Amusement glinted in his eyes, and it was evident her counterthreat had no impact on him. Although if she were being honest, she was unconcerned because she knew Rhys would allow no one to harm her. The awareness felt right…and frightening.
“Rhys has been restless for days on end, tonight even more so, then he went outside and reentered with you, and all that dangerous tension disappeared. I am curious as to why the only woman in disguise in my establishment is the one to produce this miracle in a man who is for all intents and purposes my brother.”
Delight rushed through her, and she did not mask her reaction by the man’s intense frown.
“It’s mutually assured madness, I see,” Mr. O’Malley drawled and then melted away into the crowd.
A hand gripped her waist and spun her about. Rhys.
“Dance with me, my lady.”
“I…don’t know the steps,” she said with a light laugh. “What is it?”
“It’s an Irish reel. I’ll lead, and you follow my command.”
The flowing strains of the music drifting made her want to move to its rhythm. She sank into a deep curtsy, feeling positively wicked. She stepped into his arms. He spun around her, left, then right, their movements evocative and thrilling. She was a quick learner, and in short time, she was mimicking his steps and swaying her hips with vigor to the music. The crowd started clapping, and then men broke from their partners…and started to dance. Their feet flew over the floor in quick, powerful, yet so-graceful staccato beats. She laughed, delighted with their display. They broke formation to claim back their partners, and a few seconds later, Georgiana was tapping ungracefully beside Rhys and laughing so much her side hurt.
With a shout of laughter, their reel ended. She even felt a bout of dizziness and held out her hand to steady herself. He caught her, a powerful but warm masculine wall of support. Tipping her head to meet his eyes, she encountered a gaze warm with something more than passion. Admiration, perhaps.
She’d never had an evening quite like this. “Thank you, Rhys…that…that was marvelous. It has been ages since I’ve enjoyed myself so thoroughly.”
His laughing breath touched her brow. “We’re not done yet.”
The pulse of the music beat in her blood, and she found herself once again swaying to the rhythm of the fiddle. Suddenly he was there, holding her scandalously close in a bastardized version of the elegant waltz. She gasped when his hips rolled suggestively onto hers, and the crowd hooted and cheered. Breathing hard, she turned her head and a moan spilled from her when his teeth nipped along her throat over her fluttering pulse.
They twirled and dipped, swayed and swirled in a dance that was the waltz, yet far more sensual. Georgiana felt wild with abandon, wanton, cherished as Rhys moved with her. He was all male yet so incredibly beautiful.
“I wish this night would not end.”
He laughed low and deep, the sound rippling through her. “We will have dozens more.”
Only dozens? She was helpless against the sweeping sensations working through her body. Georgiana swallowed, hating the lump in her throat. Pressing even closer to Rhys, she freed her mind and swayed with him. The night flew away at a very unusual rate as she danced with her lover, swept into a world of pure feeling.
Chapter Fourteen
Rhys whisked Georgiana through the still-dancing and rowdy crowd. He led her down a long hallway. Here and there couples murmured and laughed in the shadows, some even moaned, indicating the type of play in which they indulged. She laughed breathlessly beside him, hurrying to keep apace, her turquoise eyes sparkling with excitement. She was quite remarkable.
He glanced down, a smile pulling at his lips at her evident enjoyment. Many tonight had watched her covetously and others with avid curiosity, for she was the only patron to be so disguised. She glowed with gentility amongst the coarseness, and many perhaps suspected she was a lady but knew better than to let their curiosity leave the gambling hell.
At the end of the hallway, a man stood guard at a large oak door. Members of The Asylum were not allowed in the maze gardens Riordan tended to with such care. The guard, however, understood that Riordan had only a few friends he trusted to have access to most rooms and an outdoor section of the club, and Rhys was such a friend. The door was pulled open, and he deftly maneuvered her through, pushing it closed behind him.
“Oh! It’s beautiful.” Dozens of lanterns were attached along the trellis. Honeysuckle and jasmine graced the gardens. The air was redolent with the scent of fruit and flowers.
He pulled her farther into the labyrinth, following the lantern-lit pathway to an inner alcove. He faced her, tugging her close to him, so they were flush.
“I have a gift for you.”
Surprise flared in her eyes. “What is it?”
He reached into his pocket and retrieved a slim leather case. “This is for you.”
