Kitabı oku: «Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1», sayfa 9

Chapter Ten

Tallie knew perfectly well, even if William did not, that she should have made her way back to Lady Parry and allowed her chaperon to approve her partners. And she was certain she should not had agreed when Mr Hemsley had appeared at her elbow and had begged the privilege of the next dance. But the sight of him had so flustered her that she had not been able to decline gracefully.

It was a quadrille and Tallie quailed somewhat at the thought of the complexities of the steps. They joined a set with three other couples and at first Tallie was too focused on setting to the right partner at the right moment to pay much attention to Jack Hemsley.

But after the first repeat her confidence came back and she relaxed. Mr Hemsley was fortunately behaving himself impeccably and, if she had not known just how despicably he could behave to a defenceless woman, she would have felt perfectly comfortable in his company. It was obvious he had not the slightest idea he was dancing with the model for the ‘Diana’ picture and she even doubted he recalled the mousy milliner he had winked at in Lady Parry’s drawing room.

She was quite certain, however, that he had garnered every scrap of gossip about her fortune and circumstances and this dance was the opening salvo in his campaign to woo the new heiress. It would be amusing to thank him coolly after the dance and to refuse another. She had no sooner resolved on this admirably sensible course of action than the parting lines of dancers gave her a view of Nick Stangate watching her across the floor.

His disapproval was as palpable as if he had spoken and she flushed angrily.

Did he think that after kissing her and lecturing her he was now going to try and exert some form of control over her in the ballroom? Well, it was time he was taught a lesson, Tallie fumed inwardly. She would show him she was not easily taken in by rakes and fortune hunters and could perfectly easily handle the likes of Jack Hemsley.

She pushed away the knowledge that she had been hurt that evening by his silence when she came downstairs. If she thought about it she would cry, which was ridiculous. She did not need Nick Stangate’s approval or admiration. She knew she was looking very fine. Lady Parry had told her, William’s open admiration told her, the expressions of the people she met told her.

Tallie tried not to refine too much on the look on Nick’s face as she had walked tremulously down those endless stairs. She had expected him to be pleased at the transformation, to smile, to show some warmth and admiration. Instead his face had set into stone, his eyes had glittered coldly and he had not even managed to make some token remark.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face for, as the last notes of the dance echoed around the room and she rose from her curtsy, Jack Hemsley asked, ‘Have I displeased you, Miss Grey? Do not say I am responsible for that frown.’

‘Was I frowning? I do beg your pardon. It is just the … the noise and the heat. I am not accustomed to balls, you see.’

‘Then you must have a glass of lemonade and some air, Miss Grey.’ He was guiding her from the floor with practised smoothness, one hand just resting under her elbow, smiling and bowing as they made their way through the throng.

‘I am all right, really, Mr Hemsley. If I could just go back to Lady Parry.’ It was difficult to know how to extricate herself without making a scene.

‘In a moment, Miss Grey, you are quite flushed. I am sure there is a risk of you swooning if you return immediately to that crush and heat. Now just here … ah, yes.’

He pushed open a door and Tallie found herself in a little room, almost like a box at the theatre. It opened out onto a balcony overlooking the garden, although the windows were closed against the chill March night.

‘I will just open this a crack, so, and if you sit here …’ he patted a sofa encouragingly ‘… then you will not be in the draught, but you will have the benefit of the air.’

It all seemed very sensible, even innocuous. ‘Thank you, sir.’ Tallie sat down, suddenly aware of just how warm she was feeling. ‘Perhaps if I was to drink some lemonade as you suggested, I will be able to go back in a moment.’

‘Of course.’ Instead of going out for the drink, he sat next to her and lifted her hand in his. ‘Why, your pulse is racing my dear Miss Grey. I think I had better remain here for a moment just in case you feel faint. Put your head on my shoulder so …’

‘Stop it!’ Tallie struggled to stand up and found herself very effectively pinned against the upholstery. Mr Hemsley might affect the airs of a languid man of fashion, but the muscles under his coat were alarmingly hard as she pushed against them.

‘Just one little kiss before we go back, my dear.’

Tallie freed a hand and swung it. It made satisfying contact with the side of his head, but left her gasping and clutching her wrist with the jarring pain. Hemsley’s hands groped for her, found her hair and gripped in an effort to turn her face for a kiss.

Tallie wrenched back and felt pins and combs falling down. With a jerk of her knee she was free, on her feet, halfway to the door.

