Chapter 4

4

O ne year later…

Tricia's cheeks warmed as she put down the magazine. Sarah had somehow got her hands on the next several issues of The Ruby , and she'd only brought them over to Tricia a few weeks earlier when they met for their afternoon stroll.

Tricia had hidden them deep within her valise after her maid had packed for the trip to the Ashford Estate. Only now had she gotten the courage to look at them. Two men! Scandalous!

She placed the illicit magazine back in its hiding place.

She was too excited to read more. For she was at the Ashford Estate once again, where the first ball of the season, complete with a house party at the estate, would commence soon, before next month, April, when the events of the season would move to London.

It would be Tricia's first ball.

Not only her first ball, but a ball hosted by the Earl of Ashford himself. The man of Tricia's dreams—Thomas Jameson. Lord Ashford and his mother were hosting the ball to signify the end of their year of mourning.

The young earl would be looking for a wife.

And Tricia hoped beyond all her wildest dreams that it could be her.

So often, she reminisced about the kiss they'd shared next to his father's gravesite. A bit macabre, to be certain, but the kiss had been anything but. It was a vivid sound in the symphony of her memories, a resonant note that echoed louder than all else. Amid the cold gray stones and an overcast sky, it had been a moment of color stolen from grief's oppressive grip, a moment so warm and intimate it left an indelible mark on her soul.

The kiss had been unexpected—a spontaneous collision of lips that tasted bittersweet, tinged both with the chill of loss and the warmth of affection. It was as fleeting as it was intense, leaving her gasping for breath, her heart pounding.

But it only made the truth that much clearer. She was completely and utterly infatuated with Thomas Jameson. Consumed by desire. No other man could ever compare.

In the days that followed, she dared not speak of it. If Cameron ever found out…

Oh! It would be a disgrace, and he'd force Thomas to marry her.

Which wouldn't be a horrid thing, but she wanted more than a marriage of obligation.

As she entered the lavish ballroom next to her mother, Tricia widened her eyes in awe at the spectacle before her. The room, a grand cathedral of wealth and refinement, buzzed with the excitement of the season's inaugural ball. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the assembly of nobility gathered below. They caught the light and scattered it across the walls, which were adorned with silk draperies and masterful paintings depicting exquisite scenes from Greek mythology.

The air was filled with the lush fragrance of thousands of fresh flowers arranged in intricate bouquets that adorned every surface and corner and infused the space with the scent of roses, lilies, and exotic blooms imported from the far reaches of the empire. The floor, a polished expanse of gleaming marble, reflected the shimmering lights and the colorful array of gowns worn by the ladies in attendance, creating a kaleidoscope of movement and color.

Ornate tables lined the edges of the room decorated with silver candelabras and an array of refreshments. Delicate pastries, sumptuous meats, and an assortment of fruits and cheeses were displayed alongside crystal decanters filled with fine wines and champagnes.

The string quartet, positioned at one end of the ballroom, filled the air with the strains of a lilting waltz. Many attendees had already taken to the floor to partake in the dance. Tricia, her heart beating with anticipation and wonder, felt as though she had stepped into a living dream, a world of splendor and celebration where every detail had been crafted to perfection.

And then she saw him.

Thomas made a striking entrance into the ballroom of his grand estate, his brown hair impeccably styled, catching the soft glow of the crystal chandeliers overhead. Dressed in a tailored evening suit that accentuated his muscled frame, he exuded a natural, understated grace. Every detail, from the silk lapels to the subtle glint of cufflinks at his wrists to his polished black boots, only served to heighten the natural beauty of his face and body.

As he moved through the crowd, his presence commanded attention. His smile, when he offered it, was genuine and warm, bridging the gap between his noble stature and the gathered guests. The murmurs in the room crescendoed as he passed, with many an admiring glance cast in his direction, marking his arrival as the highlight of the evening's commencement.

Tricia's gown, a masterpiece of silk and lace that matched the deep blue of her eyes, rustled softly as she shifted her weight from one slippered foot to the other. She mustn't stare. She absolutely mustn't.

Lord Victor Polk, whom she had met briefly at the funeral as he was a good friend of the Duke of Lybrook, approached her and nodded to her mother.

"Lady Patricia," he began, his voice smooth as the velvety night, "you illuminate this room. May I be so bold as to request the pleasure of this dance?"

Tricia, her heart fluttering like a caged bird, managed a smile. "My lord, I am honored. Yes, I would like that very much." She shifted her gaze from one end of the ballroom to the other, feeling a slight quiver in her breast. "I must admit, though, this is all quite new to me."