Her face glowed as she took it from him and gently opened the case. They were bloodred rubies formed in an intricate necklace. The stones seemed alive, sparkling with vivid beauty. “They are the most exquisite rubies I have ever seen. I’ve never seen such stones on our shores.”
The hard edges of his mouth softened into a pleased smile. “They once belonged to an Ottoman pasha.”
Her eyes lit with mischief. “And you did him an unmatched favor?”
“Something of the sort. They are now yours.”
She lifted stunned eyes to him. “Oh, Rhys, I cannot accept such a gift. They are far too expensive, and something you should give…”
“Give my mistress? My lover?”
Her tongue darted and wetted her lips. “I was going to say your wife.”
A role, he realized, he wanted to see her in, despite its impossibility. He was allowing himself to cross barriers because of the way she made him yearn for more. He frowned, suddenly restless. How had he not known there was a missing piece in his life? She had captured his attention and his thoughts with so little effort, it gave him pause. Here he was, wrapping himself into a web of his own making over a woman who likely saw him as nothing more than a temporary plaything. “I’ve been holding on to them for years. Now I know why. They were made for you, and I would be honored if you would accept them.”
“Thank you, Rhys.” She tipped on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I will cherish them forever.”
“You will wear them for me alone…soon.”
An unladylike snort was her only response.
“Perhaps tomorrow I can see you splayed atop silken sheets, waiting for me, only wearing rubies.”
“Is that so?”
“Hmm, how do you feel about going away with me, for a week?” He watched every nuance of her expressive face. Excitement had flared in the depths of her turquoise eyes before caution had her hooding her gaze. “Discreetly, of course,” he added.
“I have duties to attend. I…I simply cannot go away for a few days, not so suddenly.”
“Tell me, what responsibilities does a duchess have?”
“I suppose you believe I sit around aimlessly with servants attending to my every whim.”
His hands smoothed over her back, relishing the feel of her delicate curves. “I wasn’t being facetious, I am curious about you.”
She smiled in apparent delight. She tugged him toward a wrought-iron bench, and he lowered himself onto it. Pleasure burst into his veins when instead of beside him she sat on his thighs and wrapped her hands around his neck.
“My son is the seventh Duke of Hardcastle. I manage my son’s estates until he comes of age, and I have been slowly teaching him how to be a gentleman.”
“Your son is six?”
Georgiana chuckled. “Yes, his birthday was only a few weeks ago. He is very smart, and a bit stubborn. Once a week we visit his tenants so they may know him. He is kind and loves to play with their children with no ideas that he should preserve a distinction of rank. My mother and even my brother berate me for allowing it, but I desire my son to see the
honor and goodness in people before he considers their position within society. We are building a school and a hospital in a nearby village, and as a part of understanding the responsibility that will sit on his shoulders a few years from now, we visit the work sites once every other week.”
She tilted her head as she watched him closely. “I also manage my own wealth. My grandmother bequeathed me an inheritance of fifty thousand pounds that I have since tripled. And my widow’s portion was very generous. I find some days I spend hours reading investment reports and poring through ledgers, and then there are other days I am consumed with balls, the theater, and the opera.”
“And are there days when you are just free?”
A radiant smile split her face. “There are, Rhys, and today…tonight is such a day.”
“I’ve been trying to unearth your secrets,” he said softly.
Her fingers tightened around his nape. “Have you?”
“Yes. I woke up a couple of weeks past with this hunger to know you. And I sent my sparrows deep, seeking information about you.”
“And did you find any?” she asked, amusement dancing in her gaze. “Because you are my only secret. Do not keep me in suspense, what did your…sparrows uncover?”
“Politically speaking, you are a member of the Tory party, shocking and quite scandalous, since your late husband and your family are members of the Whig party. Your last birthday, which was only three months ago, you held a house party that lasted a weekend, where you used your influence to convince some of the most notable members of the House of Lords to support a few pieces of legislation you had taken an interest in. There was even some speculation that you were the lover of Lord Melbourne, but those rumors were quickly laid to rest. You are an exemplary hostess, and the Marquess of Locksley desires your hand in marriage. There are bets laid down at White’s as to how successful he will be. Some believe he is crazy to want a woman as fiercely independent as you are, despite your beauty.”
“Those reprobates!”
“Hmm, tell me of the marquess.”