Kitabı oku: «Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1», sayfa 15

‘Don’t give it another thought. Tell you what, come to the prizefight in Bedford with me next week—we’ll make up a party, what do you say?’ There was relief and suppressed triumph in the affected voice and Tallie bit the inside of her lip in an effort to keep focused on Lady Mornington while watching Kate Parry out of the corner of her eye.

Lady Parry, who was dressed in an unusual shade of deep salmon to ensure she was visible, shifted her position and Tallie saw her nod. William must have glimpsed his mother through the palms and seen her signal, for his voice became a little louder and Tallie, hearing her cue, dropped her fan and dance card. With a murmur of apology she fell to her knees and began to hunt round under her chair, cutting off Lady Mornington in mid-sentence.

‘That’s a damn nice new curricle you’ve got, Jack,’ she heard William say enthusiastically. ‘More benefits of that post-obit loan you took out on your Aunt Mornington? Or has the old lady coughed up some more of the readies, seeing what a handsome portrait you commissioned of her?’

Tallie glanced up. Lady Mornington had frozen where she sat, her eyes riveted on the screen of palms. ‘Wish I had your knack of turning old ladies up sweet,’ William persisted loudly. ‘What’s the trick to it?’

Go on, Tallie willed Jack Hemsley. Go on, boast about how clever you are.

Chapter Nineteen

Jack Hemsley did not disappoint Tallie.

‘Trick, old chap? Nothing to it. Old trouts like her will lap up any amount of honey, you can’t pour too much on, trust me. Flatter her dreadful hats, take her driving in the park so she can wave to her ghastly friends, pet her God-awful pugs—they’ve all got something like that, if it isn’t pugs it’s a parrot—you can’t fail. A bit of sharp work with the other relatives to put them out of favour and there you are—favourite nephew and all the dibs in tune.’

Lady Mornington surged to her feet. ‘Excuse me, my dear,’ she said with awful calm to Tallie, who was still crouched by her chair making a business out of picking up her fan. A terrible figure in puce, she stepped round the screen of palms. Kate pulled Tallie upright and the two of them followed apprehensively after her.

The scene that greeted them might have been a tableau from a melodrama. Lady Mornington, bosom visibly quivering with indignation, confronted her white-faced nephew who was pinned between his outraged relative, William—who was inconsiderately Standing fast at his back—and an interested crowd of onlookers who, realising something was afoot, had turned to watch. Prominent amongst them was Nick and the man he had been talking to: the Honourable Ferdie Marsh, the worst gossip in London Society.

‘Despicable boy!’ Lady Mornington hissed, the plumes on her coiffure shaking. ‘Lying, toadying, deceitful wretch! This is how you repay my kindness, this is how you serve your cousins, poisoning my mind against them! I shall change my will tomorrow morning, not one penny shall you get from me. In fact …’ her eyes narrowed, regarding his pinched and furious face ‘… in fact, I will not risk leaving it to tomorrow. The Lord Chief Justice is here tonight—I am sure he will be only too pleased to draw up a codicil for me here and now.’

She swept round, magnificent in her fury, and her eyes fell on Tallie. ‘And you, dear child, can help me find him. Are you acquainted with his lordship? Tall man, always looks different without his wig, I find …’ She swept Tallie off without a backward glance. ‘You shall have one of Esmeralda’s puppies from the new litter. You are a good child and I am sure will look after it excellently well.’

‘Tha-thank you, ma’am,’ Tallie faltered, taken aback by this powerful self-control. ‘Ma’am … I am so very sorry about what just …’ She did not know whether to feel guilty or not. It was horrible for Lady Mornington to have Hemsley’s character exposed before an audience, but perhaps it was much worse that she should be estranged from her honest relatives because of the greed of one unpleasant nephew.

Lady Mornington gave her a sharp look. ‘I have been a foolish old woman,’ she said briskly. ‘Serves me right. His father, my younger brother, was just the same—should have realised the bloodline would breed true.’

‘Is that the Lord Chief Justice over there, ma’am?’ Tallie asked hastily.

‘Indeed it is, you have sharp eyes. Now, off you go, back to Kate Parry and have a good time, child. I,’ she added with a note of grim amusement in her voice, ‘I intend to.’

Tallie hurried back, seeing William energetically dancing a boulanger with a pretty redhead and finding Kate just accepting a glass of lemonade from her nephew.

