A Wallflower Christmas Page 46

“Come here,” he said quietly, his expression implacable.

Her eyes went huge. Wild, half-hysterical giggles rose in her throat. She tried to stand her ground. “Marcus, there are some things that shouldn’t be done in front of children or horses.”

“There are no children here. And my horses don’t gossip.”

Lillian tried to dart past him. Marcus caught her easily, tossing her onto the blanket-covered hay. And as she yelped and protested, he tore the nightgown from her. His mouth crushed over hers, his hands sliding over her body with insolent demand. A cry snagged in her throat as he bent to her br**sts, clamping the tips gently with his teeth, then soothing the little aches with his tongue. He did all the things that he knew would arouse her, his lovemaking gentle but ruthless, until she gasped out a few words of surrender. Unfastening his trousers with a few deft tugs, he thrust deeply inside her with primitive force.

Lillian shivered in ecstasy and gripped his muscular flexing back. He kissed her, his mouth rough and greedy, his body moving in a powerful rhythm. “Marcus,” Lillian gasped, “I’ll never doubt you again…oh, God …”

He smiled privately against her hair and pulled her hips up higher against his. “See that you don’t,” he murmured. And long into the night, he had his way with her.

CHAPTER 14

Hannah tried in vain to find an opportunity to talk to Rafe the next day. He was impossible to find. And so were Natalie and the Blandfords, and the Bowmans. She had the uneasy feeling that something was brewing.

Stony Cross Manor was swarming with activity, guests singing, eating, drinking, while the children put on productions with a huge toy theatre set up in one of the common rooms.

Quite late in the day, Hannah finally caught a glimpse of Rafe as she passed by Lord Westcliff’s private study. The door had been left open, and he could be seen inside talking with Westcliff and Mr. Swift. As she paused uncertainly, Rafe glanced in her direction. Instantly he pushed away from the desk he had been leaning against, and murmured to the others, “One moment.”

He came out to the hallway, his expression uncharacteristically sober. But a smile tipped the corners of his mouth as he looked down at her. “Hannah.” The softness of his voice sent a ripple of awareness down her back.

“You…you said you wanted to, talk with me,” she managed to say.

“Yes, I did. I do. Forgive meI’ve been occupied by a few matters.” He reached out to touch her as if he couldn’t help it, lightly fingering the loose fabric of one of her sleeves. “We’ll need time and privacy for what I want to discussboth of which seem to be in short supply today.”

“Perhaps later tonight?” she suggested hesitantly.

“Yes. I’ll find you.” Letting go of her sleeve, he gave her a slight, gentlemanly bow. “Until tonight.”

WHEN HANNAH WENT UPSTAIRS TO HELP NATALIE CHANGE INTO her ballgown, and then ready herself, she was mystified to discover that Natalie was already fully dressed.

Her cousin looked magnificent in a pale blue satin gown trimmed with bunches of matching blue tulle, her hair dressed in upswept golden curls. “Hannah!” Natalie exclaimed, leaving their room in the company of Lady Blandford. “I have something to tell yousomething very important”

“You may tell her later,” Lady Blandford interrupted, seeming as distracted as her daughter. “Lord Blandford and Lord Westcliff are downstairs, Natalie. It will not do to keep them waiting.”

“Yes, of course.” Natalie’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “We’ll speak soon, Hannah.”

Bemused, Hannah watched them hurry along the hallway. Something was definitely afoot, she thought, and a rush of worry caused a cool sweat to collect beneath the layers of her clothes.

A lady’s maid waited for her inside the bedroom. “Miss Appleton. Lady Westcliff sent me to help you get ready for the ball.”

“Did she? That is very kind. I don’t usually require much help, but”

“I’m very good at arranging hair,” the maid said firmly. “And Lady Westcliff told me to use her very own pearl hairpins for you. Now, if you’ll sit at the dressing table, miss …?”

Touched by Lillian’s generosity in sending her own maid, Hannah complied. It took an eternity to curl her hair with hot tongs, and arrange it in pinned-up curls, with gleaming white pearls scattered amid the dark locks of her hair. The maid helped her into the white ballgown, and gave her a pair of silver-embroidered silk stockings from Evie. After fastening a pearl necklace from Annabelle Hunt around Hannah’s neck, the maid helped her to tug on a pair of long white satin gloves from Daisy Swift. The wallflowers, Hannah thought with a grateful smile, were her own group of fairy godmothers.

They finished with a dusting of powder on her nose and forehead, and some rose petal salve for her lips.

Hannah was vaguely startled by her own elegant reflection, her eyes wide and green, the elaborate coiffure contrasting pleasingly with the simplicity of the white gown.

“Very beautiful, miss,” the maid pronounced. “You’d best hurry downstairs…the ball will be starting soon.”

HANNAH WAS TOO NERVOUS TO BE TEMPTED BY THE MAGNIFICENT buffet of delicacies laid out on long tables. The refreshments would be enjoyed by the guests during the dance, and later in the evening a formal supper would be served. As soon as she appeared in the ballroom, she was joined by Lillian and Daisy, who exclaimed over her appearance.

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