From London With Love. Sarah MalloryЧитать онлайн книгу.
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,