Читать книгу From London With Love - Sarah Mallory, Lyn Stone - Страница 14

Eloise looked around the crowded ballroom. The plans were laid: tonight, very publicly, she was to invite Jack Clifton to escort her to Vauxhall. She experienced a sudden spurt of anger towards the unknown letter-writer: if it were not for him it would not be necessary for her to attend another glittering party. Lord Berrow was adamant that he could not sell her Ainsley Wood, so there was no reason for her to remain in London, and with Alex away she would much rather have returned to Allyngham than be walking alone into a crowded ballroom, knowing that nearly every man present would be turning lustful eyes towards her. She shivered: any one of them could be her villain.

‘My dear Lady Allyngham, you are looking charming this evening, quite charming!’ Lord Berrow was at her side, beaming and offering her his arm. ‘And no Mr Mortimer to escort you.’

‘He is gone into Hertfordshire,’ she responded. ‘But I expect him back very soon.’

She tried to smile, but the idea that any one of her acquaintances could have the diary had taken hold of her mind and she could not relax.

‘Excellent, then you must allow me to take his place: can’t have such a pretty little thing unattended.’ He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘I know what you are thinking: Lady Berrow is happily engaged with our hostess for the moment, and I know she will not begrudge me a turn about the room with a pretty woman, eh?’

She felt a tiny flicker of amusement at the Earl’s behaviour. He puffed out his chest and strutted beside her, showing her off to his friends as if she was a prize he had won. However, it was not long before she began to find his rather self-centred conversation quite tedious, and it was with relief that she spotted Major Clifton. He made no effort to approach and at length she excused herself prettily from Lord Berrow, who squeezed her arm and invited her to come back and join him whenever she wished.

Eloise moved off but immediately found her way blocked by a stocky figure in an amethyst-coloured coat and white knee-breeches.

‘Lady Allyngham.’ Sir Ronald Deforge bowed his pomaded, iron-grey curls over her hand. ‘A delightful surprise: I was afraid you had left town.’

She gave him a smooth, practised answer.

‘Why should I wish to do that, when so many friends remain?’

‘But you said, the other night, that you were tired of town life.’

‘Did I?’ She managed a laugh. ‘Let us ascribe that to low spirits, Sir Ronald. I am perfectly happy now, I assure you.’

She walked away, making for the refreshment table, where she observed Major Clifton filling a cup from one of the large silver punch-bowls.

‘You cannot know the happiness it gives me to hear you say that,’ declared Sir Ronald, following her.

Eloise paid him no heed: she was watching Jack as he continued to fill his cup: she was sure he had seen her, but unlike every other gentleman in the room, who would have been at her side at the slightest invitation, he was studiously avoiding her eye. Stifling her irritation, she approached the table. Sir Ronald sprang forwards.

‘Let me help you to a cup of punch, ma’am.’

Jack looked around, as if aware of her presence for the first time.

‘Good evening, Major Clifton.’

‘My lady.’

His slight bow was almost dismissive. Her eyes narrowed.

Deforge handed her a cup. ‘Your punch, Lady Allyngham.’

She thanked him but turned away almost immediately to make it plain she had no further need of his company. As Sir Ronald questioned one of the servants about the ingredients of the punchbowl, she moved a little closer to Jack.

‘A delightful crush tonight, is it not, Major?’ she said, smiling.

‘Delightful.’

His response was polite but hardly encouraging. She reached past him to pick up the ladle and add a little more punch to her cup.

‘Are you avoiding me, sir?’ she asked him quietly. ‘Perhaps you do not wish to continue with our plan?’

A smile tugged at the corners of his mobile mouth.

‘Of course I do,’ he murmured. He took the ladle from her hand, brushing her gloved fingers with his own. ‘Allow me, my lady.’

She carried the refilled cup to her lips, watching him all the time. His smile grew. He turned slightly so that no one else could hear him.

‘Well, madam? You must invite me to go with you to Vauxhall.’

Indignation swelled within her as she noted the wicked glint in his eye: he was enjoying this!

She raised her voice a little. ‘Have you thought any more about Vauxhall, sir? I should very much like to visit the gardens on Tuesday, if you will escort me.’

He seemed to consider the matter.

‘Tuesday…I think I could be free that evening.’

Eloise seethed. Her smile became glacial.

‘If it is too much trouble for you—!’

