With his hand hot and firm at her lower back, Fallon’s breath caught at his intimate touch. She  tried to ignore the erotic sensation his touched evoked, but it was difficult when his fingers seemed to caress her flesh tauntingly, as Braeden guided her the short distance to where his grandmother was regally seated on a chaise sofa.

‘Grandmère, may I present Lady Fallon Brightmore.’

‘Hampton, it is about time you stopped monopolizing Lady Fallon’s attention,’ the dowager countess scolded.

‘”Monopolizing?” Lady Fallon has only just arrived,’ Braeden countered.

‘She arrived more than ten minutes ago,’ the dowager reminded her grandson.

‘Good evening Countess,’ Fallon intervened.  ‘I was thirsty and asked Lord Hampton for a drink.’

The Dowager cast a cynical look at Fallon.  ‘Why would you come to Hampton’s defence, I wonder,’ she smirked.

Fallon could feel the heat wash over her face.  Why did she lie for the cold, haughty profligate?  She should have exposed the swine to his grandmother.

‘There you see, grandmère,’ Braeden grinned widely.  ‘I was just being the perfect host.’

‘Go and get me a refill,’ the dowager handed her glass to her grandson.

‘Yes grandmère.’

 The dowager patted the seat next to her, looking at Fallon invitingly.  Fallon observed her glass was not even empty, when she dismissed Braeden.

‘I was tired of his morose company, so I arranged this ball,’ the dowager looked around the room, happily taking note of the goings on of her invited guests.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I have had to suffer Hampton’s company each night at supper.  He has been like a bear with a sore head, grumpy and irksome,’ she imparted.

Fallon was flabbergasted.  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

The dowager laughed.  ‘Hampton can be credited in the art of intelligent conversation and entertainment.  However, recently that seemed to have eluded him, but he is smiling and happy as a lark this evening,’ the dowager’s eyes raked over Fallon.

Fallon shifted her eyes away.  ‘Perhaps he has won some money at cards or the horses today.’

‘I do believe someone has brightened his evening,’ the dowager prodded.

‘There is a lovely mix of the ton here,’ Fallon tried to change the conversation.

‘It would be, if he was not here,’ the dowager jerked her head in the direction of Chilton Wentworth, the Duke of Baxendale.

Fallon was surprised.  She did not believe the dowager, stern as she was would invite anybody, even a duke if she really did not want him in her home.

‘Yet you invited him,’ Fallon dared to challenge the fearsome dowager.

‘It was Hampton.  Clearly his brain is a bit muddy these days.’

Back to him again!

‘Well,’ Fallon stood up, placing her empty glass on a side table next to the dowager.  ‘Let me greet some of your other guests.’

‘There will be dancing later,’ the dowager sneered.  ‘Make sure you save a dance,’ she added mysteriously.

‘For the duke?’  Fallon grinned naughtily.  ‘I certainly will,’ she laughed softly and walked away when the dowager, laced her with a disapproving look.

‘Pray tell what you and our hostess have so much to talk about?’ Lady Carissa tucked her arm in Fallon’s and led her to the drinks station.

I suspect she has the desire that I become her grand daughter-in-law…if only.

‘Oh nothing much,’ Fallon laughed.  ‘She spoke of the weather, how good the buffet is,’ Fallon sipped her punch, ‘and how delighted she was that the Duke of Baxendale had accepted her invitation at such short notice.’

‘Really?’ Carissa was amazed.  ‘I had the distinct feeling she could not stand His Grace.’

‘Do you honestly believe anybody would get an invitation, if the dowager did not want them on her estate?’  Fallon ventured, biting on a cherry from her fruit punch.

‘True,’ Carissa was thoughtful.  ‘She does not suffer fools,’ she whispered.

 ‘Especially any debutants, who harbour the thought of throwing their handkerchiefs in the direction of her grandson,’ Fallon added.

‘I guess you are safe,’ Carissa laughed, ‘since you do not hide your dislike of Hampton.’

Fallon almost choked on her glass of punch.

‘Oh dear, are you okay?’  Carissa gently tapped Fallon’s back.

Fallon nodded, as she coughed and sputtered, trying to right her breathing.

‘Speaking of the devil, he is approaching,’ Carissa whispered with a naughty smile.

‘I suppose he wants to dance with you,’ Fallon got out, with a strained voice and almost teary eyes.

‘May I have the next dance, Lady Fallon?’

Both ladies were surprised, thinking it was Lady Carissa he wanted to dance with.  Carissa’s eyes pleaded with Fallon to just agree to Braeden’s request.

‘No, I am promised to the duke,’ she lied.

