moved back, instinctively trying to put a little distance between them. She did not succeed. Richard followed her with deliberation until her back was hard against the pillar and he was blocking her escape.
‘And what sort of a man is that?’ he asked pleasantly.
Her blue gaze widened, both at his tone and because of his proximity, which made no concessions to the crowd of people about them. She tilted her chin and held his gaze defiantly. ‘The rakish sort!’
Richard narrowed his gaze. Through his frustration and thwarted desire he was conscious that she was hiding something from him and was trying to distract him. She did not wish him to ask her how she felt about the broken engagement. She did not wish to be honest about her own emotions. It was the one area in which she had always held back from him.
Richard scanned her face, noting the stubborn set to her mouth and the determination in her eyes. He could think of only one way of breaking through that facade-to shock her.
He drew closer still, resting one hand against the pillar so that his arm brushed the curve of her breast. She tried to shift away from him, but was trapped by his body. He pressed his leg hard and most improperly against hers, through the slippery silk of her dress. Immediately he was aware of the heat emanating from her. She felt as though she was burning up with fever. Her face had flushed and he heard her swift, indrawn breath. He bent closer, speaking for her ears only.
‘Since you consider me to be a rake, I have a question for you. You have a habit of changing our agreements after they are made, Mrs Stratton. What I would like to know is whether you intend to release me from my other commission as well.’
He saw her eyes widen to their fullest extent as she took his meaning. She cast a swift, instinctive look over her shoulder. ‘We cannot talk about that here.’
‘Yes, we can. Do you still wish us to be lovers?’
Her head came up with a jerk. There was a silence between them whilst their gazes met and locked. Around them the throng swelled and chattered. Someone bumped into them and apologised. Neither of them spared a flicker of attention.
Deb cleared her throat. Her voice was husky. ‘If you must have an answer now, then I do not know.’
‘Not good enough.’ Richard bent closer and let his lips brush her ear. ‘What is it to be, yes or no?’
He felt the tremor that ran through her. Her eyes did not leave his.
‘I cannot-’
He took his hand from the pillar and caught her wrist tightly. ‘Yes, you can. Tell me.’
Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with the agitation of her breathing. ‘Very well. The answer is yes.’
‘Yes, you wish me to be your lover?’
‘Yes.’ It was a whisper.
‘You do not wish us to be betrothed, but you still wish to take me to your bed?’