‘Well done,’ Nick said appreciatively. ‘That was an entirely successful ambush. One cannot but admire Lady Mornington—did you notice the insinuation that she had to change her will immediately or she might not live to see the next day?’

‘Everyone is talking about it,’ Kate Parry said, fanning herself vigorously. ‘And it is losing nothing in the telling, I can assure you. Tallie—is Agatha much upset?’

‘Very cross with herself, I think,’ Tallie said. ‘And resolving to make amends with her other nephews and nieces. But I do not think she is sad, or greatly distressed.’ She looked at Nick. ‘Where is Mr Hemsley? Did he see us?’

‘He has gone. Even someone with Jack’s brass neck could not brazen it out in front of an entire ballroom full of people sniggering at him. There is no need to worry—he saw William and me and I am sure he has wit enough to know that we set out to entrap him, but I do not think he realises the part you and Aunt Kate played.’

‘I am not frightened of him,’ Tallie said scornfully, then caught Nicholas’s eye and added ruefully, ‘Not while I have you and William to look after me at any rate. I have to admit, I am not a match for someone like that without help.’

Nick bowed ironically. ‘That is gracious, Tallie. May I solicit the next dance?’

It seemed they were on ordinary speaking terms again, and at least he could not launch into embarrassing lectures on how ruined she was or, even worse, make a declaration in the middle of Lady Mornington’s dress ball.

‘Thank you, Lord Arndale,’ Tallie said politely, allowing him to lead her out onto the dance floor. ‘What is it? I have lost track of the dance programme with so much excitement.’

‘A waltz,’ he replied, catching her efficiently around the waist with one hand and capturing her right hand with the other. ‘You have to admit, my timing is perfect.’

‘Perfect,’ Tallie agreed hollowly as the music struck up and she was swept into the dance. Perfect. The last thing she needed was to be held in Nick’s arms as the sensuous, exciting music took them. It was hard enough being with him and fighting to keep the yearning out of her voice, the love out of her eyes, without being so close to him that she could feel his warmth, smell the clean, sharp, indefinable maleness of him.

She needed to concentrate on thwarting any attempt to make her an offer, or, if she failed in that, to refuse him convincingly. As it was she could feel him gathering her tighter into his arms and could make no effort to draw away. Another couple brushed against her skirts and Tallie found herself touching his body, then he had released her again and all she was conscious of was the pounding of her heart and the glitter of his grey eyes when she looked up at him.

The music drew to a crescendo and stopped. Couples stepped apart, clapping politely and beginning to stroll off the floor, but Tallie found herself steered ruthlessly through the onlookers fringing the dance floor and into a deserted retiring room.

‘My lord! What on earth are you about! Please return me to Lady Parry at once—she will concerned to know where I have gone.’ Tallie tried to convince herself that the breathless catch in her voice was simply natural agitation and not the effect of being masterfully carried off in the midst of a crowded ballroom.

‘You may return to her side the minute we have had this much-overdue conversation,’ Nick said patiently, moving round to lean broad shoulders against the door panels.

Tallie eyed the only other exit from the room, a narrow window.

‘And we are one floor above pavement level and, if I am not mistaken, that window will overlook the area, which adds another floor to the drop. If you feel you have overcome your fear of heights do, by all means, feel free to leave.’

Tallie glared. ‘I have no intention of scrambling out of a window to escape you, my lord. You have only to remove your shoulders from that door and I will walk out.’ Provided she could stay angry with him, it was easier to cope. Tallie stamped her foot. ‘Will you please open that door, my lord!’

‘Only if you stop calling me “my lord” every sentence …’

‘Very well then, Nicholas, please—’

‘And if you agree to marry me,’ he finished.

It was not unexpected. She had been trying to avoid him putting that very question all day, but that did not make it any better. Every fibre of her being was screaming yes! Tallie raised both eyebrows haughtily. ‘You will excuse me, my lord, if I find the warmth and sincerity of your offer less than compelling. I am, naturally, conscious of the honour you do me in making such a proposal; however, I must decline.’

‘Tallie.’ It was a warning growl.

‘My lord?’

‘I suppose you would like me to come and kneel down, clasp my hands to my heart and beg you to do me the honour?’

‘That would certainly be an improvement,’ she agreed, casting her eyes downwards so that he could not see the sudden resolution in them.

