Page 21 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding

W ould he come?

The hands of the little carriage clock were moving ever closer to the hour. Ten o’clock. Flora paced the floor, her silk skirts whispering in the silence.

If he did not call for her, then the decision was made, she would not go to the Pavilion Ball. She would go to bed and return to Whilton tomorrow without seeing Matt Talacre again. That was what she should do, but she did not think she would be strong enough to refuse, if he came to her door.

She was caught up in a giddy excitement she had never known before.

It was as if, by leaving Whilton, she had slipped the leash, at least for a few days.

She had an opportunity to dance in a glittering ballroom with a man she had come to look upon as a friend.

It would all be quite harmless, but she knew that was not how others would see it, and if Quentin found out, it was very likely that he would call off the marriage .

She was playing with fire, but she could not stop now, even if it consumed her.

* * *

Matt reached the door of Flora’s room and paused.

He should not be doing this. He did not flirt with married women and Flora Warenne was as good as married.

He tried to ease his conscience by telling himself that was the point of befriending her.

She was betrothed to Lord Whilton and Matt hoped she would use her influence with the Viscount over the matter of the Rysbrack statue.

He knocked softly on the door. Perhaps she had thought better of it and would not answer. But then the door opened and his relief was so great he could not stop the smile that surged up from somewhere inside him.

‘Good evening, Miss Warenne.’

She looked a little pale as she regarded his cloaked figure, then her eyes fell to the folds of black silk draped over his arm.

‘You have a domino for me.’

‘As you see. Will you allow me?’

She nodded and stepped out into the corridor, quietly pulling the door closed behind her. He draped the cloak about her, resisting the temptation to allow his hands to linger on her shoulders, then he held up two strips of black silk by their ribbons.

‘I have masks, too, you see. ’

Moments later he was escorting her down the stairs. The hall was bustling with others dressed for the masquerade, some in cloaks, others in costume to disguise their identity. No one spared a second glance for one more masked couple, shrouded head to foot in their enveloping dominos.

It was a warm summer night and it did not take them long to walk the short distance to the Pavilion, where the dancing had already commenced and the music flowed out through the open windows. As they approached the door, Flora hesitated.

Matt glanced down at her. ‘Nervous?’

‘A little.’

‘You need not be. I will look after you.’ He placed his hand over her fingers and felt them tremble. ‘I give you my word I will keep you safe.’

She said quietly, ‘I shall rely upon you do to so, sir.’

* * *

The ballroom at night was every bit as magnificent as Flora had imagined it and the orchestra was excellent.

Her nerves settled once she was on the dance floor.

After all, this was the reason she had come.

Matt Talacre was a good dancer and an attentive partner, and she was soon lost in the joy of the music, caught up in the lively, colourful world of the dance.

Matt remained at her side for the next two dances, and the next. They only left the floor to partake of a simple supper, where they laughed and chattered together as if they had known each other for ever.

* * *

Afterwards Flora went back with him to the ballroom for two more sets before finally allowing him to guide her through one of the long windows and out into the balmy night air.

‘Are you glad you came?’ he asked.

‘Oh, yes, I do not know when I have enjoyed myself more! What I mean is,’ she went on, ‘this ballroom and the orchestra are both far superior to what we have in Whilton.’

‘Ah, so your pleasure has nothing to do with your dancing partner.’

‘As to that, I could not possibly say,’ she replied primly.

Through the slits in his mask his eyes blazed, as if they were on fire.

Something inside her flipped over and she scolded herself for being fanciful.

Reflected light from the ballroom, she told herself, refusing to read anything more into his heated look.

She quickly turned away and began to stroll along the terrace.

‘You cannot say,’ he repeated, falling into step beside her. ‘Not even a hint?’

‘Pray do not try to flirt with me.’

‘Hah, would I dare?’

‘I think you would dare a great deal,’ she replied, suddenly serious .

‘Not tonight. Tonight, I gave you my word I would keep you safe.’ He hesitated, ‘However much I want to take you in my arms and ravish you.’

She felt faint at the very thought of it. ‘Please, don’t say such things, Mr Talacre.’

‘Will you not call me Matt?’

‘You know we can only ever be friends.’

‘I am Matt to my friends. And my lovers.’

She uttered a little cry of frustration. ‘Can you never be serious?’

‘I was never more serious.’

There was no laughter in his voice now and Flora’s heart began to race, knowing that what she said next, what she did, could change everything.

The air around them almost crackled, charged with energy.

Her pulse was jumping, she felt so alive, so aware of the man beside her.

His powerful presence, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand.

Most of all the fresh scent of him, reminiscent of pine forests mixed with something exclusively male that made her want to reach out and grab him.

Flora took a step back in alarm, but it was not Matt Talacre who frightened her. It was her own wayward body.

‘We…we should return to the ballroom,’ she stammered.

‘Do you really want to dance again?’

‘No. ’

Her happiness was draining away, replaced by an aching sadness for what could never be.

‘No, neither do I.’ He held out his arm. ‘Will you walk with me? Nothing more, I swear. We will just talk.’

After the briefest hesitation she rested her fingers on his sleeve and they left the terrace. He guided her towards the pleasure gardens, where the lamps were still alight, although almost no one was walking there now.

They strolled along the dimly lit path and he said, ‘I have enjoyed dancing with you tonight.’

‘So, too, have I,’ she murmured.

‘More than I should, since you are betrothed to another man.’

