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“So I've been told,” he drawled. His crimson doublet was in vivid contrast to his dark good looks. White teeth flashed in his swarthy, arrogant face.
As they bantered with each other, it finally dawned on Bess how extremely attractive he was. Talbot was a true aristocrat from an ancient, noble family, and it was evident in every line of his visage and figure. He appeared arrogant because he carried himself with a natural pride.
“I am delighted that Her Majesty chose you as one of her ladies-of-the-bedchamber. Elizabeth's Court will be unsurpassed if she surrounds herself with ladies of beauty and wit.”
Bess realized he was a polished courtier of thirty, far more charming and subtle than he had been as a youth. Yet he was still dark, dominant, and dangerous, a powerful combination that Bess realized was almost irresistible. “And should the gentlemen of the Court be witty or witless, my lord?”
Talbot laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “I assure you there will be no shortage of either kind of gentleman.” His compelling gaze held hers. “Her Majesty is shrewd enough to surround herself with those who have proved their loyalty, as you have, Lady Cavendish.”
As the music changed, Bess suddenly realized she was in the middle of the dance floor. When she made a move to leave, his hold tightened and she could not easily escape him. “I shouldn't be dancing, my lord, I'm in mourning.”
“Costumed as a nymph of the sea, your siren song is irresistible. You've been widowed more than a year, Bess. Your mourning period is over.”
“I'm not referring to the prescribed mourning period of a year. I'm talking about what is in my heart!”
He stared down at her with disbelief. Her aging husband had brought financial disaster upon her. “Cavendish was twenty years older than you. I always assumed you married him—”
“For his money?” She was suddenly furious. “Then the laugh was on me, wasn't it, milord devil?”
“That isn't what I meant at all. I humbly apologize, Bess. We have known each other so long, I spoke out of turn. Forgive me, I had no idea it was a love match.”
“You've never been humble in your life,” she flared. “Nor do you know what it's like to be in need.”
“That's where you are entirely wrong, Vixen.” My hunger for you is ravenous, he thought silently, hoping to mask the need that threatened to consume him.
Bess wondered if she had mistaken his meaning, but she was so angry she wanted to slap his face. When she realized what she had almost been goaded into doing in the middle of the dance floor, her temper flamed even higher. Suddenly her whole body was roiling with emotion. Her heart was pounding and every pulse was racing madly. Bess felt alive for the first time in fourteen months!
A cold wave of fear washed over her. Lord Talbot was so sexually attractive, she was responding to him against her will. “Peste take you, Talbot!” Bess turned and fled the Presence Chamber. She slowed as she reached the Great Hall, for out here the crowds were shoulder to shoulder. At the door she encountered Sir William St. Loe speaking with the guards he had posted.
“Lady Cavendish, may I join you?” he asked politely.
Bess took his arm as if he were her refuge. “Syntlo.” She murmured the name the queen gave him. “I've been looking for you,” she lied prettily.