‘Did you say Vauxhall, my lady?’ Sir Ronald stepped up. ‘I would be more than happy—’

‘Thank you, sir, but having offered to go with Major Clifton, it would be very cruel of me now to deny him.’ She gave Jack a glittering smile. ‘Would it not, Major?’

Her heart missed a beat as he hesitated.

‘It would, of course,’ he said slowly, ‘but if Sir Ronald is willing…’

There could be no mistaking the venomous look that passed between the men. Sir Ronald said coldly, ‘If the major is not able to escort you, madam…’

Jack put up his hand.

‘And yet I do not think that will be necessary. I have not been to Vauxhall for some time, ma’am. It will be amusing to visit the gardens with you.’ His eyes laughed at her. ‘Shall we go by water, or the road?’

‘We will take my carriage, naturally,’ she replied, her calm tone quite at odds with the fury inside her.

‘Naturally,’ he murmured. ‘So much more…intimate.’

Eloise knew her smile did not reach her eyes. She sipped at her punch, determined not to make a hasty retort.

‘Then you will not be requiring my services.’ Sir Ronald’s angry mutter recalled Eloise to her surroundings. She held out her hand to Sir Ronald and gave him a warm smile.

‘Perhaps another time, sir.’

‘Perhaps, my lady.’ He bowed over her hand and walked away.

She and Jack were momentary alone at the table.

‘And what was that little charade about?’ she demanded icily.

‘Just that, a charade.’

‘You made me almost beg you to come with me!’

He laughed.

‘You have the whole of London at your feet: there has to be some reason for the Glorious Allyngham to accept the escort of a mere major. Everyone will think I played my hand very cleverly and piqued your interest.’

She placed her cup back on the table with a little bang.

‘I wish I had turned you down!’

‘What, and accepted Deforge as your escort instead? You would find him a dead bore, I assure you.’

She ground her teeth in frustration.

‘I do not need you! I could write to Alex: he could be back here tomorrow.’

Jack refilled her cup and handed it back to her.

‘But you do not want him to know what you are about: what excuse would you give him, calling him away from his business just to escort you to Vauxhall?’

She eyed him resentfully, hating the fact that he was right. He laughed again.

‘You may as well accept my help with a good grace, my lady. Now drink your punch and we will let the world see that I have fallen under your spell!’

After a solitary dinner on Tuesday night, Eloise went up to her room to prepare for her trip to Vauxhall Gardens. She chose to wear an open robe of spangled gauze over a slip of celestial blue satin. Her cap was a delicate confection of lace, feathers and diamonds that sparkled atop her golden curls. Looking in the mirror, she was pardonably pleased with the result.

‘You look elegant and very stylish,’ she told her reflection, adding, as thoughts of a certain tall, dark soldier entered her mind, ‘and you do not look in the least fast!’

With her domino of midnight-blue velvet thrown over her arm she made her way downstairs to wait for Major Clifton. Minutes later he was shown into the drawing room, attired in a dark blue coat that seemed moulded to his figure, as did the buff-coloured pantaloons that encased his legs and disappeared into a pair of gleaming, tasselled Hessians. She put up her chin a fraction as she was subjected to his swift, hard scrutiny.

‘Well, Major, do I pass muster?’

Her spirits lifted a little when she saw a flicker of admiration in his face: she had seen that look too often to be mistaken.

‘I have never questioned your beauty, my lady.’

‘Only my morals!’ she flashed.

He put up one hand.

‘Shall we call a truce, ma’am? We will need to work together if we are to succeed this evening.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘We have no idea who is writing these letters, but you may be sure that they will be watching you tonight. We must make everyone believe that I am there purely as your escort, to be easily dropped while you slip off to…where is it?’

‘The Druid’s Walk.’

‘Yes, the Druid’s Walk for your assignation.’

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

‘Do you really think you can act the role of a mooncalf, Major?’

He grinned back at her.

‘Oh, I think I can manage that, madam.’ He held out his arm. ‘Shall we go?’

The journey to Vauxhall was accomplished much more quickly than they had anticipated, the traffic over the bridge being very light, and they were soon part of the line of carriages making their way to the gardens. Despite her anxiety, Eloise enjoyed Major Clifton’s company far more than she had anticipated. He said nothing contentious, and treated her with such courtesy and consideration that she soon relaxed.

