Bobbi Smith - Captive Pride

“A sherry, CC?”

“Please.” She accepted the crystal glass and sipped delicately of its amber contents as she moved to the window.

“Lord Kincade will be here, you know, as well as his brother,” Edward offered.

A smile curved her lips, but did not reach her eyes, as she replied in a teasing tone that hid her very real aversion to the man, “I know, and I promise not to embroil him in any more political discussions.”

Secretly, CC dreaded the upcoming confrontation, for she wasn’t overly confident of her acting abilities. She despised Kincade from the very depths of her soul, and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to speak to him at all beyond a welcoming greeting. After that initial encounter, she was going to make every effort to avoid him. Considering all that had happened, CC was certain that that arrangement would suit him, too.

For an instant the fear stabbed at her that Kincade might reveal all to her father, but she quickly forced the possibility from her mind. He’d be a fool to risk exposing his own involvement with the rebels, and she knew, in spite of everything else, that Lord Noah Kincade was no fool.

The sound of a knock at the door and the servant answering signaled the beginning of the party, and Edward and CC went forth to welcome their guests.

Tall, blond, and stylishly attired in an intricately embroidered scarlet coat and matching vest, Lord Geoffrey Radcliffe, second son of the Earl of Radcliffe, stood at the edge of the ballroom dance floor savoring his tumbler of Edward Demorest’s expensive whiskey and contemplating his lot in life. All in all, things weren’t going too badly for him. Not that he relished living in the colonies, but when one had no alternative, one had to make the best of it. Money had never been a problem, as his father was more than happy to pay whatever amount it took to keep his “disgraceful” youngest son out of the way. He lived as comfortable an existence as possible in Boston and did not suffer too much the inconvenience.

Geoffrey’s thin, cruel lips twisted into a cynical smile at the thought of his family’s opinion of him, and he took a deep drink of his whiskey. He found their collective condemning of him amusing. Still, it did have the power to irritate. Who were they to criticize, when they were as immoral in their own vices as he had been in his? Only, he had had the misfortune of being discovered and, therefore, had lost favor with the king. It irked him that he was banished from his home, but he knew he was better off where he was. Certainly, had he been allowed to remain, he would have had difficulty tolerating his older brother James’s constant criticism. Geoffrey had always hated James, the next in line for the title of Earl of Radcliffe, for his superior attitude, and he realized that the distance between them was a good thing.

The sound of more guests arriving drew his dark, brooding gaze to the main hall, and a glimmer of appreciation lit his expression as he caught sight of the fair widow Eve Woodham making her grand entrance. Geoffrey’s pulse quickened as he remembered their last encounter, and he thrust all thoughts of his family from him. Eve was the main reason that his life here in the colonies was tolerable, and he could hardly wait until he could maneuver her into a secluded corner tonight so they could be alone. He was enamored with her lithe body and the wild spontaneity of her lovemaking. She was more enticing than any of the women he’d dallied with in England, and Geoffrey was totally caught up in the web of her sensuality.

Even though he wanted to hurry forth and claim her for his own, Geoffrey held back. He was a nobleman and his position dictated that it would not do to appear too eager for her company. He would wait patiently until she’d swept into the ballroom and charmed all those present before approaching her. Turning to a group of men nearby, he joined in their conversation.

“Eve…so glad you could come.” CC greeted Eve with apparent warmth, for, though she had known her for years, she had never developed a fondness for her. Eve represented all that CC disliked in a woman because she used the “helplessness” of her femininity to entice men. CC knew better. There was nothing helpless about her; the woman was a vulture where men were concerned. She had observed her manipulations of her admirers for a long time and understood her motives perfectly-Eve Woodham was out to catch the richest husband she could. CC wondered why the men didn’t realize it.

“It was so kind of you to have me,” Eve returned sweetly as she eyed CC’s emerald gown. She recognized the styling and craftsmanship as the work of one of the finest seam-stresses in the city but decided that, attractive though the gown might be, it was not nearly as exciting as her own. She smiled to herself as the butler came to slip her wrap from her shoulders, revealing to all the daring cut of her décolletage.

“Eve, my dear, you look beautiful,” Edward told her gallantly as he bent over her hand.

“Thank you, Edward,” she preened under his flattery.

“Your gown is lovely,” CC added, admiring the style but wondering why Eve had felt it necessary to bare so much of her bosom. Was there someone here she was trying to ensnare with her “charms”? “And your hairstyle is striking.” Though not an admirer of powdered hair, CC had to admit that Eve’s stylist had created something very eye-catching. If the hair doesn’t attract the man she’s after tonight, she thought a bit cattily, the gown will certainly do the trick.

“I had the gown made especially for tonight, and Peggy designed my hair. It’s absolutely marvelous, isn’t it?” Eve glowed as she leaned toward Edward. “Has he arrived yet?” she asked, lowering her voice to an almost conspiratory pitch.

“Yes, Geoffrey is-” Edward started, but she interrupted, touching his arm as she gave a light laugh.

“Not Geoffrey. Lord Noah Kincade. I’ve heard so much about him lately that I just can’t wait to meet him.”

“Lord Kincade…of course…” he blustered. “No, he hasn’t made an appearance yet, but I’m sure he’ll be arriving soon.”

“You’ve met him already, haven’t you, Cecelia?” Eve asked, keeping her tone casual lest she reveal too much of her excitement at finally having the opportunity to meet the nobleman.

CC didn’t understand why, but the other woman’s mention of Kincade annoyed her.

“Oh yes, I’ve met him,” CC answered through gritted teeth. She remembered the last time she’d seen him, and his words-You may come to my room at the Red Lion later-rang through her mind.

“And?” Eve pressed, eager for any information she could glean about the rich lord.

“He’s a very handsome, charming man.” CC almost gagged on the lie. Handsome? Once she had thought him so, but no longer. And charming? Hatred flamed anew within her as she thought of that night. Noah Kincade had all the charm of a snake…the morals, too.

“Then I bet you’re excited about seeing him again tonight,” Eve ventured.

“He’s only a business acquaintance of my father’s, Eve.” CC managed to disguise her uneasiness at the thought of facing him. “John is here, you know.”

She glanced back toward the ballroom doorway and was pleased to see John making his way toward her, the pale blue velvet of his embroidered coat enhancing his blond attractiveness. He looked most handsome this night, and CC knew she should be thrilled to be the object of his affections, but somehow she wasn’t.

“Of course; how could I have forgotten?” Eve flashed John the smile she reserved for men only, then brashly asked within John’s earshot, “And just how long are you going to toy with John’s affections, CC?”

CC stiffened at her inquiry and was tempted to tell her bluntly that it was none of her damned business, but she refrained. “If and when I decide to marry, Eve, you’ll be among the first to know, I’m sure.”