A Fine Passion (Bastion Club 4)

“You’ll cut him to ribbons.” Jack smiled against her hair. “You can help me choose which of my other properties to make over to him. I think he’ll do well, once he’s trained and has something behind him.”

She nodded. “Something that’s his.”

She drew back, and he let her. He looked down at her face, marveled at all she’d said, at all they’d shared. “You do know that I would trade everything that’s mine in this life, just as long as that meant you were mine?”

Clarice reached up and framed his face, looked into his eyes. “Take me back to Avening.”

He smiled, not his charming smile but the sincere expression that was so much more potent. “That will be my pleasure.”

She smiled back, slowly, tauntingly. “Indeed. That, too.”

Reaching up, she wound her arms about his neck, and drew his head down to hers. “But for tonight…”

Tonight, all that was left of it, was theirs. Theirs to share in a private celebration, and more, to go further, to take their first joyous steps into their joint future, to laugh, to play, to pleasure, to share.

In the soft shadows of her bedroom, in the warm jumble of her bed, they loved, and embraced all that flowed from that, that grew and burgeoned and welled from that. Carried in each caress, in every sighing kiss, in each moan, each surrender, the glory swelled, poured through them, filled them.

They exulted as the tapestry of pleasure and delight, of sensual glory and the overwhelming beauty of love’s transcendent power spun about them, trapped them, and held them. Until, at the last, it swept them, senses shattered, from the world.

Into that place beyond reality where only true hearts and souls could go.

Into a landscape that was familiar yet subtly altered, more definite, more distinct, more sure. More emotionally certain. Together, hand in hand, they gloried in the change, welcomed it and explored; side by side, they drew their new landscape into their hearts, into their lives, and made it a part of them.

Now, forever, always theirs.

The Altwood engagement ball, held at Melton House three nights later, became the most celebrated event of the Season. Never before in the annals of the ton had four scions of a noble house announced their engagements all on one night, at one place, at one time.

The ton was beyond dazzled.

Clarice wore the plum silk gown. She wanted the ton to remember this night, her swan song, the only ball she would ever host under her ancestral roof, the ball celebrating her own engage

ment along with those of her three brothers.

She wanted the ton to remember her as that scandalous Lady Clarice in her daring plum silk gown.

She succeeded.

The announcements were made with all due ceremony at a dinner for sixty attended by many of the most influential in the ton, then she and her brothers and their soon-to-be spouses welcomed the army of the fashionable who had, one and all, responded to her invitation to join their celebration.

In bright satins and silks, black coats and white cravats, the crowd thronged the ballroom, flowed onto the terrace, even filled the stairs, all eager to view the most exciting moment, when the newly affianced couples took to the floor to lead the company in the first waltz.

When the musicians set bow to string and the summons rang out, the crowd quieted and held their collective breaths.

Proud and transparently happy, Alton led Sarah down the wide stairs, followed by Roger and Alice, and Nigel and Emily. Clarice and Jack brought up the rear, but when Alton reach the bottom of the sweeping staircase, he stepped to the side, and halted, Sarah on his arm. Roger followed suit, moving to the other side of the stairs with Alice, Nigel and Emily close on their heels.

Leaving Jack and Clarice center stage.

The expectation gripping the crowd abruptly cinched a notch tighter. A few gasps were heard; a ripple of whispers sped down the long room, but quickly died. All eyes remained trained on the couples at the bottom of the stairs.

On Jack’s arm, Clarice stepped off the last stair. Surprised, she looked at Alton.

He smiled. “You should always have been the first. You’ve always given us the lead in matters such as this. Without you, God only knows if we would be here, like this, tonight.” With a graceful gesture, he waved her on. “After you, sister dear.”

Clarice looked into his eyes, then looked at Sarah.

Smiling mistily, Sarah nodded. “You and Jack first.”

The music swelled; at Jack’s touch on her bare back, Clarice inclined her head regally to her brother, then turned into Jack’s arms.