Those Scandalous Ravenhursts Volume 3. Louise AllenЧитать онлайн книгу.
not breaking her promise to Papa not to go behind the scenes at night and she was somewhere private where they could dine with discretion.
And still the men hurried in and out, now with flowers, wine bucket on a stand, bottles, candles… And were as suddenly gone. Now what? Where was the food going to come from?
The door opened and there was Eden, regarding her in the soft glow of the dimmed lamps and the flicker of the candlelight. He was still in his dramatic black evening clothes with the theatrical ruffles and the watery glint of diamonds at ear and throat. Maude realised, with a sickening jolt in her stomach, just how nervous she was and then, just how happy she was also. The laugh escaped as a half-suppressed gurgle and he smiled, and everything was all right.
‘What amuses you?’
‘You really should have a drum roll to announce you, you look so dramatic in that costume.’
‘And you look—’ He broke off, frowning, then came fully into the box and closed the door behind him. ‘You look quite lovely.’
‘Why, thank you, sir.’ He held the chair for her and she sat, studying him candidly as he took the place opposite. ‘This is a very clever solution to the problem of where to dine.’
‘I enjoy problems.’ He seemed content to sit and watch her, his long fingers interlaced on the white table cloth, his relaxed body elegant in the dark clothes.
‘But I was wondering where the food was going to come from.’
‘You are hungry? You have not already eaten one supper so you may pick daintily at what I provide?’ he enquired, mock-serious.
‘No, I have not. Do not tease me, Eden, I am positively ravenous. You have no idea what an effect nerves have on my appetite. I know they should put me off my food, but I seem to react quite differently. If I am subjected to much more stress, I will end up as round as Prinny.’
Eden smiled and shook his head at her exaggeration. ‘Are you nervous, Maude?’ He seemed not displeased that she should be, which puzzled her for a moment until she realised that he saw it as a purely feminine response to being alone with him. And that, she thought, aroused and flattered him. Not that there were any overt clues to that. It was more something she sensed, something just glimpsed in the dark intensity of his eyes as he watched her, the deep purr of his voice.
‘Of course,’ she said lightly, smiling to hide the effect the thought of his arousal had on her. ‘It was not easy to arrange to be here like this.’
‘You may relax now, then, and eat. My cook is ferrying an entire dinner from my house and, provided there has been no accident to the carriage, we may expect it at any moment.’
‘Eden, that is—ridiculous! You cannot expect the poor man to cook dinner and then deliver it hot and in one piece after driving halfway across London.’
‘How do you know where I live?’ He seemed interested.
‘A figure of speech,’ Maude said repressively. She knew exactly where he lived, had caused her carriage to be driven past his home, now and again, but she was certainly not going to admit it to him.
‘And the poor man is highly paid to produce my dinner when and where I want it, so you may save your sympathy. Ah, here we are.’
The door opened to admit two footmen bearing a tureen, small dishes and a basket of rolls, which they deposited and bowed themselves out.
Eden lifted the lid of the tureen. ‘See? Steaming. All done with hay boxes.’
Maude sipped and exclaimed, ‘This is delicious!’
‘I am glad it meets with your approval. Maude, may I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’ She put down her spoon, happy with any excuse for looking openly at him, and found his eyes dark and thoughtful on her face.
‘You are very frank with me. You let me into the secret of young ladies’ lack of appetite, you share your opinions about matters that I know full well we should not be discussing. Are you as frank with any man?’
'I am not sure I quite understand.’ Maude’s heart sank. He thought her unattractively fast? She had thought him amused, if anything, by her unconventional attitude. But perhaps he merely found her eccentric.
‘I have heard that ladies are extremely indiscreet with their hairdressers. Are you simply refreshingly free from silly notions about what is proper, or do you regard me in the light of your hairdresser?’ He is smiling, thank goodness. In fact, he is teasing me…
‘I can assure you, Eden, I most certainly do not regard you in the same light as Monsieur Maurice, as I hope you would realise if you ever met him. Unless…’ she frowned thoughtfully at the crow-black wing of hair he was pushing back from his forehead ‘…unless you too wear a toupee?’ His snort of laughter answered that. ‘When I am with young men at balls and dinners I act as they expect, because they do not have the flexibility of mind to cope with anything else.’
‘And I do?’
‘I hope so.’ She added more seriously, ‘I hope you realise that I am not dining with you alone like this because it seems amusing to be scandalous, or because I am fast and would do so with any man who asked me. It is simply that, with you, I find I can be myself.’
Another man would have been taken aback by that comment, or teased her. Eden merely looked thoughtful. ‘Why is that, do you think?’ he asked, the piece of bread in his fingers crumbling, uneaten, as he studied her face.
‘Because I enjoy your company and I feel quite safe with you.’ And I wish I did not…
‘Despite the fact I kissed you the way I did, nearly took you in the corridor on our first encounter?’ he asked outright, almost making her choke on the spoonful of soup she had just lifted to her lips. And the reminiscent gleam in his eyes made her reconsider exactly how safe she felt.
‘It was an error,’ Maude managed to say calmly. ‘And if I had been someone you intended to kiss for the usual reasons…’ his lips twitched at her choice of phrase, but she pushed on, managing not to stare at them ‘…I imagine matters would have concluded in your office and not in the corridor. That was most excellent soup.’ She had not seen the little bell until Eden lifted it and rang. The footmen came in, cleared and replaced the tureen with more dishes.
‘Lobster, a fricassee of chicken, various vegetables. May I serve you?’ Maude nodded and waited while the plates were filled and white wine was poured. ‘So, you like my flexible mind, you admire my chef’s cooking, you covet my theatre and you are able to disregard my reputation. Is that all that brings you here?’
‘Are you fishing for compliments, Eden?’ Maude enquired, lingering a moment to savour the meltingly tender chicken. ‘You are also aware that you are considered a very handsome man. Perhaps that is why I am here.’
‘Thank you.’ He smiled as she shook her head reprovingly at him for assuming it was her opinion also. ‘I have looks that appear to strike some women as attractive. For which I must thank my father—it is hardly an attribute for which I can claim any merit. But you, I think, are not looking for something so superficial, or a trophy to shock your friends.’
‘Exactly. So you are quite safe,’ Maude said prosaically. ‘We may discuss matters of mutual interest and you need not worry that I am about to fling myself into your arms or tear off my clothing.’
‘I am sure I ought to say that is a relief,’ Eden said, cutting into his lobster. ‘But you must be aware that any man who is conscious and under the age of ninety would wish to find you in his arms, so you must give me full credit for my restrained behaviour.’