Her Dearest Enemy by Elizabeth Lane

Author:Elizabeth Lane [Elizabeth Lane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781408901045
Publisher: Harlequin Mills & Boon Ltd.
Published: 2008-04-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Until a moment ago Harriet had loved the beautiful earrings Jenny had lent her. She had loved the weight of them, their faint musical tinkle as she danced, and the warmth of red-gold light that burned in the depths of each faceted carnelian bead. Until a moment ago, they had possessed an aura of pure magic.

But not now.

“Oh,” she whispered, gazing up at Brandon with stricken eyes. “Oh, Brandon, I’m so sorry! It was Jenny’s idea to lend me these earrings. I’m sure she only meant to be kind, but I should have realized where they came from—” Her fumbling fingers reached up for the wires, but she swiftly realized that removing the earrings would only rouse people’s curiosity. It would be more discreet to leave them in place.

“Jenny inherited her mother’s jewelry,” Brandon said stiffly. “The pieces are hers, and she has the right to do whatever she pleases with them.”

“But for me to wear them here, to flaunt them in front of you and all these people—”

“Harriet, you didn’t know.” He sighed wearily. “Now let’s just finish our dance before people start looking at us.”

They moved like marionettes as the waltz played out to its end. Harriet stared fixedly at Brandon’s neatly tied cravat, acutely conscious of the pressure of his hand against the small of her back and the clamminess of her fingers where they rested in his palm. He held her as lightly as he might have held one of Jenny’s porcelain dolls, and with no more emotion. Oh, why hadn’t she stayed behind the baked-goods table where she belonged? She should have known what a terrible mess she’d make of the whole evening.

The music swelled to a crescendo and crashed into silence as the fiddler lowered his bow. Harriet shot Brandon a farewell glance and made a break for her table—only to be swept back into the maelstrom of dancers by the handsome young sheriff. “You’re a popular lady!” he said, grinning down at her. “I’ve been waiting to get another dance with you!” With that he caught her waist and whirled her into the bounding rhythm of another polka.

“Hang on to your hairpins, Miss Harriet!” he laughed. “Here’s how we do this dance in Texas!”

* * *

Brandon watched from the corner of the hall as Harriet flew around the floor with Matt Langtry. Flushed and laughing, with the Hungarian shawl bringing out the color in her face, she looked downright seductive, he thought—but then, he had long since concluded she was a beautiful woman. Tonight other men were clearly thinking the same thing.

The young sheriff, known to be a ladies’ man, was probably just having a good time. All the same, Brandon’s fists were quietly clenching with the urge to storm the dance floor, punch him in the jaw and reclaim Harriet for himself.

All evening, from the moment he saw her, Brandon had ached to have her in his arms. That ache had driven him to brave the waltz on his still-injured leg.

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