Carissa‘s accusing eyes berated her friend.  She knew Fallon was lying.

As if on cue, and much to Fallon’s delight, the duke straddled towards her.  ‘Ah your grace, you are just in time.’  Fallon practically dragged him by the arm to the dance floor.

‘Lady Carissa,’ Braeden bowed humbly.  ‘If you will indulge a gentleman’s wounded ego,’ he extended an arm out to her.

Carissa laughed softly and set her glass down.  ‘Of course my lord,’ she placed her hand in his.

‘So tell me Lord Hampton,’ Carissa grinned, ‘why is it that you and the enchanting Lady Fallon are always at loggerheads?’ She asked conversationally, as they waltzed around the dance floor.

‘”Always?”’ Braeden smiled, faking a solicitous look.  ‘Lady Fallon complimented me earlier, on how well dressed she thought I looked.’

Carissa laughed loudly.  ‘My friend actually paid you a compliment?’

‘I know, hard to believe right?’  Braeden retorted, as he expertly led Carissa around the room.

‘As hard as it is to imagine, that it will never snow in London,’ she murmured unbelievingly.

‘Some things do boggle the mind,’ Braeden grinned.

‘Apparently so,’ her eyes teased.  She tried to bait him, but Braeden was not going to reveal anything to Carissa.  So they continued the rest of their dance in silence.

‘I had approached you in the hope of asking you to accompany me into the garden,’ the duke murmured as he twirled Fallon around.  ‘The full moon is out.  It is lovely outside.’

Fallon had a suspicion she was going to regret being overly receptive to the ogling, despicable Chilton Wentworth.  ‘Such a lovely idea,’ she lied.  ‘Why do we not venture outside, after this dance?’

Fallon observed her parents in conversation with the dowager.  She was curious about their conversation.  For some reason her mother was weary of the dowager and generally gave her a very wide berth.  Tonight her mother laughed enjoyably, and there was a look of contention across her face.

Fallon looked to the other side of the room.  Emma was dancing with Carissa’s marquis.  She easily distinguished Braeden’s broad shoulders.  Carissa was in his arms.  They seemed to be having an interesting discussion, judging from the animated look on Carissa’s face.  Why doesn’t he have conversations like that with me?

Arthur was at the drinks station.  It seemed he was in conversation with a young lady.  Fallon could tell Arthur was being polite and at the required respectable distance away from the young lady.  Now had that been Braeden, Fallon grinned to herself, he would be towering over the young lady, his shoulders deliberately brushing against hers, just like the rake that he was.

‘What amuses you so, my lady?’  Chilton questioned.

‘Nothing much,’ Fallon stopped smiling like a fool.  ‘I would have thought, your grace, you would be more proficient on the dance floor.’  He had stepped on her slippers more than once.

The duke laughed uncomfortably.  ‘I am skilled when it comes to cards, horses, hunting and how to pleasure a lady,’ his eyes mocked.

Fallon’s face became heated.  How dare he drop that suggestive comment in such an ungentlemanly manner?  It was absurd if the duke thought she would be charmed and fall at his feet.

‘But alas, the skill on the dance floor seems to have eluded you,’ Fallon hissed dangerously.

Chilton laughed more loudly, pulling Fallon closer.  ‘My lady Fallon, you are certainly a most companionable lady.  If only you will accept my offer,’ his eyes bore into hers.

Not that the duke had officially made Fallon an offer.  Nor was Fallon going to remind him of that slight omission, lest he presume that she was wanting him to do so.  She had no desire to wed this filthy boar with too much money and a title wasted on him.  She would be constantly sick if this vulture were to put his distasteful paws on her body.  Just the thought of it made her shiver.

‘Ah, I have been looking forward to escorting you outside, my lady.’  Chilton whisked her outside, before she had the opportunity to make an excuse to go to the bathroom.  Fallon cursed silently.

Fallon was wearisome of the duke, but reluctantly allowed him to court her favour when she saw Braeden watching them with hawk like eyes.  Fallon was incensed at Braeden’s condescending glare. She was seething with anger and when the duke guided her outside into the gardens, Fallon smiled at him acceptingly.

Baxendale leaned too closely to Fallon for propriety’s sake.  She should have asked her sister to accompany her outside as chaperone.  She knew Chilton was a cad of the worst order but she was so furious with Braeden, she cared not about any imminent danger.

‘You look beautiful, as always, my lady,’ Baxendale complimented.

‘Thank you,’ Fallon replied, regretting her impulsive invitation.

‘Your skin,’ he boldly touched her face, ‘is so soft, like velvet,’ he serenaded.