‘Very well.’ Nick straightened up, took two long strides forward and fell on one knee in front of her. He placed one hand on his heart and said, ‘Miss Grey, may I solicit—’

Tallie whirled away and made a dash for the door. Her fingers were closing around the handle when he took her by the shoulders, spun her round and trapped her against the panels, one hand on either side of her head. It had been a mistake to forget just how good his reflexes were and just how fast he could move.

Now what are you going to do? she asked herself. If he kisses you, you are done for and you know it.

‘Tallie. As we were discussing this morning when William interrupted us, I have thoroughly compromised you. There is only one outcome from that. You must marry me.’ He sounded as though he were keeping the lid upon his patience with some effort.

‘And as I explained to you, you may have compromised me, but nothing happened. No one else besides ourselves and Lady Parry knows about it. I have to do nothing whatsoever, and if you tell me that your honour is at stake or some such masculine nonsense, I give you fair warning, I will kick you.’

Frustrated grey eyes stared into hers. ‘Why will you not say yes? I am hardly ineligible. You know you may acquit me of fortune hunting. Is there someone else?’

‘No, there is not.’ Where the breath to keep talking was coming from Tallie had no idea. She was not conscious of breathing at all and her heart was banging so hard she thought it must be visible through the fine gauze of her bodice. ‘I do not wish to make a loveless marriage, it is as simple as that.’

‘But—’ Nick broke off, for once silenced. Then he said with a hint of a smile, ‘I had rather thought that when I kissed you you were not averse to the caress. In fact, when I have held you in my arms you reacted with warmth.’

‘I am aware that ladies are not supposed to enjoy such things,’ Tallie retorted, wondering if the guardian spirit of Modest Behaviour was about to strike her down where she stood. ‘But I can see that is nonsense, some tale put about to shelter innocent girls. After all, if married ladies did not enjoy it, why would they have affairs? I must confess that I find being kissed by you very … pleasant, and being in your arms is positively stimulating. However,’ she hurried on as both Nick’s eyebrows rose alarmingly, ‘that does not mean I want to marry you. Naturally I realise that now we have had this discussion you are not going to kiss me any more—and that is a pity because I do enjoy it and I would certainly not trust any other gentleman of my acquaintance in that way.’

‘Well, that is frank speaking indeed.’ The familiar cool expression was back on his face and she could not tell whether he was shocked, angry or even, just possibly, amused.

‘I am afraid so.’ Tallie tried to look penitent. ‘I did feel ashamed of myself and then I realised that it is foolish to deny one’s natural, er … appetites. Of course, one should not indulge them any more than one should drink too much wine or eat too much rich food, and one realises in the case of ladies that the penalties are somewhat more extreme.’ Now, surely, she had shocked him sufficiently to put an end to any desire to marry her. She was certainly shocking herself.

‘But within marriage you could indulge those appetites completely,’ Nick observed. ‘You know, Tallie, you are not managing to shock me, which is what I believe you are trying to do. Amuse me, exasperate me and try my patience, certainly. But I am hard to shock and quite alarmingly patient when I want to be. And I do not believe your assumption of the mantle of a loose woman remotely convincing. Now, be a good girl and say “yes” and we can go out and tell Aunt Kate and all will be easy.’

‘No.’

‘Tallie, you have failed to convince me you do not wish to marry me because you are a wanton …’

‘Not a wanton,’ she protested. ‘Or at least, only with you. I like you kissing me, I have to admit it, but I would not have said so if you had not produced that as a clinching argument as to why we should marry. But liking kissing someone is absolutely no reason to think they would be the right person to marry. How many women have you kissed?’

‘Me?’ He removed his hands and straightened up, although he did not move back. ‘I have no idea.’

‘Did you enjoy kissing them?’

‘On the whole, yes. Tallie, what has this to do with our marriage?’

‘And how many of them have you married?’

‘None of them!’

‘Precisely my point,’ Tallie said triumphantly. ‘Just because you enjoy kissing someone, it does not mean you want to marry them. So that, my lord, is not a good argument. How else do you intend to convince me?’

‘You enjoy sparring with me, do you not, Tallie?’ He had his hands on his hips now, head on one side as he regarded her thoughtfully. His lips quirked and she fought the urge to either smile back or stand on tiptoe and kiss the corner of his mouth. She was proving a puzzle to him, a problem, and Tallie sensed that she was also becoming a challenge, almost an intellectual conundrum to be solved.

‘Yes,’ she admitted. And how much fun it would be to be married to him, to stimulate that sharp brain and tease that flashing sense of humour.