‘Yes.’

‘And that will not change.’

‘No.’ Flora released his arm, but continued to walk beside him, hands clasped in front of her. ‘I should not have come tonight. It was very wrong of me.’

Something was obstructing her throat and she was obliged to swallow, hard, before she could bring herself to continue. To repeat the argument that had been revolving in her head all evening.

‘I love my fiancé, Mr Talacre. We have been engaged for two years. Everything is settled. I cannot cry off now.’

‘No, of course not. After all, we only met a few weeks ago. ’

‘And have seen each other, what, a half a dozen times?’

‘Yes. We hardly know each other.’

‘Quite.’ She kept her eyes fixed on the path ahead of them.

‘In fact,’ he said, ‘we are little more than strangers.’

They halted. His voice was deep and dark as the shadows around them. Flora turned to face him.

‘Strangers,’ she agreed, as his mouth came down upon hers in a kiss that rocked her to the core.

She clung to Matt, returning his kiss with a passion she had not known she possessed.

It would have shocked her, if she had been capable of thought.

He teased her lips apart, exploring her mouth with his tongue, and she felt something unfurling deep inside, a curl of desire spreading into every part of her body.

His hands roamed over the thin silk of her gown and she felt her breasts tightening in response.

A sigh escaped her as Matt trailed kisses along her jaw and down over her neck.

She pushed her body against his, not knowing what it was she wanted, except that it was more than this.

There is no more. You are betrothed to another man.

The thought was like sudden shower of cold water. She struggled in his hold and immediately he let her go.

‘Oh, I am sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I am so sorry. I cannot do this…it is wrong!’

* * *

Flora’s distress was all too clear in her voice. Matt dragged in a harsh breath, and another, fists clenched at his sides as he fought down the desire that threatened to overwhelm him. The hood had slipped back and her fiery curls trembled as she sobbed.

He said raggedly, ‘No. No, don’t cry, Flora, this is not your fault.’

‘Oh, but it is,’ she cried, looking up. ‘Don’t you see , I should never have come to Bellemonte!’

Instinctively he opened his arms and she fell against him, tearing off her mask and burying her face in his shoulder as the tears flowed, unrestrained. He held her, resting his cheek against her hair until at last she grew calmer.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she said, her voice muffled against his coat, ‘I should not have allowed this.’

‘Nay, sweetheart. Don’t blame yourself. We were swept away by the music and dancing and the night air.’

‘And I know you are not the marrying sort,’ she muttered, ‘You told me so, yourself.’

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’

Matt looked up at the black canopy of the trees overhead. It was true, marriage was not for him. Neither was stealing another man’s bride.

He reached up one hand and gently pushed an errant curl behind her ear .

‘I should have known better than to escort a beautiful woman to a ball. It was inevitable I would want to kiss her.’

His attempt at easing the mood fell flat.

Another shuddering sob racked Flora’s delicate frame and his arms tightened.

This was not what he had planned. He had wanted to show Flora the gardens, to strengthen their friendship in the hope that she would help him recover his property.

Instead he had proved himself to be the very worst sort of rogue.

He had known from the first that Flora was an innocent and yet he had flirted outrageously with her.

Confound it, he had damned well nearly seduced her!

Reluctantly he let her go. She had found a handkerchief from somewhere and was wiping her eyes.

‘I think I should go back to the hotel now.’

‘Of course.’

He scooped up her mask from the floor and handed it to her, standing silent. She fixed it in place just as a party of revellers came into view and surged unsteadily along the path. Matt helped her pull up her hood.

‘I had better escort you.’

He thought she might object, but she merely nodded and they set off, side by side, not touching. In silence.

‘What will you do now?’ asked Matt, as they approached the entrance gates. He could see the square, flickering with lamps, before them.

‘I shall go back to Whilton and forget all about this.’ She added, after a slight pause, ‘Not completely, I am not sure I shall ever do that.’

‘I only hope I have not ruined you,’ he murmured.

‘Not at all,’ said Flora robustly. ‘It was only one kiss.’

But what a kiss! Matt had never experienced such heat, such desire with any woman before. He had been lost as soon as their lips met.

Forbidden fruit always tastes sweeter. You’ll get over it. As will Flora.

He straightened his shoulders. He must make this as easy as possible for her.

He said, ‘Aye, ’twas a very pleasant interlude, Miss Warenne, and hopefully no one will ever know of it. You will go back and marry your Viscount; I will continue to manage Bellemonte. Our paths will not cross again.’

‘And the statue of Ares?’

‘It will be returned to Bellemonte, but I shall leave any future negotiations to the lawyers.’

She nodded. ‘I sincerely hope you are successful.’

They had reached the gates and Matt stopped.

‘It is but a few steps from here to the hotel. You had best go alone. I will watch you, all the way. To make sure you are safe. ’

‘Thank you.’ She hesitated, then said in a rush, ‘It was foolish of me to come here. Naive. And yet, I do not regret it. Any of it.’

She was gazing at him, her eyes shining with tears, and a faint, brave smile trembling on her lips. It took every ounce of Matt’s willpower not to drag her back into his arms.

‘Goodbye, Flora. Be happy with your Viscount.’

Without a word she hurried off, the black domino floating about her, giving the impression that she was some ethereal creature, gliding across the square. Matt watched her until she disappeared into the lighted portal of the hotel, then with a sigh he turned and strode back into the gardens.