Twilight 0f Memory (Historical Regency Romance) Read online

  Damon looked askance at her. "I'll expect you to call me Damon. After all, we're soon to become engaged."

  Refusing to look at him, Elizabeth said, "We will not be engaged under any circumstances, and if you think by marrying me you can recover your opal you're mistaken. I don't have it. Januz Kazinczy, a man on the tribal council, took it from me when I was leaving. He's also the man who killed your gateman."

  Damon took so long to reply, Elizabeth thought he hadn't heard her. Then it came to her that he was only just now learning that she no longer had the opal. He removed the spectacles and slipped them into his breast pocket, then looking at her, guardedly, he said, "Why should I believe you? You've done nothing but lie to me since the day we met."

  "I won't deny I've lied to you," Elizabeth said, "but this time it's the truth. If Januz hadn't taken the opal from me I would have returned it to the tribe as I'd been instructed to do. I did not find my way into your house to steal it for myself, and I had nothing to do with your gateman being killed, even though it was my knife that killed him. Januz found my knife where you and I had been... umm… that is... it must have come loose when I was dancing."

  A glimmer of belief flared in Damon's eyes. "That may be, because it was not on your leg when I ran my hand up it. Your leg was bare, all the way up your thigh."

  Elizabeth was so angry she could barely get the words out when she said, "Do not ever speak of that incident again. I hate you because of it and I want nothing to do with you ever again. And since I no longer have the opal you have no reason to marry me. The sale of Shanti Bhavan should provide enough money to clear your name and re-establish yourself in London."

  "If you're telling the truth, my marriage offer still stands because the sale of Shanti Bhavan would not begin to cover the expenses needed to clear my name and restore Westwendham. After the opera we'll thrash out the rest of my proposal. There's more, which I will not be discussing with your father, for obvious reasons."

  "There's nothing you could possibly add that would tempt me to change my mind. In fact, I cannot think of anyone I'd rather not marry than you."

  "I hold the same sentiment for you, but the fact remains, I need your dowry and my opal, and you need the truth about your unsavory past with gypsies kept silent so your father won't turn you into the gutter. It's as simple as that."

  Elizabeth couldn't argue. Her father had done precisely that with her mother, no doubt because he'd learned she was not simply a Hindu woman, but the daughter of gypsies. "Then you're threatening to tell him everything if I don't agree to marry you?"

  Damon eyed her with dispassion. "I'll do whatever it takes. Like I told you before, I always get what I want, and I want you."

  "You want my dowry and your opal back, not me," Elizabeth clipped.

  "I want you in my bed, gypsy girl, there's no question about that. I've wanted you in my bed from the moment I saw you at the horse fair and nothing's changed. I want to feel all that raw passion and wild spirit beneath me and see the fire in your eyes when you abandon yourself to me. That day will come."

  "I'll slit my wrists first."

  "I assure you, it won't come to that, and we will discuss my marriage offer after the opera. Meanwhile, this will be your night to show London society that Lady Elizabeth Sheffield has Prince Rao Singh on his knees, professing his undying love, and begging her to marry him, or he'll go mad." He curved his arm around her.

  Elizabeth flinched. "What do you think you're doing?"

  "Picking up where we left off in India. I want you to kiss me with fire and passion, the way you did the night you slipped your hand into my pocket and took my opal. You know how, gypsy girl, the way you kiss a man when you want something from him." To her shock, he placed his lips on the swell of her breast.

  "Stop this at once!" When Elizabeth raised her hand to slap his face, Damon caught her wrist.

  His hand clamped tight, Damon said, "I'm only taking what you offered when you agreed to be my mistress then vanished into the night with my opal."

  "But I'm not your mistress so you have no right to do what you just did." If Elizabeth hadn't been so furious she would have burst into tears from the humiliation this man continued to inflict on her. He intended to take full advantage of her brief episode of indiscretion when she'd been forced to live by her wits, and she had no way of convincing him that the crafty gypsy girl she'd fashioned herself to be was not a shameless strumpet skilled at seducing men, but a virtuous woman who wanted to be loved, and cherished, and treated like the lady she was trying so desperately to become. And she wanted Eliza Shirazi banished from her life forever.

