The Devil Who Tamed Her

  She was fine when she was with him, or she seemed to be. Was that merely because she felt relaxed with him after everything they had shared? Did she feel they were friends of a sort now? But he’d yet to see how she behaved with others. And that cowed, embarrassed look she’d worn as she reentered the ballroom worried him.

  “It’s difficult to touch you without tasting you.” Good God, did he say that aloud? He must have. She was blushing now.

  He quickly added, “No, don’t blush. You’re too damn beautiful when you do that.” Her blush darkened. “Much better,” he said with a grin. “Splotches really do become you. I’ve thought that more’n once.”

  She laughed. “You’re a terrible tease.”

  “No, I’m a good tease. Unparalleled, if you must know. Quite the best tease in London.”

  “Oh, stop!”

  “Feeling better?”

  She glanced at him curiously. “I wasn’t aware I was feeling bad.”

  He shrugged. “You seemed not quite yourself when you just came in.”

  “Oh, that. I spoke to Sabrina. It was a little disturbing is all.”

  “It went badly?”

  “Well, no, if you must know, I apologized to her.”

  “Not for my benefit I hope.”

  “No, actually, I feel quite good about it, almost as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I’d probably feel even better if she’d forgiven me.”

  He frowned, hearing that. “She didn’t? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “No, you misunderstand. She might have, I just didn’t stay to find out if she would or not. I’m afraid I got a little—embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed, eh?” he said with a knowing look. “It’s all right to admit you cried, you know.”

  “Don’t assume—”

  “Don’t start lying again,” he interrupted in a light, if scolding, tone.

  “Oh, shut up. If I want to call crying by another name I will—or do you want to see me blush again?”

  He choked out a laugh. “By all means, call it anything you want.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  S HE WAS IN HIS ARMS again, but it just wasn’t the same with dozens of eyes trained on them. And it was difficult for Ophelia, juggling her emotions, and her behavior, when she had Rafe’s full attention. She had to temper her smiles—too many people were watching. She had to keep her own eyes away from his, or at least she tried to, because it was too easy to get lost in his blue eyes and forget where they were.

  He was too handsome by far in his formal togs. Every woman in the room was probably wishing she were in her shoes, but for once, not for the usual reason! Rafe in black tails and snowy white cravat was devastating.

  And he got rakish! God, she couldn’t believe he’d mentioned tasting her. Her knees had almost buckled! After all their time together, for him to turn on the sensual charm now with such blatant sexual innuendos, when they could no longer do anything about it. She would like to think that he simply couldn’t help himself, but it was more likely that he merely felt safe doing so now, when she couldn’t respond as she would like, and neither could he.

  The dance ended sooner than Ophelia would have liked, which was just as well. She couldn’t be that close to Rafe and not want to touch him more intimately than just clasping his hand for the dance.

  “I knew you would be here,” she said shyly as he led her off the dance floor.

  “Caught my man spying, did you?”

  “Your man?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Never mind. How did you know?”

  “I just had a rather strong feeling. Probably because you’ve intimated that you intend to help me through the choosing of a husband.”

  She was actually hoping he’d correct that assumption, but all he said was “Ah, and are we going to give this careful consideration now? Not going to rush through it just to get out from under your father’s thumb? How did that reunion go, by the by, other than to make you angry?”

  “It went exactly as I expected. But considering our past yelling matches, I must say I wasn’t nearly as angry as I usually get with him, so in that regard, it went rather well.”

  And then Rafe had completely defused that anger in the dining room, but she didn’t mention that. Recalling that kiss brought a little more color to her cheeks though.

  She continued, “But I don’t think I’m going to be able to take my time looking for a husband. He’s determined to have it settled and done with, and he still pulls the strings.”

  “I’ve a mind to have a talk with him.”

  “Don’t do that! That will only encourage him, if he thinks you have a concern for me.”

  “Bloody hell, what’s his rush then?”

  “Can’t you guess? He’s waited my entire life to marry me off so he can reap the social benefits. He thought the matter was settled with Duncan and was so happy with that match. Having that fall through, he’s decidedly unhappy. Actually, he’s quite furious to be back at square one again. So don’t be surprised that he’s now setting his cap for you.”

  “Sorry, but he’s not my type.”

  He said it with such a straight face, she burst out laughing. But she still felt compelled to warn him, “You can make light of it, but he’s quite serious. He’s single-mindedly set on you for a son-in-law now.”

  Rafe winced. “I’m afraid I might have encouraged that notion in my original missive to him. Insinuation is a powerful tool open to all sorts of interpretation.”

  He’d woven their way through the crowd on the edges of the dance floor until he found her mother, with whom he no doubt intended to leave her. Unfortunately, Mary was still chatting with Sabrina and her aunt Hilary. Duncan was there as well, standing behind Sabrina with his hands on her shoulders.

  Who would ever have thought that those two would have taken to each other? They were so mismatched, the handsome, brawny Scot and the sweet country wren, who was by no means a beauty. But then Sabrina’s gift for finding humor in any situation and sharing it with others was probably what had won Duncan over. They had become friends first, then love had blossomed from that, and Ophelia wished she had seen it sooner instead of letting her colossal conceit convince her Duncan was just trying to make her jealous.

