Wolfsgate Page 18

  “Mr. Blakelock has told me just now about your engagement,” Justine said. “Congratulations to you both. Have you set a date?”

  “Oh, no, not yet. Very soon though.” Mariah shrugged her shoulders. Andrew brooded over his wine glass. Mariah suddenly inhaled deeply. “Dearest, won’t you come? The orchestra is beginning to play, and I do so wish to dance.” She twisted her fingers together.

  “Of course, my darling.” Andrew took her arm in his. They disregarded Justine and strode off towards the dance floor. A servant filled the sudden void with a tray of red punch. “Perfect,” she curled her fingers around a cool cup and savored the sweet refreshment.

  “Lady of the Manor, eh?” That acerbic voice she knew so well slithered over her from behind. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” William’s dark eyes simmered over her, his thin lips set in a line. Unfortunately, the slight effect of the punch was not enough to dull her senses just yet.

  “I want to know how you did it, love. You seem to have him wrapped around your little finger already.” He leaned in closer. “Or is it around your quim?”

  Justine took in a slight breath. She kept her gaze riveted on Andrew and Mariah dancing. Mariah seemed as if she were a pixie floating in the sweet air around her fiancée.

  “Wherever did you get those earrings?” William stared at the spray of rubies dangling from her ears. “Those are Aunt Caroline’s. I’ll be damned, where did you—?” He let out a hiss. Justine drained her punch. He took the glass from her hand and grabbed her elbow pulling her behind a column out of traffic’s way. “What else did you hide in that bloody house?”

  “Lord Jeremy gave them to me to keep safe for his son,” Justine replied.

  William leaned in closer. “Did he now?”

  “It’s never enough for you is it? You pillaged that house and his bank account over and over again. I wonder, do your wife and your father-in-law know of any of this?”

  “Sir?”

  They both glared at the servant who held a silver tray filled with used glasses. William released her arm and deposited her cup on the tray. The servant receded.

  “You leave my wife out of it,” William said.

  “Most happily.”

  The music swelled once more and people rushed towards the dance floor. William crossed his arms, the edges of his lips tipped up. She smelled the liquor and the tobacco on his breath mixed with his spicy cologne. “Tell me, Lady Graven, how was your first time together?” The back of Justine’s throat stung. William let out a low chuckle. “He must have been like a ravenous wolf after so many years without a woman, and to now have a wife available to him?” William barked out a laugh. The couples next to them glanced over. William smiled easily.

  “Or perhaps he was too intoxicated with his restorative to take the necessary actions required?” he whispered by her ear. “Pity. God knows what is really going through his muddled brain though, eh? He must be damaged after all that time in hospital, and I don’t mean only the limp and the scars. Shame that. Definitely not the same Brandon. He seems a bit, I don’t know…gloomy, stiff. But it’s obvious to me there is a volatile creature lurking inside. I’d watch your step with him.”

  “Such brotherly concern,” Justine said. “You expected us to be miserable? You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?”

  William’s dark eyes pierced hers. “Are you foolish enough to think he trusts you? He’ll take his fill of you, then no doubt he’ll tire of you and find a mistress soon enough. Won’t be difficult. Look at all the attention he’s getting this evening. You’re no match for that. Few are.”

  Justine raised her chin. “I do believe your wife is first in line on that score.” The moment the words spilled from her mouth Justine regretted them.

  William followed Justine’s gaze to the other side of the dance floor where Amanda was in an animated conversation with Brandon and Thomas. Her face beamed as she spoke, the laughter flowing from her with ease. Brandon’s relaxed face smiled down at her as Thomas erupted into cackles at a witty remark she must have made. Amanda’s hand flew to Brandon’s upper arm and rested there.

  William cleared his throat. “I saw you just now with Andrew, does your husband know about that?”

  “Yes, he does. In fact, I was just congratulating Andrew and Mariah on their engagement.”

  Lilting music, dancers’ clacking steps, ringing laughter and chatter filled the hall, but William and Justine remained standing side by side silently witnessing Amanda and Brandon from across the enormous room.

