The Sherbrooke Bride - Catherine Coulter [102]
She looked up at him and saw that he knew exactly what had happened. “No, I imagine he was surprised. But pleased at the same time.”
“Yes. Come along now, you’re a mess, a greater one than I am. I won’t bathe with you or we’ll remain messes.”
They rose and turned to see Tony kissing his wife very passionately.
Douglas said mildly, “Yes, Tony proved something, didn’t he? Something he hadn’t counted on. Now he is greatly pleased with himself.”
Tony made love to his wife there next to a Greek statue and it was as violent and urgent a performance as his cousin would have given. Melissande actually didn’t give a single thought to her lovely gown or to grass stains or to possible interlopers coming along. She lost her reason, all of it, and it was quite delicious. When she told him she loved him and she would kill any woman who tried to take him away from her, he grinned like a blissful fool and said with a good deal of satisfaction in his voice, “I believe that I love you as well. Your fierceness pleases me, as does your jealousy. Yes, you please me, very much.”
As for Douglas: He sat brooding in his copper bathtub, his valet standing over him, wringing his hands, bemoaning the ruined boots and trousers.
CHAPTER
18
TYSEN SHERBROOKE STOOD tall and proud as a rooster, his eyes reverent as he said to Alexandra, “I would like to present Melinda Beatrice Hardesty. My sister-in-law, Lady Alexandra.”
So this was the flat-chested simpering pious young woman Sinjun detested. Alex smiled at her. “I am charmed, Miss Hardesty. Tysen has told us all so much about you. I hope you will enjoy yourself this evening.”
Melinda Beatrice, who knew her own worth, was nevertheless a bit shy with a countess, even though she appeared to be not a month older than Alex was. She gave her a graceful curtsy and said in her prim voice, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“I trust you and Tysen will enjoy the dancing.”
“Mr. Sherbrooke has asked my mama if I may dance with him. She has refused, naturally, for I’m not out yet.”
“A pity,” Alex said. “Perhaps you can play cards instead.”
“Oh no, ma’am. Why, that wouldn’t be at all proper and my mama would be most upset. Mama says that only wastrels play cards.”
“Well,” Alexandra said, shooting the love-slain Tysen a harassed look, “perhaps you and Mr. Sherbrooke can take a turn in the gardens. It’s warm tonight so your dear mama surely can’t object and there are so many adults just feet away to protect your reputation.”
“Yes, I should like that,” said Miss Hardesty. “If Mama won’t object.”
“What a twit,” Douglas remarked as he watched his brother lead Miss Hardesty away. “I do hope Tysen will outgrow her. He goes back to Oxford soon, thank God.” He looked back to his wife, whose bodice had been raised only a half-inch and frowned. He’d overheard Sinjun laughing about it. He’d said nothing, however, for when Alexandra had come earlier into the drawing room, looking toward him like a hopeful puppy, he was too busy thinking how lovely she looked to say anything. The green made her skin as creamy and white as her belly, and her hair, thick and redder than sin, was piled artfully atop her head, with several glossy tendrils trailing over her shoulder. He looked down at the expanse of rich white flesh and felt himself begin to shake. “Let’s dance, otherwise I might be tempted to thrust my hand down your bosom.”
“All right.”
“All right what?”
She gave him a siren’s smile. “Whichever you choose, Douglas.”
He struggled with himself. As for Alexandra, she tried to keep down the bubble of laughter. As he continued to struggle, she stared with no little pride and relief over the ballroom that was gaily festooned with hanging blue, white, and gold crepe. Potted plants and thick bouquets were in every corner and on every tabletop, their scent fragrant in the warm evening air. There were at least fifteen couples dancing and another thirty standing or seated about the perimeter of the dance floor. Every invitation had been accepted except for Sir James Evertson,