Page 86 of Heiress Gone Wild

Something in her face must have given her away, for the baroness gave an exclamation of triumph. “Ah, I am right, then! But what is the trouble? Is it that he does not love you? If so, then—”

“That’s not it!” she burst out. “He says he is in love with me. He wants to marry me.”

“Then what is the problem? No one can say he is not suitable. He is rich, he is handsome—it would be an excellent match.”

“Even if I am not in love with him?”

“Is that it,kiska? You do not love him?”

“I don’t know!” Marjorie cried, heartsick as she made the wretched confession. “How can that be? How can it be true love, real love, if I am so uncertain?”

“And you think sitting here, hiding in your room, brooding and crying about it, will enable you to answer that question?”

“You said you wanted to help. This is not helping!”

“But what is it you want me to say? You are not a child any longer, sheltered away at school. You are a woman, living in the world. You know, or ought to know by now, that life is not always how we think it should be. Love is not some clear-cut path that leads straight to blissful happiness forever. Does not Shakespeare say the course is not so smooth as that? Love is troublesome and terrifying, and yet, so wonderful that life would be a wasteland without it. Life is full of pain and loss, danger and heartbreak, as well as happiness and joy. You will experience every one of these things in the years ahead, my young friend. That is,” she added, smiling, “if you are lucky.”

“Loss and fear and pain are lucky?” Marjorie stared at the other woman in disbelief. “Heartbreak is lucky?”

“Yes! For without the bitter, how could we have the sweet? Without risk, how could life ever be anything but a bore?”

“But marriage is forever. What if I make the wrong choice?” she cried. “What if I marry him and he leaves me? What then?”

“If you want certainty, I can tell you that there is one clear choice before you.” The baroness stood up, lifted the necklace from the box, and moved to stand behind Marjorie’s chair. “You can live behind safe walls and wait to be sure and take no risks and feel no pain. Or...”

She paused, slipping the necklace around Marjorie’s throat. “Or you can live, my dear. You can experience each moment of your life as it comes. The pain and the joy, the bitter and the sweet.”

She paused again to meet Marjorie’s eyes in the mirror. “If you want the former, then why did you ever leave your school? And if the latter, then what are you doing up here?”

Marjorie stared at her reflection as the baroness fastened the clasp at the back of her neck, and suddenly the shadow of uncertainty and fear that had been haunting her dissipated and floated away, and she felt the girl aboard theNeptunecoming back, the one who did not want to live behind walls, who wanted romance and love and a life worth living.

The baroness was right. She didn’t know what her destiny would be, but whatever it was, she was not going to find it by sitting here and playing safe.

When the baroness straightened and stepped back, Marjorie rose from her chair and took a deep breath. “Let’s go down. I’ve got some dancing to do.”

Insisting on his waltz being the final one of the night, on being the last man to hold Marjorie and speak with her and dance with her, had seemed a brilliant strategy to Jonathan yesterday. By coming last, he would be the final memory of her first ball, and hopefully, he would be the man she dreamed about tonight when the ball was over. Coming last also enabled him to slip out to the cardroom or the terrace once the ball was underway, sparing himself the torment of watching her dance with a dozen other men before his turn came.

That had been his plan anyway. But then, she came downstairs.

On Torquil’s arm, in a frothy, deep pink confection of a gown, she seemed to float down from above like some goddess at sunrise descending to earth. Her hair, shining like incandescent fire beneath the chandeliers, was piled in a mass of curls behind her head that looked ready to tumble down at any moment. Her father’s jewels sparkled at her throat, but he knew it was her smile, wide and full of joy, that made everyone gasp. She was as radiant and beautiful as the sun, and it hurt his eyes to look at her. But he could not look away.

When she reached the landing, she saw him, standing in the crowd below, and her dazzling smile vanished. For a moment, his heart stopped, cold with fear. But then she smiled at him—the mysterious, tipped-up curve of lips he’d first seen that afternoon aboard theNeptune, the smile of Eve, the smile with which countless women through the ages had beguiled countless men. In her dark eyes, he saw a sensual gleam that could touch all the erotic places inside a man and drive him mad. In the proud lift of her chin and the confident poise of her head, he saw the kind of beauty that did not fade with time.

Ever since he’d first seen that smile, he’d been trying to run from it, because he’d sensed even then that a moment like this would come and that it would bring him to his knees.

He didn’t slip out for cards. He didn’t go to the terrace for fresh air. He didn’t dance with anyone else. Instead, he moved to an obscure corner of the room and waited for his turn.

Sometimes, a footman would happen by, enabling him to snatch a flute of champagne, or an acquaintance would approach him for a few minutes of conversation, but otherwise, he remained apart, in the shadows of potted ferns and palms, and as he waited, he watched her and thought of the plans for the future he’d made today.

His call on Lord Kayne this morning had been beyond anything he could have hoped for. The marquess had been eager not just for his capital, but also for his ideas, and the two men had spent much of the day hammering those ideas into a workable partnership. Then he’d gone into Southampton on a very specific shopping expedition, and to his astonishment and relief, he found what he’d been hoping for within only a few hours. By the time he’d arrived back at Ravenwood to dress for the ball, he’d known he had the right plan for his future.

What he didn’t know was if it would be enough to convince Marjorie. For one thing, she had an unnerving ability to toss his plans and intentions into a cocked hat. And for another, it would involve some compromises she might find hard to make. But it was all he had, everything he wanted, and he could only hope she could let her fears go and trust him and help him make it work. If not, he feared he’d be wandering in the desert of the heart for a long time to come.

At last, about half past one, his moment came, and he stepped out of his darkened corner to claim it. He bowed, offered her his arm, and led her to the floor, and when the lilting strains of Strauss began, he held her in his arms and danced with her.

They didn’t talk much, for waltzing wasn’t the sort of activity that allowed for prolonged conversation. He asked if she was enjoying her first ball, though the sparkle in her eyes and the radiance of her smile told him she was even before she confirmed it. After several turns across the ballroom floor, she commented that he hadn’t danced much, a very encouraging remark to his way of thinking, for it meant that despite having champions to the left and right, she’d paid some attention to his whereabouts this evening.

“No,” he agreed. “I haven’t danced at all, until now.”

---