His laugh was light and dispelled some of her apprehension. "I understand completely. But fear not, my lady. Think of the dance as merely a conversation between our steps."

Her laughter joined his, a sound more nervous than she intended. "In that case, I hope not to converse too clumsily on your feet, my lord." Now why had she said that? Why would she draw attention to her clumsiness? She would now surely fumble.

Lord Victor responded with a dazzling smile. "Should such a misstep occur, Lady Patricia, it will only serve to make the evening more memorable. Besides, the true joy of the dance lies in the company, not the perfection of the steps."

Lord Victor's lively banter helped sooth the knots of her nervousness. "Then I look forward to our conversation, my lord."

They moved to the dance floor, the music enveloping them. As they began to dance, Tricia's initial trepidation melted away under the guidance of Victor's assured steps.

She cast glances at Thomas, hoping he might pay her some attention, but for now he stayed at his mother's side as young lady after young lady was introduced to him.

No one would introduce Tricia to Thomas. They already knew each other. Their circles ran quite close to each other, especially after Rose and Cameron were married.

He most likely still thought of her as a child…though they had shared that spectacular kiss the day of his father's burial.

The kiss that had haunted Tricia's dreams for the past twelve months.

She could still feel his lips on hers. Still smell the earthy tinge of the brisk air. Still see his beautiful brown eyes as he looked at her. As he offered his apologies.

He looked much the same now, except his forehead held some new wrinkles. The year had been turmoil for him. Rose had spoken of it from time to time, and of course whenever Thomas's name came up, Tricia had perked up her ears.

"You dance divinely," Lord Victor said to her.

"Oh." Tricia looked back to meet the gaze of her dancing partner. "Thank you very much, my lord. You do as well."

The dance came to an end, and Tricia gave a short curtsy.

"Thank you for the dance, my lady," Victor said with a smile. "May I offer you a refreshment?"

It would be rude to refuse, though Tricia desperately wanted to go talk to Lady Ashford and Thomas. It wouldn't be out of place, after all. They were practically family.

"Of course," she said. "That would be lovely."

Lord Victor offered his arm and she slid her gloved hand onto his elbow as they walked toward one of the refreshment tables.

"Wine?" he asked.

"I shall stick with lemonade for now," Tricia said. "Wine does make me fretfully tired."

"We don't want that," Lord Victor said with a wink. "I'd like you fully alert so we can share another dance."

Such a brazen flirtation might have normally unsettled Tricia, but she felt absolutely nothing at Lord Victor's suggestion. Her gaze—and her heart—remained steadfastly focused on Thomas, who had still not taken a single young lady to the dance floor.

"I should enjoy that," Tricia said.

Indeed, Lord Victor was handsome and a wonderful dancer. She knew next to nothing about him, other than he was a friend of the duke's and a neighbor of Thomas's, as his father's estate was adjacent to the Ashford's. She would ask Cameron, but when she looked for him, she saw that he and Rose were dancing. They looked so beautiful together. Rose's pale blondness contrasted Cameron's hair as dark as coal, just like Tricia's.

Now what?

She couldn't monopolize Lord Victor. Nor did she want to. Though Thomas seeing her dance with others wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.

She glanced again toward Thomas when another young gentleman approached them. "Lord Victor," he said, "I would consider it a favor if you could introduce me to this lovely young lady."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Lady Patricia Price-Adams, I'd like to present Mr. Jonathan Jameson, cousin to the earl."

"Oh!" Tricia nearly dropped her lemonade. "How have we never met then? You know my brother is married to the earl's sister Rose."

This time Mr. Jameson nearly dropped his jaw. "You are that Patricia? I'm truly charmed." He took Tricia's hand and brushed his lips over her white glove.

She drew her hand away, and beside her, Lord Victor looked anything but pleased.

"Might you honor me with the next dance, my lady?" Mr. Jameson asked.

She eyed the earl's cousin. He was devastatingly handsome. Indeed he resembled Thomas a bit—the same dark good looks—though he was a few inches shorter.

"Yes, of course, sir," Tricia said.

She took Mr. Jameson's hand and let him lead her back to the dance floor where the next dance, a waltz, was beginning.

Tricia knew how to waltz well. She and Kat had spent many fun afternoons practicing the steps around their small home on the Lybrook estate near Bath while Cameron strummed his guitar or plucked out a tune on their old pianoforte.