  Amanda, smiling brilliantly, her cheeks flushed, was focused on Brandon alone. Thomas drifted away from them. Brandon leaned over closing the distance between them and whispered in her ear as Amanda’s eyebrows lifted, her delicate neck slanted. A knot twisted inside Justine. She glanced up at William whose body had grown rigid.

  Justine had to say it, it was too fitting. “They really do make an attractive couple. Just as I remember.” William let out a curse under his breath.

  “Will you be monopolizing your sister all evening, Treharne?” Charles’s smooth voice cut between them. He grinned and bowed his head at Justine.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Montclare.”

  “Do go find another amusement then. You’ve kept her to yourself long enough. Years, in fact, old boy. How overprotective can a brother be?”

  “She’s all yours.” William left them.

  “Was he being annoying, Lady Graven?”

  “No more than usual.”

  Charles tilted his head at her. “You seem tense, my dear.” He offered her a cup of punch. “Perhaps I can provide relief?”

  Justine laughed. It felt good to laugh for a change this evening. She glanced at Charles as she sipped from the glass. It also felt nice to be flirted with rather than accosted, to be regarded as a lustrous pearl and not a mundane irritation. “Was this a rescue mission, then?” she asked.

  “Something like that. Shall we dance?” He took the empty glass from her and set it absently on the edge of a nearby pedestal on which towered an enormous porphyry urn. “Come, don’t refuse me.”

  She gave him her hand, and he took it. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “Don’t worry about Graven.” Charles moved closer to her as they walked together toward the dancers, his honey-toned cologne lingering between them. “Amanda’s entertaining him.”

  He might as well have splashed her with cold water. “I’m not worried about him.” Charles led her into position as the music began again. “Actually I’m worried about you, Mr. Montclare. You must forgive me, I’m rather out of practice. I wouldn’t want you to be made a spectacle of for my poor dancing.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Do not fret over the steps, simply keep your eyes on me. I will guide you.” That certainly wouldn’t be a hardship; his gold-flecked brown eyes were captivating.

  Charles was indeed an excellent dancer. Once Justine forgave herself for missing a few steps here and there, she relaxed and began to better follow his lead, heeding his whispered directives whenever they were close. She laughed and danced on until the music was suddenly over. Everyone clapped for the musicians, but his warm fingers took her hand in his. “Dance with me again.”

  She let out a laugh. “When?”

  “Now, you breathtaking creature.” Justine looked away from the shining glint in his eyes. “Your husband won’t mind, my lady. I overheard him tell Amanda that he won’t be dancing with that injured leg of his. So consider me your partner this evening. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” She had enjoyed it immensely, but her head strained at the constant mention of Brandon and Amanda in the same sentence.

  Thomas jostled next to them and held out his hand to Justine. “Give us a turn, Lady Graven. It would be a delight.” He bowed before her. Justine grinned at Charles.

  “Oh, go ahead with you.” Charles placed Justine’s hand in Thomas’s outstretched palm.

  She and Thomas danced the next piece, then Matthew claimed her for the
next. She thoroughly enjoyed Matthew’s constant chatter, which made concentrating on the steps less important. They applauded for the orchestra, then Charles’s hand slid around hers and led her back to a spot within the line.

  “All mine again,” he murmured. Justine swallowed hard. Charles was very attractive and most attentive, and he knew exactly how to use his devastating appeal by lacing it with the right amount of agreeable yet mischievous looks and brief touches without ever overdoing. It was a heady combination of wickedness and protective caring. Justine was certain many young ladies constantly fell under his beguiling spell.

  The dance began. They were turning, bowing to their neighbors on the left, hands together once more in the center, then they turned to the right. Down the long line of dancers, she spotted a mirthless Andrew partnering his sister. Georgina danced next to them with her brother, Thomas. Her smile widened and her eyes lit up when she caught Justine’s attention, and she winked. Justine grinned at her.