  The irony was, when she was Eliza Shirazi she was too far beneath Lord Damon Ravencroft to become his wife, only his mistress, but as the daughter of Lord William Sheffield she's too high-born to be his mistress, but worthy enough to be his wife, as long as she came with a sizable dowry. And all she wanted was for Damon Ravencroft to be out of her life, forever.

  She flipped open her fan and fluttered it in front of her chest to protect herself against more unwanted advances. "I could tell the police you are a wanted man and you'd be arrested for murder and you wouldn't be marrying me or anyone else."

  "You could. Why haven't you?"

  "I still may. There's nothing stopping me."

  "You're right." Damon rapped on the coach window and the driver pulled the coach to a halt. Raising the shade, Damon poked his head out the window and said, "Christopher, the lady would like to make a detour by the police station before going to the theater."

  "As you wish, sir." The driver turned the horses around.

  "You're so sure of yourself," Elizabeth said, "but you have no idea what I'll do when we get there."

  "Then we'll soon find out." Damon gazed with indifference out the window.

  As the coach continued toward the police station, Elizabeth sat in stony silence, deliberating whether to shock Damon by turning him over to the police, or give him the upper hand by backing down and saying nothing. The temptation to do the former was so strong sweat dampened her brow and her stomach clenched from the resentment and exasperation of being boxed in a corner.

  The coach came to a halt in front of the police station and the footman climbed down and opened the door for Elizabeth to step out. She looked at the large brick building and felt her temper flare. Lowering her voice so the footman would not hear, she said to Damon, "If I had my way you'd hang by your neck in the town square." Yet she made no move to leave the coach.

  Damon leaned toward her. "I'm giving you the chance to make it happen. All you have to do is walk into that building and tell them who I am and it's over for me. But keep in mind that before long you'll be on the streets. Think long and hard before you act." He sat back and waited.

  After several minutes ticked by, Damon pulled out his pocket watch, and said, "The opera starts in thirty minutes, so what's it going to be? Lord Edmund Carlisle swinging by his neck in the town square while Lady Elizabeth Sheffield does whatever it takes to make a living, or Prince Rao Singh and Lady Elizabeth Sheffield making a grand entrance at the opera?"

  Elizabeth stared at the building, disgusted with herself for her cowed spirit and lack of will to punish this man for the grief he was causing her. Eliza Shirazi would have marched into that police station and turned him in without batting an eye, just to get the exasperating man out of her life. After all, justice was justice. If he was innocent he'd be exonerated. But Elizabeth Sheffield couldn't seem to bring herself to do it. "I suppose we'll go to the opera," she said, then vowed to scream bloody murder before letting him touch her again,

  Damon kept his hands to himself for the remainder of the ride to the opera house. He did, however, take her hand and place it in the crook of his arm and cover it with a firm palm as they stepped away from the coach. "Smile, Lady Elizabeth," he said as they walked toward the opera house. "All eyes are on you and your magnificent bosom."

  Elizabeth feigned a smile. "No, Your Royal Heinie, I believe
all eyes are on you and your ostentatious get-up."

  Damon dipped his head at the curious faces as they passed. "I think I shall enjoy being married to you, gypsy girl. You make my blood boil and my loins ache."

  Elizabeth acknowledged a woman on the street who reached out to touch her gown, then leaned toward Damon and said in a subdued voice, "You are crude and offensive."

  Damon let out a short laugh as if they'd just shared a private joke, and whispered against her ear, "Only with women who emasculate me by stealing my jewels."

  "I may have stolen your opal, but your other claim is baseless."

  Damon laughed in irony. "I wasn't aware you'd noticed the state of my masculinity."

  "I haven't. You're the talk of London's females, though I could care less what you keep tucked between your royal legs. And I regret that I didn't turn you over to the police when I had the chance so there would be no possibility of marrying you."

  "But you didn't, gypsy girl, and you will marry me. Willingly."

