Tender Rebel
Page 6

 Johanna Lindsey

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She closed her eyes. It was the only way she could think. "Ros—Roslynn."
She heard his tongue click. "No wonder you want to marry, Ros Roslynn. You simply want to change your name."
Her eyes snapped open to be dazzled by his smile.
He was only teasing. It was nice that he felt free to. The other men she had met recently were too busy trying to make a good impression on her to be at ease in her presence.
She returned his smile. "Roslynn Chadwick, to be precise."
"A name you should keep, sweetheart… at least until after we become much better acquainted. And we will, you know. Shall I tell you how?"
She laughed, the husky sound jolting him to his socks. "Ah, you're trying to shock me again, but it won't do. I'm too old to blush, and I've been warned about men like you."
"Like me?"
"A rake."
"Guilty." He gave a mock sigh.
"A master of seduction."
"I should hope so."
She chuckled, and again this was no silly giggle or simper to irritate the senses, but a warm, rich sound that made him want… he dared not. This was one woman he didn't want to risk scaring off. She might not be innocent in years, but he didn't know yet whether she was experienced otherwise.
That fateful upstairs light that had started Roslynn on the path to confusion was suddenly put out. Panic was instantaneous. It didn't matter that she had enjoyed his company. It didn't matter that she had felt perfectly at ease with him. They were now enshrouded in darkness, and he was a rake, and she couldn't afford to be seduced.
"I must go."
"Not yet."
"No, I really must."
She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip tight-ened. His other hand found her cheek, fingertips softly caressing, and something unfurled in her belly. She had to make him understand.
"I—I mun thank you, Mr. Malory." She slipped into the brogue without realizing it, half her mind on his touch, half on her increasing panic. "You've taken my mind off my worries for a spell, but dinna add to them now. It's a husband I'm needing, no' a lover, and you dinna qualify… more's the pity."
She got her release, simply because she had managed to surprise him once again.
Anthony watched her passing in and out of the different shades of light before she disappeared inside, and again he had that ridiculous urge to go after her. He didn't. A slow smile started and widened.
"More's the pity," she had said with such poignant regret. The little miss didn't know it, but she had sealed her own fate with those words.
Chapter Six
"You've been watching a master at work, Connie."
"Seemed more like a comedy of errors to me," the tall redhead replied. "Opportunity lost is opportunity lost, no matter how you look at it."
Anthony laughed as the two joined him under the tree. "Spying on me, brother?"
James leaned forward to casually rest his forearms on the back of the bench and flashed Anthony a grin.
"Truth to tell, I couldn't resist. Was afraid it was going to get embarrassing, though."
"Not bloody likely. I just met her."
"And lost her." Conrad Sharp turned the screw. Anthony shot the first mate a quelling look as he came around and propped a foot on the opposite end of the bench, but it wasn't effective in the dark.
"Now, Connie, you can't fault him there," James said. "She did throw him quite a turn, appealing to the goodness of his heart and in such a quaint Scottish brogue. And here I thought the lad's halo was perpetually tarnished."
"A lass like that could polish any halo," Conrad replied.
"Yes, she was rather stunning, wasn't she?" Anthony had heard enough. "And unavailable." James chuckled. "Staked a claim, have you, lad? Careful, or I might take that as a challenge."
Anthony's blood ran cold. It had been sport in their younger days to compete for the same woman, those days when they had prowled London together. And every outcome had been a simple matter of which brother had managed to get to the lady first. But the years and overindulgence had tempered Anthony's libido. It was no longer do or die. Or at least it hadn't been, until tonight.
But James, well, he simply didn't know James anymore. Most of their lives they had been close, exceedingly close. It had always been them against the other two brothers, who were a good ten years older. But that was before James had thought it would be a lark to try his hand at pirating on the high seas.
For ten years he had seen James only on rare occasions, the last time ending in a rift that caused all three brothers to disown him—after they had soundly thrashed him for taking Reggie pirating that summer. But now James was reinstated. He had given up pirating. Now he was even likely to return to England for good. Andrightnow, Anthony didn't know if he was serious or not about challenging him over Ros-lynn
Chadwick.
At that moment he saw her again, through the window, and noticed that James did too. "Blister it, James, what are you doing here anyway?"
The older brother by one year straightened to his full height, which was a tad shorter than Anthony's. To look at them was not to know they were brothers. James was blond and green-eyed, the marks of a Malory, and stockier in build. It was only Anthony, Regina, Edward's daughter Amy, and now Jeremy who bore the black hair and cobalt-blue eyes of their grandmother, rumored to have had gypsy blood flowing in her veins.
"If you had been a little more informative in that note you left for me, I wouldn't have had to ruin my evening by coming here," James replied. "And now that you've reminded me of it, I've a bone to pick with you, brother. What the devil can you be thinking of, to let that scamp of mine escort Regan anywhere?''
Anthony gritted his teeth over the name Regan. "Is that why you showed up?"
"That was all you saw fit to inform me about. You couldn't scribble a few more words to let me know you would be here as well, could you?"
Anthony spared a glance around the garden. "If you can call my hiding in the shadows being here, well, then, I guess I am."
"Don't be obnoxious, puppy," Conrad joined in. "Until you've had one of your own, you don't know what it's like worrying about what they're up to."
"What could the poor boy possibly get up to with two such diligent fathers hounding him? And besides, much as I would have liked to ignore it, Jeremy was the one who pointed out that he might not be up to scratch in protecting her. That's why I've been dragged along."
"You misunderstand, Tony. It wasn't who was going to protect Regan from the masses that had me worried. It was who was going to protect her from her escort."