It opened and she found herself face to face with Nick, William at his back. She stopped dead, the carefully piled edifice of her coiffure broke free and hair cascaded down her back. Behind her Jack Hemsley swore, a sharp, vicious sound. In front of her she saw Nick pull William into the room and slam the door to behind him.

‘Stop anyone coming in.’

William placed his back against the panels and stared at the scene. The sight of the shock and distress on his young face hurt Tallie more than anything else.

‘You will name your seconds, Hemsley.’ Nick sounded icily calm.

‘Now look here, I know how this looks …’

‘It looks as though you were assaulting Miss Grey.’

‘Well, I wasn’t. Thought she was going to faint—heat and so on. Brought her in here, opened the window, see. Wouldn’t do a damn fool thing like that if I was going to tumble the girl now, would I?’

William straightened up from the door, his fists clenched. Nick put out a hand and stopped him. ‘You will speak of Miss Grey with respect or I will not trouble with form and deal with you here and now.’

‘You wouldn’t do that—look, Nick old chap, it’s all a misunderstanding, silly chit thought I was trying to—’

The blow landed with a satisfying thump right on the point of Hemsley’s chin. Nick stepped forward, rubbing his balled fist in the other palm. ‘Get up. I want to do that again.’ He sounded as though he was asking the man to deal another hand of cards.

Tallie swirled round and stared at the wall. She didn’t want to see what Nick was doing, didn’t want to see the look on his face as he methodically began to take Jack Hemsley to pieces. And she did not want to see the disillusion on William’s face as he realised what the man he thought was his friend was capable of with a young woman living in his house.

‘Now get out. William, make sure he gets away from this room without anyone seeing him. And, Hemsley, don’t even think of speaking of this, will you? Because if you do, I’ll break your neck.’

Thank God, he hadn’t killed him. Tallie wondered vaguely if she was going to be sick. Probably not, she concluded after a fierce struggle with her stomach. Was she alone? William had gone, and Hemsley. The room was quiet except for the sounds of music and talk and laughter penetrating the heavy door.

She put out a hand to the wall in front of her and just stood, head bowed, her hair shielding her face. Then she knew she was not alone. Someone moved behind her, so close she could feel his heat through her flimsy gown and hands turned her into the safety of soft linen, encircling arms, a strong comforting heartbeat.

‘Nick.’

‘What?’ His breath stirred her hair. She felt a weight on the top of her head as though he had laid his cheek there.

‘Just … Nick. I am sorry to have been so foolish, I really thought he was going to get me a glass of lemonade. He won’t say anything, will he?’

‘Not and expect to live, no. He is a coward and I am both a better shot and a better swordsman than he is.’ There was a pause. ‘Are you crying?’

‘No,’ lied Tallie, trying not to sniff. She felt so safe, so warm, so cherished.

‘In that case, why is the front of my shirt becoming soggy?’ Nick enquired.

Tallie felt his hand under her chin and her face was ruthlessly tipped up despite her efforts to resist. ‘I have to tell you, Cousin Talitha, your nose is pink, but your eyes look absolutely enchanting swimming in tears. It is quite obvious that you did not pay the slightest attention to the warning I gave you the other day. I will just have to repeat it.’

This time the kiss was not so gentle, not so careful. Tallie found her lips parting under the onslaught of his, then gasped as his tongue invaded ruthlessly. Her body appeared to understand exactly what that intrusion meant, wanted more, was telling her to react in ways that were new and shamingly wanton in order to incite him.

She felt her own tongue darting to meet his, to caress, challenge his, flicker daringly into the heat of his mouth. Her body arched against him, soft against the answering hardness. Her breasts ached, her loins ached, she ached …

There was a knock on the door.

When William peered round, he found Tallie lying back against the sofa cushions looking flushed and Nick on one knee on the carpet gathering up hairpins.

‘Has he gone?’

William nodded. ‘I followed him. He went out through the back; no one saw him. I brought you a glass of lemonade, Tallie.’

Tallie forced a smile for him, her heart aching at the look of distress on his face. ‘Thank you, William, I am quite all right, truly.’

‘What can I do? Shall I fetch Mama and send for the carriage to come round to the back?’

‘No.’ Nick’s voice was sharp. ‘The ball has hardly started, Tallie cannot simply vanish like that. It will cause talk. Help me find all these pins and then go to the kitchens and ask for some rice powder.’

