~ The Challenge ~

by

Janet Cooper

One

London, England, 1786

Jonathan Drew--here? Katherine Randolph could not believe her eyes. On occasion, she had caught glimpses of him at the theater, but his companion was always a married woman or else a widow. He never came to debutante balls. Why had he come tonight?

Glancing her way, he nodded. Even this small gesture sent her pulse racing. When he walked in her direction, her heart pounded wildly in her chest. The pale blue coat with the new style of longer tails emphasized his shapely legs. Without being obvious, she looked from side to side trying to decide who would be the lucky woman to join him on the dance floor.

He shocked her down to the thin soles of her green silk slippers when he stopped in front of her and bowed.

"Miss Randolph, might I request a dance or two before your card fills?"

His smile loosened the tremors in her stomach. Now, they floated to her throat. Before she could recover, he had written his name in two different locations on her dance card.

"Until later?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

Why had his appearance made her mute? Why had she stood there like a girl still in the nursery, allowing him to sign his name on her card--twice, then let him leave without muttering a sound? Why did this man, who she had seen seldom in the last ten years, affect her so? She had no answer to these questions or at least none that she wished to acknowledge.

Until her first dance with Jonathan Drew, the clock must have broken, for the minutes became hours. She had kept him in view as he partnered a variety of ladies--the color of his coat and his six-foot height made tracking him easier. He had followed his normal pattern, dancing only with married women. Once more, Katherine wondered why he had chosen her. When he at last drew near, she forced down her nervousness and pasted a smile on her face.

"Our dance, Miss Randolph." He held his gloved hand out to her.

Once he stepped up to her, time flew, but unfortunately her disquiet returned in full measure. She, who loved to dance, found the steps difficult to follow. Then, the toe of her pump caught in the hem of her long ball gown and she slipped. Jonathan tightened his grip on her arm, held her aright, and led her through the intricate steps of the dance.

Grateful for his quick reaction, Katherine smiled her thanks. Although his face betrayed no change, his eyes twinkled in response.

As she moved from his left side to his right, his powdered queue flicked slightly across her bare shoulder--almost caressing her. The touch of his clean smelling hair sent a river of sensations running up her spine and goose bumps streaming down her arms.

An amused expression crossed his well-favored lips as though he understood her reaction. His look made her feel like a schoolgirl at her first ball, instead of a woman of two and twenty.

While sliding to her next partner, her feet scarcely touched the floor, for the enjoyment she had shared with Jonathan lingered. Engrossed with the memory of him, Katherine barely conversed with her other dancing partners, nor could she recall what they said to her. Instead, her eyes sought the man in the pale blue coat.

When she moved again to Jonathan’s side, he held out his arm. Katherine glided eagerly into his embrace. "Have you recovered, Miss Randolph?" He squeezed her hand and winked flirtatiously.

An unbidden surge of color rose to her face. His comment made her feel shy and naive, an emotion she seldom experienced. Instead of answering, she focused her attention on the figures of the dance.

"No quick retort?" he teased. "James insists your tongue is often two-edged. Even my mild-manner brother has been wounded by your comments." Jonathan’s tone bantered with her.

Determined to control her foolish emotions, she said, "I had no idea you and your brother discussed me." Despite her earlier resolve, when she looked into his eyes, her heart raced.

"Brothers discuss many things, Miss Randolph, including well-favored ladies."

The dance concluded much too soon for Katherine as his words intrigued her. After escorting her to the side, he executed an exquisite bow and lightly kissed her hand.

Although a glove shielded her, the warmth of his mouth penetrated to the skin beneath. And while most men’s lips never even touch the glove, his dared to make contact. Turmoil raced within her whole being. Her confusion, again, blanked out a proper repartee. Twice now, he had teased her. Each time she had behaved like an inexperienced, missy young woman, a very new experience for Katherine Randolph. She usually had the last word and, often as not, a biting one. With Jonathan Drew, she scarcely spoke.

"Would you care for a breath of fresh air, Miss Randolph?" Jonathan asked, as he escorted her from the ballroom floor.

She considered refusing. A few moments away from Jonathan Drew would probably restore her equilibrium, however her adventurous spirit finally surfaced. "Why, thank you, Mr. Drew. I believe I would enjoy a stroll outside." As his hand cupped her elbow, waves of pleasure flowed through her. Since she was twelve, she had dreamed of being alone again with this man. Would the reality measure up to her dreams?