  Charles squeezed her fingertips tighter to catch her attention. “Go, go,” he urged. She let go of his hand and turned right in a circle around the gentleman standing next to her before she met with Charles once more in the center of the line. A dark, glowering figure gripping a cane amidst the spectators caught her eye, and a chill swept through her. On her next turn she glanced over once again. Brandon stood alone on the edge of the dance floor, his chin held high as he watched her and Charles.

  “I see your husband is admiring your dancing talent from afar, Lady Graven,” Charles’s lips quirked. She tried to keep her attention on the dance. Charles made more clever conversation, leaning into her frequently, but she barely heard what he said. She was too aware of Brandon staring at them, his fingers making small jittery movements at his side, but otherwise perfectly still. The music concluded, and she congratulated herself for having survived it.

  Charles bowed before her. “A pleasure, my lady.” He nodded at Brandon over her shoulder and sauntered off.

  Brandon’s warm breath grazed her neck. “The gentleman prince diverting you?”

  She spun to face him. “I haven’t danced in years, and Charles has been helpful.”

  His lips twitched. “Helpful?”

  “Yes, helpful in remembering the steps.” She smiled slightly. “And Mrs. William Treharne, how is she?”

  Brandon said nothing and remained perfectly still. He suddenly inhaled leaning into her. “You are a fine dancer, Lady Graven.” Justine’s heart sank. He had made a distracting compliment, thereby avoiding her snappish question. He’d never answered her like this before. He was placating her, and it felt false, horribly false.

  A first.

  She averted her gaze to the lustrous marble floor. “Thank you. I enjoy dancing.”

  “I regret my injured leg prohibits me from enjoying this entertainment with you,” he said. His languid eyes held hers, and her pulse quickened immediately. How could she possibly be annoyed with him and yet ignited with desire for him at the very same time?

  Justine raised her chin. The ladies who danced in front of them were all stealing glances at her husband. Of course they were. He was an exceptionally handsome specimen of manhood. His tall, trim form, almost black hair, pale green eyes, and the sculpted lines of his face made him striking. The scars running down the side of his temple only completed the virile, enigmatic package. And if he smiled, as he had several times this evening, his whole face relaxed and vibrated with a cryptic energy whose mystery you wanted to be the one to solve and hold onto.

  She couldn’t fault them for their appreciation. But, dear Lord, if he were to indulge in any lingering feelings he had for Amanda, certainly it would enrage William, and it would wound her.

  Wound her?

  A shiver raced down her spine. She had thought she had been in love with Andrew but, in comparison, that was more a bond of affection and tenderness, because this, this was—

  Her eyes slid to Brandon who continued to stare at her, trying to be patient, trying to gauge her thoughts. He raised an eyebrow at her.

  He was maddening, unnerving.

  “Justine.” His voice was low, gentle, yet insistent. A flutter went off in her stomach despite her irritation.

  Brandon put her arm through his and pulled her close. Her heart skipped a beat with his familiar warmth pressed against her. His rich and earthy scent enveloped her causing yet another riot inside her.

  “My head is aching,” he whispered in her ear. “Come, let’s go outside.” Justine only nodded.

  The room was crowded with people, and the scores of lit candles added to the already stifling warmth. Justine led him out on the wide terrace which overlooked the extensive, carefully designed back gardens. There were only a few couples talking, strolling. The autumn night air was brisk.

  “Justine, my dear, so good to see you.” Mrs. Collins, an old friend of Justine’s mother, approached them. “Lord Graven.” She bowed her head, a small smile lit her face. “I heard you had married. I’m so pleased for you both.”

  “Thank you Mrs. Collins,” Justine said. She and Brandon exchanged two or three pleasantries, then Brandon tugged at Justine’s arm and they continued walking the length of the terrace. There were slim, tall, potted topiary trees on opposite sides of each of the terrace doors, and at the last door there were a few feet of space between the tree and the end of the terrace.