Jack, too, was surprised. He had heard enough of the Glorious Allyngham to expect her to be a witty and entertaining companion but he was taken off guard by the generous, unaffected nature that shone through her conversation: she was as happy to discuss the government or the plight of the poor as she was Edmund Kean’s latest performance. She had little interest in gossip and confessed that she was happier living quietly at Allyngham than being ogled in the ballrooms of London. Intrigued, Jack regarded her across the dim carriage.

‘This is a very different picture of you, my lady. You are not at all the Wanton Widow you are named.’

‘She does not exist.’

‘That is not what I have heard.’

She shrugged.

‘The ton must gossip about someone. It may as well be me.’

‘And do they not have good reason to talk of you? You have captivated every gentleman in town, and in so doing you have made every lady jealous.’

‘They have no need to be jealous of me: their menfolk may lust after me, they may talk of laying siege to the Glorious Allyngham—you see, Major, I know what is said of me!—but I have no interest in any of them.’

‘If that is so, then why did you come to town?’

‘Oh, for company. For the concerts, and the society.’ She added pointedly, ‘It is possible to enjoy a man’s conversation without wanting to take him for a lover, Major.’ She glanced out of the window. ‘Goodness, we are at the entrance already. How fast time flies when one is talking.’

She turned to smile at him and Jack’s senses reeled. The flames from the blazing torchères illuminated the interior of the carriage, glinting off the lady’s lustrous curls and lighting up her countenance, giving her the appearance of a golden goddess. Desire wrenched at his gut. He wanted to reach out and pull the pins from her hair, to watch those curls tumble down her back in a glorious golden stream. He wanted to take her in his arms and lose himself

‘Major? We must alight: we are holding up the traffic.’

There was a laugh in her soft voice. He snapped out of his reverie and jumped down. Damnation, he must be careful: he was enjoying her company but he had no intention of falling victim to her charms. Jack handed her out of the carriage and waited silently while she adjusted her domino, resisting the temptation to help, knowing if he did so his hands would linger on her shoulders. What was is she had said? It is possible to enjoy a man’s conversation without wanting to take him for a lover. Perhaps that was true: all he knew was that he wanted nothing to mar the easy camaraderie that was growing between them.

‘We have an hour to spare before supper,’ he told her as they walked through the Grove, the sounds of the orchestra drifting through the air towards them. ‘Shall we take a stroll about the gardens?’

‘Yes, if you please. Perhaps we should find the Druid’s Walk, so I know where I am to go later.’

Eloise was happy to accompany Major Clifton through the tree-lined avenues illuminated by thousands of twinkling lamps. At one intersection they spotted Perkins and Jack’s man, Robert, but they exchanged no more than a glance. Until that moment Eloise had been able to forget the purpose of their visit to the gardens. Now the fear came flooding back and she stole anxious glances at each person they passed.

‘It is very unnerving to think that any one of these people might be our villain,’ she muttered.

‘We will know soon enough. Until then let us try to pass the time without worrying. Perhaps you could tell me something of your history.’

She looked up at him, surprised.

‘It is not very interesting. I have done little, and travelled less.’

‘I understand there was some opposition to your marriage to Lord Allyngham?’

‘Strong opposition,’ she told him. ‘My parents died when I was a baby and I was sent to Allyngham to be brought up with the family. Lady Allyngham had no daughter, you see, and she brought me up with the intention that I would be something in the nature of a companion to her.’

‘Did they treat you well?’

‘Yes, very well. Tony and I grew up together—and Alex, of course, who lived on the neighbouring estate. We were all close friends, inseparable until the boys went away to school, and even then we were always together when they came home for the holidays.’

‘If that was the case then the Allynghams might have expected Tony to fall in love with you.’

She sighed. ‘I do not believe the thought occurred to them. He was their second son and it was expected that he would make an advantageous match. It is not surprising that they were mortified when he decided to marry me, a penniless orphan.’

‘That must have been very unpleasant for you.’

‘It was, a little. Oh, they did nothing so very bad; they loved Tony far too much to disinherit him or anything of that nature, but there was always a certain—coolness. It lasted until they died five years ago.’

‘If you had given Allyngham an heir…’

She flinched a little at that.

‘Perhaps that might have helped, but it was not to be.’

He glanced down at her, concerned, and she gave him a strained little smile.