  She supposed she owed him an apology as well, for all of her false assumptions and putting him through an emotional hell when he’d thought he’d be stuck with her as his wife. But oddly, that whole unhappy time for both of them might have played out quite differently if her eyes had been opened sooner, before she’d met him.

  They might actually have fallen in love themselves—what an amazing thought! And yet it could have happened, if she hadn’t been so self-centered and dead set on getting out of her engagement to him, and if he hadn’t been put off by her insults and haughty airs. So to apologize to him for turning him against her was in essence saying she was sorry he’d found true love with Sabrina instead of her. No, she didn’t think that would go over too well.

  Sabrina smiled at her this time. Pleased and relieved, Ophelia returned it. But then she caught Duncan’s wary gaze and tried to put him at ease.

  “Hello, Duncan,” she said almost shyly. “I’m surprised to see you and Sabrina in town, so close to your wedding.”

  “ ’Tis nae more’n a shopping trip for a few things m’ladies couldna find at home.”

  Hilary Lambert beamed at being included in his “m’ ladies” remark, though she went right on conversing with Mary. Those two old friends never failed to reminisce about their younger days when they got together.

  “Congratulations on the impending nuptials,” Ophelia added to Duncan. “I’m very happy for you both.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Duncan said a bit incredulously. “You mean that, dinna you.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but she replied, “You and I might have done fine if we hadn’t been ‘forced’ to meet each other, but I have no doubt that Sabrina is the better choice for you. She will make you a muc
h better wife than I ever could.”

  Duncan turned his incredulous look on Rafe. “I give up, mon. I dinna need tae hear more’n that tae ken that she’s turned aboot and verra nicely. That’s one bet I’m rather pleased tae be losing tae you.”

  Ophelia frowned, but what her ex-fiancé, twice removed, was implying didn’t sink in immediately. Until she saw Rafe cringe.

  “That was a compliment on your success, Phelia,” he tried to tell her.

  But as if he hadn’t spoken, she said, “A bet? It was all about a bet? You put me through hell for a bloody bet?”

  “It wasn’t like that a’tall.”

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “No,” Rafe assured her. “I knew you could change, anyone can. The bet was merely my reaction to Duncan’s skepticism.”

  She glanced at Duncan to see him cringing now. Sabrina looked embarrassed. For her fiancé? Or because Ophelia was causing a scene with her raised voice? People were turning their way. Mary and Hilary had stopped talking and nearly asked in unison what was wrong.

  Ophelia didn’t reply. All she could think of was Rafe and Duncan laughing together about her when they’d made their bet, having fun at her expense! Everything she’d thought, everything Rafe had told her, all of it lies?

  The look she turned on Rafe was half-stricken, half-murderous. “For my happiness, you said? When all along it was simply because you had money riding on the outcome—on me! My God, you’re such a liar!”

  “Phelia, I promise you it—”

  Ophelia didn’t hear any more of his explanation. She was already running out of the room, her mother following her.

  “What happened?” Mary asked, slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with her daughter.

  They hadn’t even retrieved their cloaks, and Ophelia wasn’t waiting for their coach to be brought forward either. She had simply rushed out the door to find it herself. With their coach parked on the curb not far down the street, they were on their way home within moments of getting into it.

  “What happened?” her mother asked again.

  Ophelia didn’t answer. She wouldn’t have been able to get any words past the lump in her throat anyway. But the tears streaming down her cheeks were answer enough for Mary. She was soon absorbing her daughter’s heartrending sobs on her shoulder.

  Raphael stood in the doorway watching Ophelia’s coach disappear down the street. He’d only been a few moments behind her, having paused only long enough to snarl at Duncan, “Thanks much, old chap.”

  “She didna know aboot the bet?” Duncan said.

  “Hell, no, she didn’t know. Do you see idiot branded on my forehead? No? Well, give it a moment, it will no doubt appear now.”

  “What should she care if we made a bet? She changed. She’s nae longer a shrew oout o’ hell.”

  “She changed for the right reasons. And now she’ll think she changed for the wrong ones. Which could bloody well undo all of my efforts.”

  “Then go after her mon and explain. Dinna be leaving me wi’ this shoe in m’mouth.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  R APHAEL ARRIVED AT THE REID town house at the earliest hour that could be considered decent for visiting. He wasn’t admitted. The ladies, mother and daughter, weren’t receiving today and the earl wasn’t at home. He returned in the afternoon and was given the same message. He waited around outside on that second visit to witness others being turned away as well, which was somewhat of a relief. At least it wasn’t just him.

  His man, Simon, had no luck either in finding out the ladies’ agenda for the day and evening. He was in fact given the boot when one of the scullery maids pointed out to the butler that he did not belong to the household. But he already had his orders for that contingency. He waited in his rented coach down the street so he could follow the ladies when they did leave. They never left.