‘Rice powder? I can’t just—’

‘You are Lord Parry and a guest. If you ask them for a bucket of earthworms, they’ll give it to you. Tallie, how many pins were there?’

Tallie racked her brains. ‘Twelve, I think, and two combs.’

‘I can find ten, that will have to do. William, have you got a comb?’

Tallie found herself perched on the edge of the sofa while Nick combed, cursed and muttered through a mouthful of hairpins. Eventually she felt the weight of her hair lift and put up a tentative hand. ‘Nick, it’s wonderful! How did you learn how to do that?’

‘I don’t think I want to tell you,’ he said. ‘It would shock you. Well, Aunt Kate will be able to tell something has happened, but I don’t think anyone else will suspect more than overenthusiastic participation in a country dance. Now, where’s William?’

He appeared on the question, flushed and more than a little put out. ‘They looked at me as though I was mad,’ he muttered, handing over a large jar.

Nick grinned. ‘I want to powder Tallie’s nose, not bake a batch of whatever one cooks with the stuff, you young idiot. Oh well, it will give the housemaids something to speculate about in the morning when they find it.’ He drew a handkerchief out of his pocket, dipped it in the jar and turned to Tallie. ‘Sit still. There, that’s better, now you look less like a white rabbit and more like an overheated young lady.’

Tallie dropped her eyes, too embarrassed to meet his amused gaze. He stood up and straightened his cuffs, then dabbed at his grazed knuckles with the powdered handkerchief. ‘William, go and tell your mother that Tallie is all right and will be out in a moment.’

There was a long silence after the door closed. Tallie got carefully to her feet and smoothed down her gown. Surely the moment she stepped outside the door people would look at her and know that only a few minutes before she had been locked in Nick Stangate’s heated embrace, kissing him back with all the fervour she could. Surely wanton was branded across her forehead?

‘Tallie,’ he said softly, one hand on the doorknob.

‘Yes?’

‘Will you not tell me your secret?’

Tallie’s eyes flew to his face. Of all the things he might have said, this was furthest from her imaginings. ‘No!’ she blurted out. ‘No! Was that why you kissed me? You thought you would confuse and befuddle me until I would tell you anything? No!’ And she was through the door and into the corridor before he could stop her. Three hurried steps and she was on the threshold of the ballroom. Tallie ignored the footsteps behind her, took a deep breath, fixed a social smile on her burning lips and, with pounding heart, stepped calmly into the mêlée.

She made her way to Lady Parry’s side and sat down with a careful smile on her face. After one startled glance her chaperon handed her a fan and said brightly for the benefit of their near neighbours, ‘Talitha dear, how often did I warn you about the country dances? You look a sad romp.’

‘Yes, Aunt Kate. I am sorry, Aunt Kate.’ Tallie did her best to shrink back while around her amused chaperons tutted and smiled at her overenthusiasm.

She was rescued eventually by William asking her to accompany him to the supper room. He tucked her hand firmly under his elbow, treated her as though she was made of glass and scowled so forbiddingly at any man who came near that they ended up in sole possession of a table.

Tallie made herself nibble at a savoury patty and relax in the hope that William would relax too. It was rather like being escorted by a large, fierce dog. ‘Where is Lord Arndale?’

‘I’m not sure. I think he has left; he was certainly looking like thunder when you came out of that room. And he was pretty short with me when I tried to ask him what he was going to do next.’

‘What … what did he say?’

‘Didn’t make sense.’ William’s brow furrowed. ‘He said it was time to take some precautions and at least he now knew what he was dealing with. Does that make any sense to you?’

‘No.’ Tallie shook her head. ‘None at all, unless … William, he wouldn’t have gone after Mr Hemsley, would he?’

‘What, to call him out after all? No, not without me. He’d need at least one second, and I’m the only one he can involve without risking talk.’ William offered Tallie a plate of sweetmeats and, when she shook her head, stood up. ‘Let’s get back, shall we? Do you think we can have another waltz without all the old biddies shaking their heads over us?’

Tallie followed him, just relieved at the thought of being in a safe pair of arms and having something to think about other than Nick Stangate. All the contradictions were back, tearing her apart, making her unable to think about him coherently, let alone know how to deal with him.

He had saved her again, this time with his anger and his physical courage rather than his quick wits and self-restraint. And he had aroused in her feelings and longings that she could hardly comprehend, let alone control. And then he had struck at her with that question about her secret. He had tried to trick her into an answer when he must have known she was at her most vulnerable, must have known that he himself had contributed to that vulnerability.

