Regency High Society Vol 7: A Reputable Rake / The Heart's Wager / The Venetian's Mistress / The Gambler's Heart. Diane GastonЧитать онлайн книгу.
in a white gauzy gown decorated with red ribbon. Her cousin wore a much plainer gown, one done up in gold fabric that nearly matched her eyes and glistened under the candlelight.
Averting his head so as not to be so obviously gaping, Sloane observed Lord and Lady Cowdlin stop to converse with friends. Lady Hannah seized her cousin’s arm and propelled them both forward. Hannah glanced in Sloane’s direction, pretended to glance away, whispered something to her cousin, and led her gracefully across the room, making it appear as if it were mere chance that they came to where he stood.
‘Good evening, Lady Hannah, Miss Hart.’ He bowed.
‘How nice to see you here, Mr Sloane.’ Lady Hannah smiled up at him, showing her white, even teeth. ‘You must sit with us. I insist upon it.’
Miss Hart also smiled, but her smile seemed distant, almost sad.
He turned his attention to Lady Hannah. ‘Nothing would delight me more, my lady, but it might hint at partiality. I would not wish to make you the topic of gossip.’ If Sloane were perceived to favour Lady Hannah to the exclusion of other eligible young ladies, he would be forced to make her an offer. He did not wish to be forced into anything.
A fleeting look of disappointment crossed Lady Hannah’s face. She quickly recovered. ‘I have it. You shall sit next to Morgana and that will seem quite unexceptionable.’
He opened his mouth to reply, but her attention had already flitted away.
‘Oh, look,’ she cried. ‘Here comes your nephew, Mr Sloane. Perhaps he will join us as well.’
When the programme was about to begin, Hannah hurried them all in, and arranged the seating to her satisfaction. At one end sat Lord and Lady Cowdlin, then David, Hannah, Morgana, and Sloane. David made polite conversation with Lady Cowdlin, while Hannah looked about the crowd, waving to friends. Miss Hart studied her programme.
‘Do you enjoy music, Miss Hart?’ Sloane asked her.
She gave him a serious expression. ‘You must not consider yourself obliged to make polite conversation, Mr Sloane.’
His brow furrowed. ‘Are we back to not speaking, Miss Hart?’
Her face relaxed. ‘Oh, no. I did not mean that. Goodness! I must have sounded cross. I am vexed at my cousin, not you. She treats me as if I were a doll to be moved about at whim.’
His lips twitched. He leaned closer to her. ‘Confess, Miss Hart. You merely dislike being told what to do.’
She smiled. ‘You have the right of it, Mr Sloane. It is one of my abiding faults.’
‘Mine as well,’ he admitted. ‘Let us begin again. Do you like music, Miss Hart?’
Her ginger eyes came alive with expression. ‘I do like it excessively, sir.’
‘Do you play?’
She rolled her eyes, very unladylike, but charming none the less. ‘Badly, therefore, never in company, but I do love to bash away for hours on my pianoforte.’
‘Hmm.’ He pretended to study the programme. ‘I wonder how thick the walls are between our houses.’
She laughed softly. When he glanced at her again her eyes sparkled. ‘And you, Mr Sloane, do you play?’
He could not help himself. He gave her a wicked grin. ‘Not music, Miss Hart, but I play at other things very well.’
He watched, fascinated, as her pupils grew larger. Her smile changed from mirthful to inscrutable. Perhaps he’d gone too far. Reverted to his rakish ways. But she did have that effect on him. He averted his gaze.
Morgana looked away as well, resisting the impulse to fan herself. Had he been flirting with her? If so, it felt delightful. Very stimulating. She hoped her cheeks were not as flaming red as they felt.
She was glad Sloane did not dislike sitting next to her, though she still had no doubt he would rather be next to Hannah. Hannah had her head together with the younger Mr Sloane, who was obviously as captivated by her as his uncle.
It did not matter, Morgana assured herself, that Hannah drew the attention of men so easily. She was glad someone distracted Hannah from her chief prey. Morgana needed this opportunity to speak to Sloane. She opened her mouth again, but there was a signal that the music was about to begin.
Lady Sedford had achieved the coup of engaging Camporese for the evening. When the soprano stepped out in front of the musicians, she looked much taller and more slender than she’d appeared on stage at the King’s Theatre, perhaps even as tall as Morgana herself.
Camporese reprised her solos from Penelope, to much applause. Morgana noticed that Hannah attended more to the guests than the music. Her uncle, quite the opposite, dozed, his chin drooping to his chest. Morgana smiled at that and glanced at Sloane, who caught her look and held it a moment before turning his eyes back to the soprano. The contact had been fleeting, but it somehow warmed Morgana all over. She did fan herself this time.
When Camporese finished her part of the programme, the room erupted into applause and shouts of ‘Bravo’ and the soprano gave a deep curtsy. Lady Sedford announced a brief interval and everyone left their seats to mingle. Morgana watched Sloane converse with Hannah and his nephew.
A gentleman and lady approached her. Morgana recognised them as Sloane’s brother and sister-in-law, Lord and Lady Rawley. Her aunt presented her to them.
Lady Rawley gave her an inquisitive look. ‘I see you are acquainted with Cyprian, Miss Hart.’
Remembering that Sloane was estranged from his family, Morgana regarded the woman with some interest. ‘I am, ma’am.’
‘What do you know of him, my dear?’ Lady Rawley’s question was phrased in ominous tones.
Morgana immediately leapt to Sloane’s defence, though the notion he would need her protection was ludicrous. ‘He is often in the company of my aunt’s family. He is acceptable to them, and that is all I need know.’
Lady Rawley leaned in closer. ‘My husband says there is more to it, Miss Hart. Cyprian has the most shocking reputation. I implore you to beware of it and inform your cousin before she makes a terrible mistake.’
Morgana’s indignation caught fire. How dare this woman presume to spread tales of Sloane to someone she had met not one minute before? She would not stand for it!
She favoured Lady Rawley with her most innocent look. ‘I fear Lady Hannah will demand the details before giving any credence to my words. Would you please tell me exactly what Mr Sloane had done to earn his shocking reputation?’
‘Why… why he is a womaniser, for one thing,’ the lady responded.
‘Indeed?’ Morgana feigned interest. ‘With whom has he been linked? I am sure my cousin will wish to hear names.’
‘I do not precisely know,’ admitted Lady Rawley. ‘But I have it on good authority—’
‘Oh, Hannah will not credit that at all, I’m afraid.’ Morgana feigned being thoughtful. ‘But I suspect there are many gentlemen who claim success with the ladies. That would not be enough to concern Hannah. What else has Mr Sloane done?’
‘I do not know, but it was very bad,’ Lady Rawley said with spirit. ‘Something during the war, I think.’
Morgana pretended to consider this. ‘I believe I must inform my uncle of this shocking information. He is responsible for Hannah, you know.’
‘I am sure your uncle knows,’ admitted the lady. ‘Everyone knows.’
Morgana smiled. ‘Then it must be a mere hum, because Mr Sloane is invited everywhere. He even has vouchers for Almack’s.’ She acted as if she were just struck by a thought. ‘I suppose I could alert Lady Sefton or Lady Castlereagh. I shall tell them you have informed me.’
Lady Rawley paled. ‘No,