‘You will not win, you know,’ he observed.

‘That is not gentlemanly of you.’ Tallie tried a pout for effect. The only reaction that produced was a grin of sheer devilment.

‘Are you a gamester?’

‘No … no, I do not think so. I have never been tempted by games of chance.’

‘Well, let me tempt you with a bet upon a certainty. I wager you will agree to marry me within two weeks of today.’

That seemed safe enough, she was not going to agree, whatever wiles he used. ‘Marry you within two weeks or simply agree to do so?’

‘Agree, I think. I see no point in setting myself any harder a task than I have to.’

‘And if you win?’ she asked.

‘You marry me.’

‘And if you lose?’

‘What would you like?’ He stepped back and smiled again at the innocent calculation her face betrayed.

‘My own phaeton and a team of match bays.’

‘Very well.’

Tallie gasped. ‘Seriously? I never thought you would agree.’

‘I have absolutely no intention of losing, so I can afford to be generous. Of course, if you want such a rig, you only have to marry me and you can have one anyway.’

‘You are absolutely the most infuriating man I have ever come across.’ Tallie reached behind her for the doorknob. ‘Now, are you going to let me out of here?’

‘Once we have sealed the bet,’ he said and took her in his arms. His mouth silenced her protests and he made not the slightest attempt to restrain her, simply allowing the drugging, languorous, sensual slide of his mouth over hers and the insidious caress of his fingers on her throat and shoulder to hold her to him.

Tallie moaned softly and let her body mould to his for a long, shuddering moment. Her lips parted and his tongue slid between them, so gently, so subtly that before she knew what she was doing her own tongue had begun to caress his in turn. He left her mouth and began to nibble the taut tendons of her neck. The blood was roaring in her ears so loudly that she hardly heard the question at first, then he repeated it, murmuring it as his lips teased and tormented the soft skin behind the curl of her ear.

‘Marry me, Tallie.’

Tell me you love me, Nick, say it. Then I will marry you. Tell me …

‘You stir my blood, Tallie. Marry me.’

Not enough. Oh, I want you too … but it is not enough.

‘No.’ Tallie pushed him away with both palms flat on his chest. ‘No, and I am not going to kiss you again.’

Nick stepped back, his own hands raised in the fencer’s gesture of surrender. ‘I promise not to try—for tonight at least.’

Tallie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung on the opposite wall. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, just look at me!’

‘I am,’ Nick drawled. ‘You look delightfully tousled and it provokes the most terrible desire in me to tousle you even more.’

‘Well, you can’t,’ she retorted crisply, more to suppress her own longing to be back in his arms than out of any real fear that he would snatch her into them. She smoothed her hair, rescued some pins that were hanging on by their very tips, fastened the roses, which her maid had tucked into the knot at the nape of her neck, back with their comb and surveyed herself critically, managing not to catch Nick’s amused eye as he watched her. ‘It will have to do. Now, how are we going to get out of here unseen?’

‘Through the window?’

‘You certainly deserve to!’ Tallie peeped round the edge of the door and saw with relief that a particularly noisy and energetic country dance was in progress with most of the onlookers’ attention focused on the dance floor. She slipped out and wove her way through the chairs and pillars until she had put a respectable distance between herself and the retiring-room door.

‘Cousin Tallie, may I ask you something?’

It was William, appearing at her side as though by magic. Tallie blinked at him, still too shaken by what had just taken place to focus properly. ‘William? Not you as well? It is too much!’

Chapter Twenty

Nicholas sauntered casually out of the retiring room just in time to see Tallie turn from William, fumble in her reticule for her handkerchief and disappear into the sitting-room which had been set aside for ladies.

He laid a none-too-gentle hand on his cousin’s shoulder. ‘And just what have you said to Tallie to upset her?’

‘Damned if I know,’ William retorted defensively. ‘All I said was that there was something I wanted to ask her and she said, “Not you as well? It is too much” or some such nonsense. Then her eyes filled up with tears and off she bolted!’ He looked aggrieved. ‘I only wanted to ask her to dance the boulanger. I know I’m not that good a dancer, but no one has ever burst into tears before when I asked them.’

Nick eyed the firmly closed leaves of the sitting-out-room door, a faint and uncharacteristic line forming between his brows. ‘I suspect she thought you were about to propose.’