Nick Stangate was ruthless and dangerous, and he had most cause to be when he thought something of his was threatened. If he found out the truth about her, he would see it as a direct threat to his family, never mind how forgiving Lady Kate was inclined to be about it. And now he knew how she reacted to being in his arms, he had a potent weapon she had to make certain he never again had the opportunity to use against her. Never.

Chapter Eleven

The household in Bruton Street received no visits from Lord Arndale during the week following the Duchess’s ball. Which was not to say that he was not making himself very much felt.

Tallie heard from Zenna that she was receiving particulars of houses almost daily. Then there was a visit from a very helpful clerk who offered Miss Scott his escort to any properties she might wish to view.

‘He brought Lord Arndale’s card with him,’ she explained on a fleeting visit to ask if she might borrow a maid to accompany her. Lady Parry had agreed immediately, explaining that she had a parlour maid with aspirations to become a ladies’ maid. ‘It will be useful practise for her to learn how to behave when out with a lady.’

William reported bumping into his cousin in various clubs and once as he emerged from a house near Pickering Place. ‘Asked him what on earth he was doing there. He gave me one of his poker-faced looks and said he was calling on his agent. Rum sort of place for an agent if you ask me.’

But, disconcertingly, Nicholas appeared at every function Tallie attended. He did not ask her to dance or engage her in conversation, merely stopping long enough to give the appearance of normality before moving on to the card tables or another dancing partner.

Tallie moved rapidly from feeling relieved to being intrigued and then downright piqued—especially as she was beginning to enjoy a flattering amount of success with her come-out. The least Nicholas could do was to ask her to dance occasionally. When his parting shot at Lady Cressett’s musical evening was, ‘I am glad to see you are doing nothing indiscreet or unwise', Tallie was filled with an urge to do something quite outrageous out of sheer defiance.

Fortunately nothing occurred to her and the next afternoon she set off in the Parrys’ carriage for a cosy evening in Upper Wimpole Street to discuss the lodging-house scheme with Mrs Blackstock.

She arrived early enough to spend some time with Millie before she set off for the Opera House and listened with interest to tales of backstage rivalries, Millie’s excellent progress in her singing and the flattering number of floral tributes she was receiving.

Tallie caught Zenna’s eye. She had confided her experience with Jack Hemsley because she wanted to put Zenna on her guard if she had any further contact with him. Now she raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly in Millie’s direction. Zenna shrugged and a few moments later took the opportunity to whisper, ‘I have not seen him around, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t seeing him at the Opera House.’

‘Probably hiding his bruises,’ Tallie said grimly, remembering the sound of those blows thudding home on flesh and bone.

* * *

By seven o’clock Tallie and Mrs Blackstock found themselves alone. Zenna had been invited to visit the family of one of her ex-pupils and Millie had departed for the Opera House in a hackney carriage.

‘I’ll just spread out the details of the ones we thought most suitable,’ Tallie suggested, picking up the sheaf of house particulars. ‘If I move these things off the table … Is this not Millie’s reticule?’

Tallie held it up and Mrs Blackstock looked anxious. ‘Oh, dear, it is, she must have forgotten it. Is her purse inside?’

A quick glance found the stocking purse nestling within, along with Millie’s house key.

‘I had better take a cab and go to the theatre,’ Mrs Blackstock said with a sigh. ‘She could borrow the cab fare back from another girl, I suppose, but knowing Millie she won’t think of it until she’s outside the theatre on her way home.’

Tallie looked at the older woman’s tired face and got to her feet. ‘No, I’ll go. I haven’t seen the new production yet and it will be fun to do so from backstage.’

Mrs Blackstock accepted the offer with gratitude, but insisted on coming out with Tallie until she found a respectable-looking hackney carriage and made sure that Tallie had Millie’s stocking purse tucked inside her own reticule.

It took some while for the cab to make its way through the crowded evening streets from Upper Wimpole Street to the point where the Opera House stood on the corner of Haymarket and Pall Mall. Tallie had never been backstage before, but she knew where to find the stage door and the elderly man on duty there let her in willingly enough when she asked for Millie and tipped him a silver coin.

Tallie had to push her way through shabby, crowded corridors half-blocked with scenery flats and overflowing wicker baskets. Faintly she could hear the orchestra tuning up ahead and small knots of people hurried past, careless of whom they pushed aside in their haste.