  Raphael discovered that anxiety was a distinctly unpleasant feeling. He should have followed Ophelia home last night and, no matter the hour, insisted upon seeing her. Then he wouldn’t have gone to bed with his gut churning, a feeling that hadn’t left him yet. The thought of her being hurt by what she’d learned was the worst. He’d much prefer her anger. He was an old hand at dealing with that.

  It was almost a relief when his father’s missive arrived requesting his presence at Norford Hall. He wasn’t surprised to receive it. If anything, he was surprised it hadn’t come sooner. He hadn’t visited for long with his family after his return to England. His father had probably patiently been waiting for him to return to Norford Hall and that patience had finally run out. But even though he didn’t think there was anything out of the ordinary in that summons, it wasn’t something he could ignore merely because the timing wasn’t ideal.

  He spent the night writing a long letter to Ophelia, then tore it up. An explanation on paper simply didn’t suffice and might even make matters worse depending on her current state of mind. Her emotions could be so volatile that he needed to be present to gauge her response to his explanation. And what could he really say to her other than that a bet might have set his plan in motion, but it had had nothing to do with it in the end.

  He left the next morning for Norford Hall. After spending most of the night awake working on that letter to Ophelia, he was too tired even to ask why Amanda chose to join him for the short day trip. He spent most of the morning catching up on lost sleep.

  But when he did finally wake close to noon and noticed his sister sitting across from him, trying to read a book between the bounce and jostles of the coach, he said, “Come along to protect me, did you?”

  Amanda peeked over the edge of her book. “It occurred to me you might need some protection.”

  He’d been joking. It didn’t sound as if she was. “Why? I’ve done nothing to be called on the carpet for. Father is probably just annoyed that I’m spending the entire Season away from home.”

  “Or he heard about you hiding away in the country with Ophelia. I might point out, you still haven’t told me what that was all about.”

  Raphael narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t tell him about that, did you?”

  Amanda took on a hurt look. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

  “I recall when you were ten and went running to father about the new fort I made.”

  “You butchered the maze with that fort, cutting a new exit halfway in at the most confusing intersection, and I’d only just figured out that maze. I was so proud of that, but you had to go and make it too easy…besides, I was a child then.”

  “You’re still a child.”

  “How dare you…”

  They bickered mildly for the rest of the trip, which wasn’t all that long, and certainly wasn’t unusual with Raphael’s propensity to tease. But a subdued, anticipatory silence struck them both as they approached Norford Hall. The ducal mansion was spread out so widely that they could both see a good portion of it from either side of the coach. Home. Family, servants they’d grown up with who were like family. A wealth of memories were associated with the old mansion, and it never failed to fill Raphael with a warm sense of peace and well-being.

  Ophelia didn’t leave her room for two days. She was afraid she’d burst into tears if someone even looked at her askance, then she was afraid she’d shoot someone. She wavered back and forth between experiencing the oddest pain in her chest, which released a flood of tears, and such anger she was sure she could kill someone—well, not just anyone—him.

  She was furious at herself as well for being so gullible. She’d thought Rafe had really wanted to help her, when all he’d wanted was to win a bet. And bed her. He’d pretended he didn’t want to make love to her, but that too had probably been on his agenda from the start. He was just so practiced at seduction she hadn’t even known she’d been seduced! And she couldn’t get out of her mind the image of the two friends laughing at her expense!

  Sadie couldn’t get her to talk about it. For once, her old silence tactics didn’t work
on Ophelia. Another flaw gone for good? Her mother couldn’t get her to talk about it either. She wasn’t going to let anyone know just how big a fool she’d been. But Mary was tenacious. She wasn’t going to give up until Ophelia was back to herself, so the next time she knocked on her door, Ophelia made an effort to put her mother’s mind at ease.

  “Feeling better yet?” Mary stuck her head around the door to ask.

  “It’s all right, Mama, you don’t have to tiptoe around me. I’m fine now.”

  She wasn’t, but she didn’t like her mother worrying about her. And that look of concern was still on Mary’s face as she came farther into the room.

  “Would you like to talk about it now?”

  “I’d rather not. I just assumed some things that turned out to not be true.”

  “But you’re over it?”

  “Yes, of course. I made more of it than I should have, is all. It wasn’t really important.”

  Ophelia broke out a smile, felt it crack, and turned aside quickly so Mary wouldn’t notice. “I’m surprised Father hasn’t pounded on my door,” Ophelia continued. “My having missed two days of husband hunting has probably had him gnashing his teeth.”

  “Actually, I’ve rarely seen him in such a good mood.” Mary frowned thoughtfully. “He didn’t even blister my ears about you and me going out the other night without letting him know about it. But the last time I saw him with so many smiles, he’d doubled his money on one of his investments. That’s probably all it is this time.”

  “He doesn’t just tell you when something like that occurs?”

  “Goodness, no. He thinks matters of money would be quite beyond my comprehension.”

  Ophelia laughed. It was the first time she’d felt like laughing since the night of the Wilcotts ball. “You could probably teach him a thing or two—”

  “Shh.” Mary grinned at her. “I’d prefer he not know that. I’ll let him keep his illusions, or delusions, as the case may be.”