‘Propose? Propose what?’ William crooked a finger at a passing waiter, secured a glass of champagne, then choked on the first sip. ‘Not marriage?’

‘Hmm.’ Was that what Tallie thought? That there was a family plot for one of them to marry her because she had been compromised and if she did not marry him, then his cousin would step into the breach?

He regarded William, who was coughing indignantly, and administered a sharp slap on the back. ‘Stop that racket. Is it so surprising? I’ve been dinning into her the fact that she has been compromised and will have to marry someone.’

‘Well, why isn’t she marrying you?’ William enquired in a whisper, casting a hasty glance round to see if anyone had noticed their conversation. ‘You compromised her. And she’s in love with you.’

‘What?’ Nick thundered, fortunately under cover of the opening chords of the boulanger, then dropped his voice hastily. ‘Of course she isn’t. If she were, she wouldn’t have turned me down.’ Or given me such an effective summing up of my thoroughly unsatisfactory character, he thought grimly. His mind flinched at the memory of her bitingly expressed opinions—cold, controlling, aloof, amused at the antics of lesser mortals. Apparently pleasant enough to kiss.

William gave an unmannerly snort of disbelief. ‘The pair of you are going about like April and May, for goodness’ sake!’ Nick regarded him incredulously. ‘Very well, not quite like that, I suppose, but one can feel it in the air when the two of you are together. A certain something.’

‘What you can feel is irritation on my part and wilful bad temper and obstinacy on hers.’ And enough erotic attraction to light kindling, Nick ruefully acknowledged. Could Tallie possibly be in love with him? Surely not, or why on earth refuse him? He shook his head as though shaking off an irritating fly. William was hardly a connoisseur of the tender passions—paying him any heed on the subject was madness.

And if anyone was running mad it was Nicholas Stangate, Lord Arndale. He had given himself two weeks to change Tallie’s mind and now he was even further from understanding that mind than he had been at seven o’clock that morning. Damn it, was it only that morning that she’d lain in his arms, in his bed? He felt his body tightening at the memory and trampled ruthlessly on the recollection of soft, warm, naked … ‘Boiled fish.’

‘What?’

God, he was losing his mind if that was the best he could do to conjure up the most unerotic thought possible. ‘Never mind, I was thinking aloud. Best go and find Aunt Kate and tell her Tallie is not feeling well. She’ll probably want to take her home.’

William began to weave his way through the guests. Nick was vaguely conscious of him leaving, but his eyes stayed on the closed door of the sitting-out room. Provokingly independent, charmingly outrageous, worryingly courageous. All those descriptions fitted Talitha Grey. Marriage to her would certainly never be boring. His involuntary smile faded at the memory of the handkerchief she had held to her eyes as she vanished into the room. He had never seen her cry before, surely? Oh, yes, he had, he recalled with a pang of conscience. Once when he had knocked the breath out of her and once when some sharp remark he had made had caused her eyes to fill with bravely suppressed tears. At the thought of her distress something tightened hard in the pit of his stomach. Had he been harassing her? Pushing her too far? Or was it just that the last twenty-four hours were enough to undermine the spirits of anyone, however resolute?

Tallie sniffed resolutely and waved away the sal volatile that Miss Harvey, a fellow débutante, was helpfully attempting to press into her hand. ‘Thank you, no, I am quite all right. It was just that someone stood on my toe—so very painful! I quite thought he had broken it, and my eyes were watering. No, no, I assure you, you are most kind …’

Would the wretched girl never go away? Tallie wiped her eyes, smiled with more than a hint of gritted teeth and at last, thankfully, Miss Harvey turned away, only to swing round at the door with renewed offers of assistance.

‘No, nothing you can do. So kind of you …’ And it was kind, Tallie acknowledged to herself. And poor William had probably meant nothing more than to ask her to dance, or if she wanted a drink. Her nerves were on edge, she was overtired, that was all. In the morning after a good night’s sleep all would be in proportion again. Nicholas would accept his congé with good grace, Aunt Kate would stop worrying and she could slip away down to Putney to see Zenna’s proposed schoolhouse for a few days’ peace and quiet. Then she could return and spend the last weeks of the Season enjoying herself before slipping quietly out of Society for ever.

‘Talitha dearest, whatever is the matter!’ It was Lady Parry, all of a flutter, waving aside the attendant and seizing Tallie’s hands in hers as she plumped down on the sofa next to her.

‘Nothing, Aunt Kate, I am just a little tired, that is all.’