Searching for someone who was not in such a hurry, Tallie turned into a quieter passageway. A door opened in front of her and a man wearing nothing but skintight inexpressibles, an obvious wig of red hair and a scowl stepped out. Tallie blinked at this apparition, unsure whether to scream or give way to giggles.

‘John!’ the man bawled, breaking off to glare at Tallie. ‘Where in the name of Heaven is my fool of a dresser?’

‘I have no idea, sir,’ she replied, tearing her gaze away from his naked torso. ‘Where is the chorus changing room?’

‘Boys or girls?’ he demanded.

‘Girls!’ Tallie said indignantly.

‘Never can tell,’ he observed obscurely. ‘Down there, turn left, down the stairs, follow the cackling. John, you idle bastard!’

With her hands clamped over her ears Tallie hastened down the corridor in the direction of his pointing hand. There was no denying that the noise betrayed the location of the dressing-room, and when Tallie peeped round the door she could quite see why.

At least two dozen girls in various stages of undress filled the room, which was overheated, glaringly lit and reeked of perspiration, cheap scent and face powder.

At the nearest makeshift dressing-table to the door a dark girl in a thin chemise was clutching a post while another in pink fleshings that left nothing to the imagination hauled on her stay laces. ‘Tighter, you silly tart,’ the first girl gasped when the second stopped heaving. ‘Tighter or I’ll never get into the costume.’

‘Fall out of it more like,’ her friend retorted with a chuckle. ‘That’ll be a crowd pleaser.’

‘Excuse me,’ Tallie ventured when they both subsided panting, ‘is Amelie LeNoir in here?’

‘Millie? Yes, over there. Here, luv, just stick your finger on that knot while I do the bow. Ta. Millie!’ She raised a voice trained to be heard from the front row of the chorus to the back seats in the gods. ‘Visitor!’

Tallie extracted her finger from the tangle of stay laces and hurried over to where Millie’s startled face appeared round a rack of costumes.

‘You forgot your purse,’ she explained, plumping down on a stool next to her friend. ‘May I watch the performance from backstage?’

‘Oh, thank you, Tallie,’ Millie said warmly. ‘Yes, of course, just take care you do not get in anyone’s way—and you won’t have to mind the language.’

Tallie settled down to absorb the atmosphere. Once her ears adjusted to the din and apparent chaos she began to pick out differences in costumes and to make some sense out of what was going on.

What had seemed to her first startled gaze to be Millie’s state of near nudity was revealed as being a set of skin-toned fleshings over which a dress, apparently made of disparate pieces of fabric, was in fact held together by panels of pink net. It still revealed slender ankles and a quantity of Millie’s well-turned calf.

Millie dusted her face with a vast powder puff and searched frantically through her cluttered table. ‘Where’s my lampblack? Jemmie!’

‘Yes, miss?’ A sharp-faced urchin appeared as though by magic.

‘Where’s my lampblack?’

‘Suzy half-inched it,’ the boy reported.

‘Well, go and half-inch it back.’

‘That’s a boy!’ Tallie gasped.

‘Yes, I know. That’s Jemmie. He’s eight.’

‘But you are all … I mean, half of you haven’t got any clothes on and—’

‘He’s used to it,’ Millie said calmly. ‘Doesn’t know any different. Thinks we’re all his sisters in any case.’

A man stuck his head round the door. ‘Overture and beginners! Shift your assets, you load of …’ A chorus of abuse and thrown objects greeted this announcement and he ducked back through he door.

Tallie had a sudden vision of what Nick would say if he saw her now and had to suppress a laugh. He hoped she was being neither indiscreet nor unwise, did he? How would he categorise sitting in the middle of the opera-chorus dressing-room?

Millie was jamming a saucy hat on her head and picking up a beribboned shepherd’s crook. ‘Right. Here we go. I’m in the first scene with the other village girls.’

Tallie spent an exhilarating hour and a half being jostled, sworn at, deafened and shocked as she jammed herself into a corner of the wings and watched the performance. At last the final curtain came down and the cast rushed off, sweaty, exhausted and apparently ready to spend the rest of the night in a continuous party.

‘Come on.’ Millie caught Tallie’s arm and dragged her along. ‘I need to get changed before they let any of them in.’