  Brandon propped his cane in the corner and pulled her into his arms. His hands went to either side of her face, his molten gaze fell to her lips, and she held her breath. His mouth descended on hers, crushing her. She pushed at his chest and managed to tear her mouth away from his.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Kissing my wife.” His lips and teeth nuzzled the line of her jaw and traveled down her throat. Heat sparked deep inside her, and she clenched her jaw to constrain it. How did this happen with just one touch from him, one kiss? For God’s sake, what was this?

  It most certainly was a sort of madness. She had never felt this madness with Andrew.

  “Perhaps you’re excited by the attention from all the ladies this evening?” Her neck stiffened against his hand.

  “I only want your attentions, Lady Graven,” he said into the side of her throat. “Your attentions excite me.” He kissed the delicate skin under her jaw, wrapping a trail of molten heat around her. “It’s quite a combination really.” He let out a low laugh between soft kisses. “You arouse me, yet you keep me calm and even. I believe you’re my new craving.”

  “You have quite a few of those it seems,” she said through short breaths.

  His grip on her tightened. “I saw you with Charles just now, smiling, so very much at ease.” Justine blinked up at him. His tense fingers rubbed her scalp at the base of her skull. “I know I cannot give you that.”

  “And what exactly would that be?”

  “Effortless affability. I don’t seem to have it. I suspect I did once.”

  “In spades.”

  “I can give you other things,” he breathed over her parted lips.

  Brandon’s voice was full of dark promise, and his words pressed on her chest. But a gnawing question uncoiled in her brain, and her back remained stiff under his possessive touch.

  “Yet you were all ease and laughter with Mrs. Treharne, enjoying each other’s company so very much all evening?” She rushed to get the words out before she lost the courage, before he kissed her again, for then she most certainly would not only lose her resolve, but her wits as well.

  His eyes glittered in the shadows, and his one hand slid from her neck to rest against the wall behind her. The cool air stung her skin immediately. “Oh, she’s pretty to look at, as ever she was,” he said. “But I want your taste to fill my mouth.” His one hand spanned her throat. “I want to make you cry out my name. I like it very much when you do that, Justine. Just the thought makes me want to lift your dress up over your thighs right this very second and…”

  He whispered in her ear
how he would take her on the terrace and how he was sure she’d respond. Her eyelids sank closed, her breath deepened. Raw talk like that from his mouth only churned her blood with a ferocity, and he damn well knew it. A low cry escaped her, despite her best efforts at control, and their hips pressed against each other’s on instinct. She could no longer ignore the crude ache swelling within her, the heat prickling her skin, nor the hardness between his legs which throbbed right through her silk gown to her very core.

  Her new lilac silk ball gown.

  Because they were at a ball at a great house.

  A great house filled with a great number of people. People they knew.

  She pulled away from him, but he yanked her right back into his embrace, one hand pressing over her rear. His mouth descended on hers again, taking its fill.

  It all became clear.

  Amanda had aroused him, and now he had come to her, his wife, his legal bed partner, for his release.

  How bloody convenient.

  Justine shoved at his chest and twisted out of his embrace. His eyes flared, and he gripped her arms tighter. “Don’t!” she said. The stinging in the back of her throat inflamed. “Control yourself.”

  His head jerked up at her “Don’t play games with me, Justine!”

  “I wouldn’t know how, Lord Graven,” she said. “I could learn though, if you would like. You seem to be setting a fine example this evening.” His brows slammed together, his jaw stiffened.

  “Brandon, there you are.”

  Justine’s heart came to a screeching halt at the sound of that voice.

  That voice that used his first name. Because she could. Because they had an intimate past, an age-old connection.

  Amanda.

  BRANDON’S IRON GRIP on Justine’s arms relaxed, and she pulled back from him immediately.

  “We’ve held a place for you at our whist table.” Amanda’s voice exuded a medley of calm, amusement, and tedium. “Everyone’s waiting for you.” Her cool gaze flicked over Justine and returned to Brandon with a slight smile. “You promised, Brandon.”