‘We should go back inside,’ Fallon retorted nervously.

Chilton griped her wrist, holding her back.  ‘But you know I want to kiss you my lady, in fact,’ he laughed foxily, ‘I want to ravish you,’ his head dipped towards hers.

Fallon wanted to throw up.  His breath was foul, his mouth rough, his lips coarse.   His tongue when he forced it into her mouth was rough and bruising like a cat’s.  Fallon was sure she was going to be sick.  She pushed at Chilton’s body, but he was strong.

‘Get away!’ Fallon managed to separate herself from the vile skunk.  ‘How dare you?’ 

Baxendale laughed heartily, pinning his arms around her again.  ‘You wanted it, my lady.  You knew exactly why I drew you into the garden. ‘

‘Take your filthy paws off me,’ Fallon hissed.

‘Not before I ___.’

‘Lovely evening, is it not?’  A familiar and welcome voice to Fallon, disturbed Baxendale.

Fallon breathed a sigh of relief.  What had she been thinking, accepting to come into the garden alone with that reprobate?  What was Braeden going to think of her? Especially after their romp in the hay?

Chilton stiffened.  Nothing better than having a beautiful lady to enjoy it with,’ he answered unsmilingly, not appreciating Braeden interrupting his pleasure, even if he was forcing his attention on his companion.

‘We were just going inside,’ Fallon rubbed her arm.  ‘It is suddenly cooler,’ her eyes locked with Chilton’s.  He was forced to agree and offer her his arm.

Braeden said nothing further.  He watched, eyes narrowed as the couple returned to the ballroom.  He was enraged that she was in the arms of that varl.  Did she not know of Baxendale’s notorious reputation?  Braeden clenched his fists angrily.  The vixen, even when physically in danger with a man, she defiantly stood her ground.  He wanted to put her over his knee and punish her, except knowing her, she would enjoy it.  He laughed to himself, but not for long, he needed to get that rogue Baxendale away from Fallon and he needed an urgent diversion.

‘Fallon, papa is unwell.  Mama says we are leaving,’ Emma courteously bowed to the duke before addressing her sister.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ the duke sincerely apologized. 

He was hoping for another opportunity to get his filthy hands on Fallon.  He had a plan to compromise her, then she would be forced to wed with him and he would have her day and night until he tired of her.  Once she produced an heir for the dukedom, he would return to his harlots.  He could not give them up entirely.  They pleasured him like no lady would dare to do.  He laughed silently.  He was very close to having the Lady Fallon as his duchess.  Soon, very soon, he would take her innocence.

‘Already?  That is a pity,’ Fallon was disappointed.

She would have liked more time at Hampton’s home, even if they were arguing and skirting around each other.  ‘Thank you, your grace,’ Fallon bowed.  ‘I do apologise that our time has been interrupted,’ she lied with a sympathetic smile that was false.

‘Not more so than I,’ Chilton’s eyes held Fallon’s.  ‘Perhaps I may call on you tomorrow to go riding with me,’ he smiled enchantingly.

Fallon smiled back.  ‘I look forward to it, your grace,’ she bowed and walked away with Emma.

‘I do believe the duke is smitten with you Fallon,’ Emma laughed softly.

Fallon snorted crudely.  ‘He is a pig,’ she whispered.

‘I did not want to say it,’ Emma whispered back, ‘but I fear him.’

‘He is harmless,’ Fallon laughed.

‘Do be careful Fallon.  The duke has a bad reputation and keeps company with shady people.’

‘You have nothing to fear Emma,’ Fallon laughed as they reached their parents.  Her father was seated and her mother was leaning over her father with concern.  She was surprised to see Braeden and Arthur Burward with her parents.  Fallon tried to bank the excitement building inside her at the sight of Braeden.

‘Papa, what is wrong?’  Fallon pressed her palm gently on her father’s shoulder.

The Baron shook his head slowly.  ‘My head ___ it hurts,’ he murmured softly.

‘We are ready to leave mama,’ Fallon addressed her mother.

‘Lord Hampton has just agreed that he will have two of his footmen accompany us.  He and Viscount Burward have offered to bring you and Emma home a little later.’

Fallon’s eyes met Braeden’s.  She could read nothing from his eyes.  She wondered why he was being so foolish.  It just meant that he would have to return home in the cold after dropping them off.  They could just as well leave now.  He did not need to inconvenience himself.

‘Surely that is unnecessary, Fallon began declining.  ‘We shall leave with you as well.’

Emma was discreetly tapping Fallon’s elbow.  She was in favour of having some time alone with Burward.