‘Who?’ Tallie found herself acting as an impromptu dresser, unhooking Millie’s costume and handing her pieces of cotton waste dipped in goose grease to clean off the make-up.

‘We get the lot: the bloods, the peep o’day boys, a few flats, some pinks of the ton,’ Millie said calmly. ‘I don’t encourage them myself, of course, but most of the girls have got followers.’

‘They are going to let them in here?’ Tallie squeaked. ‘Can we go before that happens?’

‘If I really rush.’ Millie stepped into her petticoats and reached for a walking dress hanging on a hook beside her. ‘Normally I’m never finished before they come in. So long as I’m dressed properly I don’t mind. I just get on and do my hair and things.’

Tallie fidgeted with impatience, unable to see anything she could help with to finish Millie’s toilette. The last thing she had expected was to be found in here by a crowd of amorously inclined men—judging from the very half-hearted efforts some of the girls were making to get changed, any man coming here this evening was not going to want to be discussing the finer points of the script.

‘Where are my shoes?’ Millie demanded, dropping to her knees and scrabbling under the table. ‘Oh bother, I’ve kicked one right through …’ She scuttled under the table in pursuit of her missing slipper, leaving Tallie by herself as the door swung open to admit a crowd of men.

They were in a dangerously boisterous mood, already half-drunk, clutching champagne bottles and more than ready to enjoy whatever favours the chorus girls were minded to share with them. Tallie retreated behind a rack of dresses, only to freeze as a very familiar voice reached her from the other side of the wall of mirrors.

‘Why, Miss LeNoir! Charmed to see you. I did so enjoy your performance tonight.’ Hemsley. Tallie pressed herself back against the wall, then realised that she could not abandon Millie, who was obviously responding with flattered delight to his compliments.

‘Your voice goes from strength to strength,’ he was confiding. ‘I think you are wasted in the chorus. I happen to know someone who manages performances at Drury Lane. I know he would hear you as a favour to me. Why don’t you let me drive you home this evening so we can discuss it? You don’t want to be here with this rabble—it is unsuitable for an artiste of your talent.’

‘Oh, thank you, Mr Hemsley, but I cannot drive with you this evening; besides, should you be out when you have so obviously been injured? Whatever happened?’

Tallie tiptoed closer to the end of the makeshift wall of mirrors.

‘Footpads, my dear, six of them at least. I had my cane, of course, and I flatter myself I have a good right hook, but even so, it took me some time to—’ He broke off, his drawling voice choking on the words as Tallie appeared. She glanced around, but the rest of the men were gathered round a giggling group of girls by the door; they would not be overheard.

‘Why, Mr Hemsley, what a dreadful mess those villains made of your face!’ If she had not been present when it happened, she would never have believed that mass of bruises was the work of one man. ‘How heroic of you to beat them off.’

‘Do you know Mr Hemsley, then, Tallie?’ Millie asked innocently, her face lighting up to discover two of her friends were acquainted.

‘Yes, indeed,’ Tallie said earnestly. ‘You have been having a hard time, Mr Hemsley, have you not? Such ill fortune to be attacked by footpads immediately after Lord Arndale beat you so soundly for attempting to ravish me.’

‘What!’ Millie gasped, running to Tallie’s side to put her arm around her. ‘You … you beast!’

It was obvious that Millie trusted her friend’s word absolutely. She stood by Tallie like a fierce little cat defending its kitten against a dog. ‘Take one step nearer and I’ll scratch your eyes out, you libertine!’

‘My dear Miss LeNoir,’ Hemsley was making the mistake of trying to bluster. ‘It was simply a misunderstanding—’

‘On your part,’ a cold voice said. Three pairs of eyes turned to find Nicholas Stangate lounging negligently against a clothes rail. A semi-clad dancer ran over giggling and put her arms around him. ‘Not now, darling,’ he said absently, giving her a pat on her rounded little rump. ‘Off you go like a good girl.’

Tallie made a serious effort to steady her voice, then observed, ‘If you hit him here it will start a brawl.’

‘I know. Tempting, isn’t it? I feel like a little excitement … of some kind. But we don’t want to upset the ladies, do we, Hemsley? Why don’t you run along while I take them home?’

Hemsley stalked to the door with as much dignity as he could muster. Nick did not even trouble to watch him leave and missed the look of murderous hatred he shot back at Tallie. I will make you sorry for this, those eyes promised. She shivered. She had made an enemy, a very bad enemy, and so had Nick.