Deadly Desire by Brenda Joyce

Author:Brenda Joyce
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2012-06-04T22:49:02+00:00

Chapter Eleven

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1902 — 7:00 P.M.

Francesca was rigid with tension, which could not possibly be a result of nerves, as their supper guests arrived. Julia was greeting Rathe and Grace Bragg as they stepped into the hall, but Francesca stood at its far end, on the threshold of the salon where they would sip a cocktail before their meal. She had refused to dress with care for her mother's miserable effort at matchmaking; then, at the last moment, when it was far too late to tong her hair, she had had her maid, Bette, help her tear off an old and boring dove gray gown, replacing it with her new turquoise one, which she had worn the night before to the Plaza. She had managed to loosen her chignon and pull a few wisps of hair out so they feathered her face and neck. She had even dabbed rouge lightly on her lips. She knew damn well what she was doing. She wanted Hart to think her beautiful, as foolish as that desire might be.

Julia and Grace were embracing, but not warmly, and their exchange was both cautious and polite. Francesca could imagine why, for what common bond would a wealthy socialite share with a crusading suffragette? Rathe was saying that Hart and Rourke would be there at any moment, as Hart had gone to pick up Lucy at the Plaza and Rourke was checking up on Sarah Channing.

Her father had just come downstairs and he paused beside her. "You are so beautiful tonight, Francesca," he said, but he wasn't smiling. His eyes were sad.

Instantly, Francesca recalled the terrible argument she had witnessed that afternoon. She took his arm and kissed his cheek. "Please make up with Mama. Please."

He said, "This is not your affair, Francesca," quietly, but still, his words were a shock.

And he was wrong. "Papa! It is my affair! You are my parents—and Evan is my brother!"

He patted her shoulder, smiled firmly, and left her standing there. "Rathe! It is so good to see you!"

Rathe strode forward and the two men clasped hands, smiling now, their expressions as warm and friendly as their wives' had been cautious and wary. Suddenly Lucy stepped into the house, devastatingly beautiful in a Persian lamb coat that had been dyed burgundy to match her dress. Hart was behind her.

As she and Julia clasped hands and exchanged greetings, Hart's gaze found Francesca instantly. She felt more tension overcome her and she forgot to breathe.

His gaze found her, slid over her, and then he was smiling at Julia and murmuring a polite and charming greeting. Oddly, Francesca felt her cheeks warming. She quickly turned and stepped into the salon, needing to compose herself.

What was Julia thinking? Why couldn't she leave well enough alone? Why were reputable young women expected to marry and bear and raise children? How could she convince her mother to leave her alone!

Francesca crossed the opulent room, which was a smaller version of the grand salon, and she pushed open the terrace doors.

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