Five seconds passed while Anthony wondered how much animosity he would elicit by laughing at this point. "She's his cousin, for God's sake!"
"You think he gives a bloody damn?"
"You're serious, aren't you?" Anthony ventured.
"He's infatuated with her," was all James returned.
"Be that as it may, you are overlooking the 'infatuatee.' She'd have him begging for mercy in less than a minute if he even looked at her wrong. I thought you knew our niece better than that, old boy."
"Aye, I know she can hold her own. But I know my son too, and he isn't easily discouraged."
"Need I remind you this is a seventeen-year-old boy we're talking about?"
"Need I remind you whatyouwere like when you were seventeen?" James countered.
Anthony grinned finally. "Point taken. Very well, I'll not only keep an eye on her, I'll keep one on him too."
"That'sif hecan keep his eyes off the Scot," Conrad interjected.
"Then by all means stay," Anthony replied tightly. "There is no reason we can't all three keep this vigil.
After all, it's such a pleasant way to spend an evening."
James smiled. "I do believe that's his way of telling us to run along, Connie. Come on, let's leave the poor boy to his pining. You never know. She might even venture forth again and make this chaperoning business more to his liking." Here he chuckled. "It won't be otherwise. He wouldn't brave that den of vultures any more than I would, even for her."
James was wrong on both counts.
Chapter Seven
"Well, what's he doing here? That's what I want to know. Lady Crandal doesn't approve of his sort.
She'd never have invited him."
"Sir Anthony doesn't need an invite, m'dear. That one does as he pleases."
"But he's always had the decency to stay away from our parties."
"Decency?" A brief laugh. "There's no decency about it. He simply can't abide these affairs. And it's no wonder. There probably isn't a lady here who wouldn't like to reform that particular rake."
"There's nothing funny about it, Lenore. He shows up, and half the women in the room fall in love with him. I've seen it happen before. That's why a hostess wouldn't dream of inviting him to her party if she wants it to go smoothly. He causes too much of a stir."
"But it does give us something to talk about for months thereafter. Admit it. He does make a delicious subject, doesn't he?"
"That's easy for you to say, Lenore." This from another lady, clearly distressed. "You don't have a daughter out this season. My God, look at my Jane over there. She can't take her eyes off him. I just know she'll never accept Percy now. She can besodifficult."
"There's no harm in looking, Alice. You need only tell your girl a few stories about him and she'll be properly horrified and glad he didn't notice her."
"But what's hedoinghere? I still want to know." The question was repeated more sharply.
"Probably keeping an eye on his son," Lenore offered the ladies smugly.
"Hiswhat?"
"Take a look at the boy dancing with Sarah Lordes. Now, if he isn't the mirror image of Sir Anthony, then they ought to do away with mirrors."
"Good Lord, another Malory bastard! That family really ought to be more circumspect."
"Well, the marquis acknowledged his. I wonder if Sir Anthony will do the same."
"This is priceless! However could they have kept him a secret this long?"
"Must have been hidden away until now. But it appears the Malorys are going to be full of surprises this season. I understand the third brother is back."
"Third brother?" This from a new party. "But there are only three."
"Where have you been, Lidia?" Lenore said cattily. "There are four, and the third is the black sheep."
"But I thought Sir Anthony was that."
"Being the youngest, he's only a close second. Oh, I could tell you stories about the other one. He's been gone for years and years, but no one knows where or why.''
"Then it's no wonder I didn't know he existed," Lidia replied stiffly in self-defense.
"Hello again."
Roslynn was annoyed by the untimely interruption, but at least it wasn't one of her young admirers.
Fortunately, most of them had retired to the card room for a while, leaving her free to become better acquainted with the gentlemen on her new list. But instead of seeking one out, she had gotten sidetracked by the numerous conversations that erupted when Anthony Malory had stepped into the ballroom.
Roslynn had unobtrusively settled herself behind one group of older ladies and made no bones about eavesdropping. There was no use denying it. She found the subject under discussion infinitely fascinating and listened avidly to every word. But now someone wanted to engage her in conversation, and there was no help for it.
She glanced at Lady Eden, yet still tried to keep one ear tuned in on the older ladies in front of her.
"Tired of dancing so soon?"
The younger woman was amused, recognizing in-attentiveness when she encountered it. She was further amused when she overheard several remarks nearby and realized the reason for Roslynn's distraction.
"Everyone knows I rarely dance except with my husband, but he wasn't able to join me tonight."
"That's nice."
Regina Eden rolled her eyes, smiled, and hooked her arm through Roslynn's. "Come along, m'dear. It's devilish hot in this spot. Let's move along, shall we?"
Roslynn sighed as she was forcefully dragged away. Lady Eden was certainly pushy for such a young woman. Roslynn had been surprised, in fact, to learn that she was married and had a child already, when she didn't look as though she was very long out of the schoolroom. She was the lady with Frances earlier whom Roslynn hadn't stayed long enough to meet, but Frances had taken care of the introductions upon her return from the garden. At the time she had still been pretty shaken from her encounter with Malory.
In fact, she couldn't remember the conversation she had had with Lady Eden then, if she had even had one.
Lady Eden stopped near the refreshment tables. Unfortunately, Roslynn now had a clear view of the subject on everyone's lips. He hadn't really come inside the ballroom. With an air of nonchalance, he stood in the doorway to the garden, one shoulder braced against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, eyes slowly scanning the room—until they lit on her. There they stayed, and he flashed that smile that made her feel like warming honey.
Seeing him in the light, seeingallof him in the light, was an experience of the senses. He had a body you couldn't help but admire for its pure symmetry. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, lean hips, and long legs.