He led her through the crowd toward the French doors that opened onto the terrace of the Peacocks’ London townhouse. Before they reached their goal, a male voice called.

"Katherine, Jonathan, over here." The Honorable Theodore Emerson gestured to them. "We are discussing you, so you should hear what we’re saying."

The couple glanced at one another.

"Shall we, Miss Randolph?"

She shrugged, "I suppose."

A tinge of apprehension crept over her as they joined the small group standing near the unlit fireplace. "Why are we the subject of your conversation, Theodore?" Katherine asked. Being the object of anyone’s tête-à-tête never pleased her, and if Theodore Emerson was involved, this was doubly so. A notorious gossip, he often created rumors where none before existed.

"We were talking about how you and Jonathan handle the ribbons," said Annette Peacock, interrupting in her breathless manner. "I insisted you would win if pitted against Jonathan. Although you drive too fast for me, you’re a whip of the first water." She glanced at Theodore, before looking back at Katherine. "Of course, I told Theo such a race would be impossible." Her face pouted, and she shrugged her creamy-white shoulders. "Such a pity."

Her actions caught the attention of all the males present. However, Katherine noticed Annette’s coy moves appeared to make little impression upon Jonathan Drew.

She and Annette had been friends since childhood, but the two girls differed in many ways. Katherine charged into any activity, while Annette watched. Katherine fought the restraints the world of 1786 placed on women, yet she had never before had an opportunity to defy them in a public way. "Why can’t I race?"

The entire crowd stared at her. She remained resolute, confident she had struck a blow for her beliefs and for those of other women.

Choking on her lemonade and spilling several drops on her gown, Annette sputtered, "Katherine! Think of the scandal you will cause." Disregarding the spots forming on the bodice of her rose satin ball gown, she kept her attention focused on her friend. "At times, you act havey-cavey, but this is too much even for you." Annette raised her face to the ceiling as if seeking guidance.

Their raised voices attracted a larger crowd. Soon people surrounded the original group.

"Game you may be, Katherine Randolph, but unmarried ladies of the ton do not race," Theodore Emerson said in an unnecessarily loud voice. His words pretended concern, but his tone of voice revealed the pleasure Katherine’s announcement gave him.

His statement increased the flame of resentment that had been building in Katherine for years. She sent Theodore a look that would have created a frost on a fine summer’s day. With difficulty, she controlled the anger threatening to bubble forth. Instead, she raised her left eyebrow and said, "Oh?"

In an undertone, audible only to the two of them, Jonathan asked, "You desire this?" An unreadable mask covered his face.

Sensing that her acceptance shocked him, she almost reneged. Deep inside, she wanted to please him. She had enjoyed the pleasurable ripples his nearness created. However, once she had the bit in her mouth, she seldom let go. Casting aside any remaining reserve and wanting to prove she was as capable as he was, she faced him. "Fearful of losing to a woman?" She ran her fingers up and down the stays of her lace fan, hoping to conceal the uneasiness developing within.

"I?" he grinned. "I never lose at anything, especially if a woman is involved." His emerald eyes beamed with mischief. "Shall we give a prize to the winner?"

His look caressed her as surely as if his hands touched her. She must break the spell he wove. Struggling against her internal disquiet, she said, "Absolutely."

Staring at her lips, he said, "Name the prize."

She tossed her head and squelched the desire building. "Let the winner decide." From the corner of her eye, she saw her answer amused him. The thought infuriated her.

"An excellent suggestion, sweet Katherine. I shall think well on what reward to ask of you." He bowed.

Katherine had felt someone pulling on her sleeve, but involved with her discussion, she had ignored the tugs. Finally, she whipped around. Seeing Annette standing with her hand on her gown, Katherine snapped, "What is the matter?"

Annette’s face turned a rare shade of pink at the sharp tone. Immediately, Katherine apologized, but her friend shook her head as if to say, it did not matter. "I’m responsible for starting this. Please, Katherine, do not race. Your parents will be horrified. And, Theodore is right, society will never approve."

In a quiet tone, Katherine said, "All my life, I have been told what to do and what not to do. As for my parents, my father will support me. As for society--society be damned."

Although she had planned for only Annette to hear, she noticed a small smile on Jonathan’s lips when she had stated, ‘society be damned.’ Aloud, she announced, "I shall race."