‘I should never have agreed to this madcap scheme of Nicholas’s, not so soon after … after last night. You must be emotionally drained, you poor child. Come along, I have told William to order up the carriage; we’ll send it back for the men later and they can stay and play cards and flirt to their hearts’ content. Why they do not flag with exhaustion I do not know—I am quite worn out.’

‘Possibly because you do not stay abed until past noon the next day, ma’am,’ Tallie suggested lightly. She would raise the idea of a trip to Putney on their way back, then she could try to sleep, at least knowing that was settled.

Clucking under her breath at the indolent and dissipated ways of modern young men, Lady Parry swept Tallie out of the sitting-out room and scanned the crowds. ‘Goodness knows where Agatha Mornington has got to—probably flirting with the Lord Chief Justice.’

‘Surely not?’ Despite herself Tallie was entertained at the thought.

‘Well, they do say she had an affaire with him in their youth,’ Lady Parry confided, then recalled to whom she was speaking and added firmly, ‘All silly gossip, of course. Now, where has William got to?’

At length the ladies found themselves safely in their carriage, Tallie having found the opportunity for a rapid whispered apology to William. ‘I am so sorry I was short when you tried to speak to me, I am just so tired this evening.’ The effect of her green eyes, still swimming with unshed tears, was more than enough to reduce him to a stammered assurance that he had noticed nothing, nothing at all out of the way, and of course she must be tired.

Lady Parry disposing her furs, reticule and fan about her on the broad expanse of green velvet, was less easy to fob off. ‘You poor child! What a dreadful couple of days you have had of it.’ Although Tallie could not see her face, she was aware of a shift of mood, a sharpening of interest. ‘Now, has Nicholas had the opportunity to speak to you?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘And?’

‘And what, ma’am?’

‘Has he proposed to you?’

‘Lord Arndale has kindly explained to me that I am ruined, hopelessly compromised and must marry him, yes.’

‘And?’

‘In the face of such a tender declaration I felt no compunction in declining,’ Tallie replied, somewhat more tartly than she had intended.

‘Oh, foolish boy! I had no thought that he could express himself so badly! What on earth is he about? When I consider how much address he has …’

‘Possibly too much, dear ma’am. I think Lord Arndale expects the weaker sex to fall in at once with whatever he proposes, whether it is a walk in the park, the best place for their investments or his opinion on their marriage prospects. I, however, do not choose to dance to his lordship’s tune and, as I have already explained to him, I have no intention of marrying and never have had.’

‘But, Talitha, do consider …’

‘I agree, dearest Aunt Kate, that I am indeed compromised. Should I be intending to marry, it would put me in the most delicate of situations for I would need, in all honour, to confess everything to a prospective husband. And,’ she added with a wry laugh, ‘I suspect he would remain a contender for my hand for not a moment after hearing that confession. But I have not the slightest desire to take a husband, so it does not arise.’

‘Oh, Tallie, how can you not wish to marry? And Nicholas is the most eligible of men.’

‘Why, certainly, ma’am, if one is concerned only with title, wealth, intelligence, looks and a ready address. I am foolish enough to wish only for a husband, be he ever so humble, who loves me and tells me so. I am most unlikely to find such a soul mate, and his lordship, to do him justice, does not perjure himself with false declarations of emotions he does not feel.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Lady Parry said dismally. Even in the fitful light cast by the flambeaux as they passed Tallie could see her shoulders droop. ‘This is not what Miss Gower and I dreamed about for you.’

‘You thought that I should marry Lord Arndale?’ The words were out before she could help herself. Surely the two ladies could never have dreamed that their protégée would attach the interest of the eligible Nicholas Stangate, Lord Arndale?

‘Well, you always seemed so … different, so independent.’ Lady Parry was obviously struggling to articulate what the two friends had plotted so deviously. ‘And Nicholas is inclined to be so cool and so much in command of everything. We thought—’ she broke off in confusion ‘—we thought you would do him good, shake him out of that control, make him enjoy himself.’

‘I would have thought,’ Tallie said drily, ‘that Lord Arndale was more than capable of enjoying himself without any help from us.’

‘You mean his mistresses and so forth,’ Lady Parry remarked, apparently rendered indiscreet by the darkness. Tallie felt incapable of enquiring what so forth meant. ‘Well, of course, but there too he is in control. By all accounts he is perfectly fair, very generous, but he needs shaking up a little in my opinion.’