Tricia loved living the luxurious life, but there were times when she looked back on those simpler days with fondness. They were always together, and even though they didn't have a lot, they were happy. She and Kat were, at least. Cameron was always a bit broody, especially after he met and fell in love with Rose and knew he couldn't have her.

Mr. Jameson was an even better dancer than Lord Victor, and more handsome as well. Perhaps he could be a substitute for Thomas, if the earl didn't look her way again.

But as handsome and fluid on the floor as he was, Jonathan was not Thomas.

Jonathan hadn't kissed her by his father's gravesite.

Jonathan didn't make her pulse race, or make that forbidden place between her legs quiver.

When the music ended, Tricia curtsied politely and smiled.

"Thank you, Lady Patricia," Jonathan said. "It was an honor. I'm so glad we met."

"As am I," Tricia said. "But if you would excuse me, I need to rest for a moment."

"Of course." He bowed politely and then strode toward his cousin and aunt.

Tricia drew in a breath and walked out of the ballroom and toward the ladies' retiring room.

Sarah was there, and she pounced on Tricia. "Two such handsome men! I'm fraught with envy, Tricia."

Tricia sat down on a velvet stool and stared at her reflection in the looking glass. "Not the man I want, though."

Sarah sighed. "The earl is scrumptious, to be sure, but either of the two you were dancing with would be suitable substitutes."

Sarah's words triggered a rush of warmth to Tricia's face. She quickly looked around the room.

"Lower your voice!" Tricia warned. Indeed, they were alone, thank goodness. Sarah was the only person in whom Tricia had confided about her unrequited love for Thomas. "You're welcome to either of them if you'd like. They're perfectly fine gentlemen, but I'm not feeling so much as a spark."

"Who needs a spark?" Sarah laughed. "We can get all the sparks we need by reading The Ruby . Surely you've…you know."

Tricia raised her eyebrows. "Surely I've what?"

Sarah leaned closer. "While reading the stories, you can slide your hand under your garments and?—"

Tricia clasped her hand over her mouth. "Stop that right now!"

"Don't tell me you haven't tried it."

"I have not, of course!"

Her words were not a lie, although she was well aware of the intense feeling down there. She had, on occasion, let her fingers wander under her chemise to her hard nipples. Just a fluttery touch and they responded, shooting more desire between her thighs. But those feelings were not from reading The Ruby . Indeed, she'd only read a few episodes of one story.

They were from dreaming of Thomas, the Earl of Ashford.

"You must," Sarah whispered wickedly. "There's a magic button called your clitoris. Touch it the next time you read one of the stories. See what happens."

"I absolutely shall not!" Tricia whispered back. "Never in a million years."

Then she closed her lips as two other ladies entered the room, one being the Duchess of Lybrook herself, Lily Farnsworth.

"Tricia, my dear," she said. "You are looking lovely this evening."

Tricia rose. "Thank you, Your Grace. As are you."

She laughed. "What is this ‘your grace' business? I've been Lily to you since Rose and Cam married."

Tricia furrowed her brow. "I just thought…since we're at a ball and all…"

"A ball at my brother's estate," she said. "You know I laugh in the face of convention. I've always thought it was a bunch of nonsense."

Tricia laughed as well. She did like Lily so. Her sister Rose was much quieter, though equally lovely.

"May I present Lady Sarah Keating," Tricia said to Lily. "Sarah, this is Lily Farnsworth, the Duchess of Lybrook. She's Rose's sister."

"An honor to meet you, Your Grace." Sarah gave a short curtsy.

"Not you too." Lily laughed. "Any friend of Tricia's is a friend of mine. Are the two of you enjoying the festivities?"

"It's just luscious," Sarah said. "This season is going to be so much fun!"

"The two of you take me back," Lily said. "I truly dreaded my first season, but let me tell you a secret." She looked around as the other lady who came in with her left. "I was ruined by my esteemed husband after the first ball!"

Sarah's cheeks reddened. "Your Grace!"

"Phooey," Lily said. "It's Lily. And I'll tell you what. I fought tooth and nail against him when he forced me into marriage. But it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Daniel and I are soulmates of the most perfect kind. He lets me be me, and I let him be him, and we love each other with a mad intensity."

Sarah fanned her face with her hand. "I can't believe what you're saying. It's simply scandalous!"

Tricia glanced at her best friend. Had she really just used that word? Scandalous? When she was telling Tricia to touch herself while reading erotic material not a moment ago?