  Once inside, Damon escorted her up the wide, marble stairway to the mezzanine and guided her toward the enclosed private boxes overlooking the stage, then lifted the curtain to one particular box. Elizabeth looked at him with a start. "This is my father's private box. You and my father planned this in advance."

  Damon ushered her into the box. "I leave nothing to chance when I go after something I want, but it works both ways. Your father wants a titled man of wealth for his daughter, and I want his daughter's dowry and gypsy skills to recover my opal. After that, you and I will part company."

  The only words Elizabeth took to heart were the words, you and I will part company. That, she was certain… if she found herself somehow trapped into marriage with Damon.

  Elizabeth settled against the plush velvet-covered seat and folded her hands in her lap, and Damon took his place beside her. Before long the lights dimmed, the stage curtain lifted, and the opera commenced. Although Elizabeth tried to concentrate on the music, the singing, and the drama, as a means of blocking Damon out of her life for the duration of the opera, it was impossible to stay focused, her attention diverted by his breath against her ear as he commented on the performance, or on her rising and falling chest as he commented on her gown.

  He picked up the subject again when the lights came on during intermission. "I appreciate your wearing the gown for my benefit tonight, gypsy girl. I'm captivated by what I see."

  Heat rushed up Elizabeth's face, a combination of anger at his constant reference to her years as a gypsy, a time in her life she desperately wanted to put behind, and her vexation that he assumed she'd worn the low-cut gown for him. "I did not dress for your benefit. The gown was laid out for me in advance, though I believe now there was a conspiracy between you and my father that allowed our attire to coordinate."

  Damon smiled. "You're very astute. I mentioned to your father that I'd enjoy seeing you in a gown the color of sapphire as I was prepared to gift to you a stunning star sapphire ring upon our marriage, and that I also appreciate the current décolleté fashion." He trailed his program across the high swell of her breasts.

  Elizabeth whacked his hand with her fan. "You have no right to do that."

  Damon made a snorting sound. "I had no right to do what I did the night you were dancing, but not only did you let me, you clearly enjoyed it."

  "You caught me by surprise. I wasn't used to having a man paw me. The gentlemen who call on me show me respect and treat me like a lady. They would never be so presumptuous as to do the things you do, which I find crude and offensive."

  "Have you stolen their jewels too, emasculated them so they have no desire to paw any woman? Or is it they just don't know the real Elizabeth Sheffield who can straddle a horse and ride bareback at a dead run, brawl on the ground like a street urchin, use her womanly wiles to have a man lusting after her, then steal his most valued possession. When you wear your provocative gowns do those sexless popinjays even look? I doubt any of them could stir your blood or arouse your passionate nature, much less get under your skirts. No, gypsy girl, those impotent dandies are not for a woman with your passionate nature."

  Refusing to feed fuel to the fire, Elizabeth said, "I'm the one to decide what kind of man is to my liking, and I assure you, I prefer the men you call sexless popinjays to your unwanted advances and unsavory presence." She flipped open her fan and fluttered it at her chest. He would not touch her there again, she vowed, even as the memory of his kisses sent tiny shivers skittering through her.

  The lights dimmed and the opera continued, and Damon made no move to touch her again, which had the odd effect of making Elizabeth uneasy because she had no idea why he'd let her be. She even relaxed a little through the rest of the opera, and before she knew it the crowd burst into applause, the curtain on the final act dropped, and a bank of lights beamed on the lineup of costumed players taking their bows.

  Damon ushered her out of the opera house by lightly holding onto her arm, but once inside the close confines of the carriage he maintained a comfortable distance between them, as he said, "Since you have an aversion to my touch I'll make my offer more acceptable."

  "There's nothing you could possibly add that would so much as tempt me to change my mind," Elizabeth said.

  "Even if the marriage is not consummated?"

  Elizabeth let out a short, sardonic laugh. "I don't for one moment believe you'd marry me and not consummate the marriage. As it is, you take liberties you have no right to take. I can only imagine what you'd take if I were your legal wife, living under your roof. Short of providing me with a body guard there's no way I'd be safe from your unwanted advances."