‘You are not to be thinking my life is empty, Major. I have plenty to occupy me, looking after the Allyngham estates.’

‘That must be a heavy burden for you.’

‘Not really, I enjoy it. I took charge initially because Tony was away in the army. He trusted me to look after everything for him and we have an excellent steward, too. And Alex is always there to advise me.’

‘Ah, Mortimer.’ She heard the harsh note creep into his voice. ‘And was he also always there while your husband was away?’

She stopped. Suddenly it was important that she make him understand. She turned towards him, fixing her eyes upon his face.

‘Alex and I are very close, we share many of the same interests, but we have never been more than friends. Tony knew that: it gave him some comfort to know that when he was away we could look after each other.’ Impulsively she put her hands on his chest. ‘I may flirt a little, Major, but I have never played my husband false, and I never intend to do so. I want you to believe that.’

They stared at one another, oblivious of the raucous laughter and exclamations of the crowds around them. Jack’s hand came up and covered her fingers.

‘I do believe it,’ he said slowly. ‘The more I know of you, the more I am intrigued. I think you are more innocent that you would have me believe.’

Eloise stepped back. Warning bells were clamouring in her head: he was far too close to the truth! She gave a little laugh.

‘Do not put me on a pedestal, Major, I pray you.’ She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘Shall we find our supper box now?’

However, when they were seated in their box, Eloise gave Jack a smiling apology.

‘I am afraid my appetite has quite deserted me. We are so exposed here, with all the world and his wife walking by.’

‘Then let us give them a performance,’ murmured Jack, bringing his chair a little closer. ‘You need to eat, so I shall feed you titbits.’

‘No, I should not—’

He speared a tiny piece of the wafer-thin ham with his fork and held it out to her.

‘Yes, you should.’

‘But everyone is watching!’

‘Exactly. If our man is out there he will be reassured. And as for the rest, well, they will think I am the luckiest dog alive!’

Looking into his smiling eyes, Eloise capitulated. She opened her lips to take the proffered morsel. It was delicious, which seemed to heighten the decadence of the action, and she did not protest when Jack offered her another. She felt he was tempting her with so much more than a mouthful of food. Eloise put down her wine cup. The arrack punch was very strong and it was already making her senses swim.

‘You are flirting with me, Major.’

‘Very much so. And if I bring my head closer to yours while I pour the wine…’

‘No more for me, thank you! I need to keep a clear head for later. Do you really think we are being watched?’

‘I do. We must show him that I am truly enamoured of you.’

‘Oh, how?’

He took her hand.

‘Like this.’

Her toes tingled with excitement when she saw the wicked gleam in his eye. She watched as he slowly pulled off her glove, holding her hand like a delicate piece of porcelain. Gently he turned it over and lowered his head to press a kiss on the inside of her wrist. She gasped. He continued to drop kisses on the soft skin of her arm. Little arrows of fire were shooting through her; it was all she could do to keep still.

‘I—um—I think we should stop now.’

He ran the tip of his tongue lightly across the hinge of her elbow. Unspeakably pleasurable sensations curled around inside her, so intense she was afraid she might slide off her chair. She gazed at his head as he bent over her: she wanted to reach out and caress the raven’s gloss of his hair. She clenched her free hand to prevent herself from trying such a thing.

‘Major. Jack!’ She hissed his name, almost squirming now under his touch. ‘People are staring.’

He raised his head, fixing her with a devilish grin.

‘That is exactly what we want,’ he murmured. ‘It is almost time for you to keep your appointment in Druid’s Walk.’

Immediately the pleasant lassitude she had been feeling disappeared. She swallowed nervously.

‘It is?’

He nodded, slipping one arm around her waist.

‘So I am going to try to kiss you, then you will slap my face and leave me. Can you do that?’

Swallowing again, she nodded. Smiling, Jack gently pulled her into his arms. It was like coming home. Eloise gazed up into his eyes, black and fathomless as night. His face was only inches from her own. Her lips parted instinctively, her eyelids drooped. She ached for him to kiss her but his mouth remained tantalizingly just out of reach.

‘Now you have to slap me.’ Jack’s voice was no more than a croak. He said curtly, ‘Do it!’

Eloise dragged her wandering thoughts back. She knew what was expected of her. Pulling herself out of his grasp, she slapped him with her bare hand. Then, snatching up her glove and her domino, she marched off.