Tricia's brother ruined Lily's sister in quite the same way, from what Tricia understood. Of course, it was not any of her business, so she stayed out of it.

"I'm not recommending that either of you take that particular route," Lily assured them. "It truly was disreputable, and I'll tell you that I didn't give two figs about the season or becoming a lady of the peerage or any of that ridiculousness, but it all turned out perfectly in the end." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I couldn't be happier."

"I want to find a husband," Sarah said, rising. "That's why I'm here, after all. So I'd best get to it. Mum will wonder where I've gone. So lovely to meet you, Your Grace." She curtsied and left the retiring room.

Tricia looked back in the looking glass. Did Lily know how she felt about Thomas? Thomas was her brother, after all.

Perhaps…

"Lily," Tricia began.

"Yes, love?"

"Does your brother have his eye on anyone?"

Lily frowned. "Goodness, I don't know. He's got more sense than a lot of young bucks, but he's been known to be indiscriminate."

Lily's words impaled Tricia's heart like a dagger. So that kiss on his father's gravesite truly didn't mean anything. Tricia had just found herself at the right place at the right time.

"But I don't think he's ready to take a wife, to be honest. Mummy is after him about it, of course. Says we need a new lady of the house. She's still mourning the loss of Papa, and I think she'd like to have someone else take on the hosting responsibilities of the estate. Seeing to the tenants and all."

Tricia grew up as a tenant on the Lybrook estate. When Lily and the duke were betrothed, she and Rose accompanied the dowager duchess's sister one afternoon when they stopped to see Mummy and offer provisions. Cameron took one look at Rose and…

Well, life was never the same after that moment.

Still, Tricia's heart broke a little. Thomas didn't want a wife.

Despite that incredible kiss they shared on the day of his father's burial.

It may have been Tricia's first kiss with the man she adored, but Thomas had no doubt kissed many. It meant nothing to him. He was simply a man trying to cope with a loss by engaging in something physical.

Sadness overwhelmed her.

"Tricia?" Lily said. "Why do you look so glum all of a sudden?"

Tricia forced a smile. "I'm fine, Lily. Truly. The ball is so fabulous. The food is wonderful, and I've had two dances already. One with a cousin of yours."

"Jonathan?" Lily says. "Yes, he's been overseas in the Americas for the last several years. It's been lovely to see him. His father, Lord Pembroke Jameson, was my uncle. He passed away shortly before Papa did, while they were overseas in New York."

"I'm so sorry."

Lily's gaze fell to the floor. "Yes, we all were, but they tended to Uncle Pem, and we tended to Papa here at home. The two brothers were somewhat estranged, which is quite sad. I know Papa always wanted to make things up between them, but with Pem being in the Americas…" She looked out the stained-glass window onto the manicured courtyard. "They just never had the chance, and now they're both gone."

"When did Jonathan return?" Tricia asked.

Lily blinked and then returned her focus to Tricia. "Only recently. He was dealing with his own father's estate abroad. Pem didn't have any estate here, of course, being the younger son, though Papa did give him a small allowance, I believe. He was in the gemstone business—rubies and sapphires, mostly."

"I see. I'm so sorry for the loss of your uncle as well."

"Yes, well, as I said. We hadn't seen any of them in quite some time." She reached into her reticule, removed a cream-colored lace handkerchief, and dabbed at her eye. "I do wish Papa could have made peace with his brother, though, before they both passed."

Tricia simply nodded.

"But tell me," Lily said. "Did either of the gentlemen strike your fancy?"

Tricia feigned thoughtfulness for a moment. "They were both very handsome. But I have my eye on another."

Lily smiled. "Do I know him?"

"You do," Tricia said.

Her cheeks immediately began burning. She'd spoken too soon. What if Lily asked his name?

Lily narrowed her gaze at Tricia, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Whoever it is, I think you should pursue him. You're the belle of the ball, Tricia. No one here compares to you. You could easily be the most beautiful woman in Britain."

Tricia's cheeks warmed. She was thankful Lily hadn't asked for the name of her object of affection, but she was also taken aback. Lily had always been the most beautiful woman in Britain as far as Tricia was concerned. She was Thomas in female form. What could be more beautiful than that?

While Rose was also beautiful, she was delicate as porcelain, whereas Lily was strong and fierce with a wild beauty that Tricia always found much more pleasing.

"Off with you now," Lily said. "Go join Sarah in the ballroom. Bat your eyes and hold your fan to emphasize that lovely bosom. The gentleman you're interested in will have no choice but to notice you."