  "That's because you haven't heard what I propose. The marriage would remain unconsummated for three months. If, during that time you recover my opal, I'll deed Shanti Bhavan to you and the marriage will be annulled. If you don't recover my opal the marriage will still be annulled, but you'll forfeit the right to Shanti Bhavan and return to your father's house. Either way, your father would know nothing about your past, only that you could not adjust to living in India and I was unsatisfactory as a husband. I'd take full responsibility for not being the man you thought you'd married."

  "What if my father paid you for the opal," Elizabeth suggested. "Surely you didn't spend a fortune for it. It was nothing more than a gypsy talisman."

  "It was far more than a talisman," Damon said. "It was the Burning of Troy opal that Napoleon gave to Josephine. It disappeared after Josephine's death and fell into the hands of the gypsies. I intended to use it to bid a pardon from the queen and secure the funds needed to restore Westwendham. I assure you, the price of the opal is beyond even your father's reach."

  Elizabeth stared at him. The idea that she'd taken an opal of such value was almost inconceivable. But it didn't change her predicament. "If I still refuse to marry you, what then?"

  Damon held her unwavering gaze. "All of London will learn that Elizabeth Sheffield once roamed with gypsies, worked as a common servant, had a tryst with her master, stole a priceless opal from him and murdered his gateman." While images of gypsies, and a fiery opal, and a pearl-handled knife in a man's chest, and a past she desperately wanted to relegate to her other lost memories filled her mind's eye, Damon added, "Do you really want all of London to learn about your questionable past, Elizabeth, when what I offer is a chance for you to gain a jute plantation, along with independence from your father and all men, including me?"

  Elizabeth gazed into deep blue eyes that showed the first hint of compassion. "You'd never insist on your rights as a husband?"

  "Not for three months. I want you to have a reason to find my opal. Make no mistake. I don't want the burden of a wife. I never did. Mistresses don't make demands on a man, and they can be replaced if they do. It's as simple as that. You'd have no trouble terminating our marriage after three months, or before, if you recover my opal. Think on it, Elizabeth. It's the best offer you'll get. It's a chance to be a free woman in a man's world, your
only chance, because if you don't accept my offer your father will expect you to marry a man of his choosing, and that man might not be so generous or so tolerant about staying out of your bed."

  Elizabeth sat immobile as distant memories brought to mind a time when a foolish girl allowed Damon to awaken her body to a level of sensuality she'd yearned for since. But that girl was in her past and she had no desire to share a marital bed with the man sitting beside her, or with any man. "Everything you say is all well and good but how am I to keep you out of my bed when I cannot even keep you out of my gown?"

  "I'll give your father my word and our solicitors will include it in a written prenuptial agreement. I'll tell him I want to take you back to India with me, but since you haven't been properly courted our marriage would remain unconsummated for three months. If you felt no affection for me after that time you'd return to him and the marriage would be annulled."

  Elizabeth eyed him with uncertainty. "What about the deed to Shanti Bhavan?"

  "That would be in a separate agreement through my solicitor, a legally binding contract between you and me, without your father's knowledge."

  Elizabeth found herself actually considering Damon's offer. Recovering the opal was a challenge, but not an impossible one. By now Januz and the tribe would have melded into the milieu of India's wandering bands, but she knew their migratory habits, one being their yearly return to Calcutta for the horse fair, and with the aid of gypsy street urchins, she had a good chance of recovering the opal, once she learned who held it for the tribe. But there was still one problem. "I cannot return to India. I'm wanted for murder."

  The look on Damon's face was oddly repentant. "Not anymore. One of my servants saw the stabbing. The man was the gypsy who took the opal from you."

  Elizabeth glared at him. "Why are you just now telling me this?"

  "Because it wasn't relevant. When you arrive in India as my wife you'll be Lady Ravencroft, mistress of Shanti Bhavan. You'll stoop to no one there."

  "Except, of course, to Lord Ravencroft."