‘I think Lord Hampton’s idea is good,’ the baroness smiled at her daughters.  ‘There is no need for the two of you to rush home with us.  Stay,’ she instructed, ‘and enjoy the evening.’

‘Very well mama,’ Emma quickly spoke, fearing Fallon would again decline.  ‘We shall stay.’

Just then, the butler arrived to inform Braeden that the carriage was ready for the Fulham’s departure.  Fallon followed her parents to the door.  She didn’t know if she wanted to stay anymore.  She had had enough of Chilton and Braeden, but she did not want to disappoint Emma.

‘Take care papa,’ Fallon waved them off.

‘Why did you make such a foolish decision?’  Fallon scolded Braeden, when they were alone.

‘Wouldn’t you like Lady Emma and Burward to have some time together?’

‘So you engineered this solely for my sister and the viscount?’

‘Is there any other reason?’  He taunted.

‘What time are we leaving?’  She glared at him. 

‘Enthusiastic for my company?’

‘Hardly, I much prefer the duke’s company,’ she replied.  Braeden scowled angrily.

‘Emma, you and Burward can have the carriage,’ Fallon murmured.

‘No!  I cannot allow you to sit out front in the cold with Lord Hampton.  ‘You will freeze to death and besides it is inappropriate for you to drive alone with a gentleman Fallon,’ Emma whispered.

Fallon shivered, not from the cold.  Suddenly, it held appeal riding up front, in the dead of the night with Braeden. ‘Live a little Em.  Don’t you want to enjoy a romantic carriage ride alone with Arthur?’

Emma sighed.  It would be nice, but her sensibility overrode her.  ‘Our reputations will be ruined,’ she shook her head, ‘besides, it is far too cold for you outside the carriage.’

‘Nonsense,’ Fallon argued.  ‘There are hot bricks, blankets and the sides of the carriage has protective shields.’

‘You don’t like Lord Hampton.  What will you talk about during the journey?’  Emma whispered.

‘I am doing this for you and Arthur, Em.  Can’t you see how excited Arthur is?’

Emma shyly looked across at Arthur standing next to Braeden who was instructing his footmen to add extra lanterns and hot bricks.  Arthur smiled endearingly at Emma.

‘Are you sure about this Fallon?  It is cold.  Perhaps you should ride in the carriage with me ___ and Viscount Burward.’

‘I will be fine.  Look Hampton is adding more bricks.  It will be like a furnace there.’  And it would have nothing to do with the hot bricks.

Oh okay then,’ Emma reluctantly agreed.

‘Are you warm?’  Braeden wrapped a second blanket around Fallon.  ‘I cannot believe you will suffer my company just for Lady Emma’s pleasure,’ he grinned.

With all the lanterns adding extra light to guide them in the dark, Fallon could easily see the outline of Braeden’s handsome face.

‘I believe Viscount Burward is delighted too,’ she smiled.

‘Do you realize the baron will skin me alive, if he ever finds out I had you sitting out front with me unchaperoned and in the freezing cold?’

‘I won’t tell him, if you don’t,’ Fallon smiled mischievously.

Braeden laughed.  He put his arm around Fallon, pulling her closer to him.  You can rest on my shoulder and sleep if you like,’ his voice was soft, seductive, comforting.

‘Do you not need both hands to drive the carriage?’  She asked.

‘I will still be able to do so,’ he boasted.

Fallon warmed to the idea of getting closer to Braeden.  She had not given up the warmth and cosiness of the carriage for the evening view.  Being with Braeden excited her.  It made her feel dizzy with desire, even though he annoyed her to frustration.

Fallon leaned her head against his broad shoulder.  She was comforted by its strength.  ‘Are you going to sing me a lullaby?’  She teased.

Braeden laughed.  ‘Then you will definitely fall asleep.’

Fallon closed her eyes.  She leaned closer, lifting her hand across over his chest.  She felt his muscles tighten, felt him hold his breath.  What was this attraction between them?  Why did they argue so much?  Why couldn’t they have that easy companionship that Emma and Burward had? 

The silence was companionable.  Fallon listened to the hooves of the stallions as they sped in the dark, sure of the path they needed to take to get them to their home.

‘Braeden?’  Her voice was a whisper.  He heard her, yet he remained silent, not answering her.

Fallon lifted her head from his shoulder, her fingers reached out, gently turning his face to meet hers.  She pressed her lips to his, attempting to deepen the kiss.

‘Fallon!  What are you doing?  I need to see where I am driving.’

She giggled.  ‘Do you really?’  She whispered.

‘Yes!’  He pushed her away.  ‘My parents died in a carriage accident because of the recklessness of an inconsiderate gentleman!

-end chapter ten-