The gardens were much more frightening for an unescorted lady. Eloise pulled the hood of her domino over her head and hurried along the paths, trying to ignore the rowdy laughter coming from the darker walks. She kept her head down. Someone knocked her shoulder.

‘I beg yer pardon, lady.’

She heard Perkins’s familiar voice and felt a rush of gratitude, glancing up in time to see him tugging at his forelock before he turned and sauntered away. It was reassuring to know she was not quite alone.

She had memorised the instructions. The second arbour off Druid’s Walk. Now as she turned into the famous avenue she began to worry. What if someone was already there? What if the writer wanted to harm her? She shook her head and tried to think rationally. If her tormentor had the journal then most likely he would want some extortionate payment. She would pay it, too, if it was the only way to get the book back.

She reached the second arbour and slowed down. Cautiously she approached the dark space. A canopy of leaves blotted out almost all the light, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see an empty bench at the back of the enclosure. Her heart beating, she walked to the bench and sat down to wait. Almost immediately a voice sounded to her right.

‘You keep good time, madam. I congratulate you.’

Eloise jumped up. A black shape detached itself from the shadows. It was a man, wrapped in a dull black cloak and hat, his face hidden beneath a black mask. As he moved forwards the light glittered eerily on the eyes peering through the slits in his mask. She cleared her throat.

‘What do you want of me?’

He held out his hand and she saw the grey oblong held between his fingers. It was too dark to read it but she knew from its shape and size that it was another page from the diary. As her hand reached out he snatched it back.

‘How much?’

He laughed.

‘You are very sensible, ma’am. No tears, no hysterics.’

‘Would they do me any good?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Then I will ask you again, how much?’

‘This page I will give you in exchange for a kiss.’

‘And the rest of the book?’

She heard him chuckle. It sent a shiver of revulsion running through her.

‘That depends upon the kiss.’

He reached out and pulled her to him, pressing his lips hard against her mouth. She froze, fighting against an impulse to push him away.

When he let her go she gasped and instinctively dragged the back of her hand across her mouth.

‘Who are you?’

‘You will discover soon enough. Here.’ He held out the grey oblong. ‘Take it. I shall let you know the price for the rest.’

She twitched the paper from his fingers.

‘How…how did you come by the book?’

‘You do not need to know that.’

She put up her chin.

‘It could be a forgery.’

He laughed softly in the darkness.

‘And would you have left me a hundred guineas on Hampstead Heath if it had not been genuine?’

She bit her lip, regretting that first, rash action. She said, coldly, ‘What if I refuse to continue with this?’

‘But you won’t.’ His voice was low, just above a whisper, and it sent unpleasant shivers through her. ‘Neither will you leave town. Do you think if you bury yourself in the country you can escape the scandal? You know that is not true.’

She put up her head.

‘If you publish I shall go abroad—’

‘And what of the Allyngham name? Such an illustrious history—are you content to see it tainted?’

Eloise peered into the darkness. It was impossible to tell much about her tormentor: the hat and cloak concealed his body as effectively as he had disguised his voice.

‘What is it you want from me?’

‘You will continue with your engagements. I understand a party will be going to Renwick Hall at the end of the month. You will be invited.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Mrs Renwick likes you. I have heard her say she would like you to be there.’

She turned away, shaking her head.

‘No. I have had enough of your games—’

‘If I publish that book your name will be disgraced.’

‘Allyngham is dead,’ she said dully. ‘It will make no odds.’

‘But others are very much alive, and they will suffer, will they not? Are you willing to risk their disgrace, perhaps even to risk their lives, Lady Allyngham?’

She stopped. He was right, of course. Slowly she turned back.

‘How much do you want?’ she asked again.

‘I shall let you know that in due course. For now you will continue to adorn the London salons and ballrooms while you await my instructions.’

He stepped back into the shadows. There was a rustle of leaves, then silence. She could see nothing. She put her hands out and stepped towards the back of the arbour. Branches and leaves met her fingers; there was no sign of the cloaked man. Eloise backed away. As she moved closer to the main path she held up the paper, still clutched in her fingers. Even in the dim light she recognised the writing. It was another page from that damning journal. Turning the page to catch the best of the light spilling in from the walk, she read it quickly then, with a sob and a shudder, she turned and ran out on to the path.