The Notorious Mr Hurst. Louise Allen

gentleman, and therefore would not merit a challenge.’

      Maude looked at him, her eyes wide and steady. ‘Yes, you are, in every way that counts. Or I would not be here.’

      Her certainty knocked the breath out of him. He was accepted, to a point, in society as an intelligent, personable exotic. He could imagine the reaction if he so much as flirted with one of the young ladies on the Marriage Mart. And they, he was quite certain, would have had him pointed out by their mamas as completely ineligible, if not dangerous. Yet Lady Maude appeared to have no such scruples.

      ‘I will speak to my man of business tomorrow and amend my figures,’ she continued. ‘Would it be convenient to call in a few days’ time?’

      ‘I should not—’ He meant to say, I should not be doing business with you, but it came out differently. ‘I should not expect you to come here. Could I not meet you at his office? It would be safer, surely?’

      ‘For whom?’ she enquired, suddenly very much Lady Maude and not the unconventional young woman conducting her own negotiations. ‘I feel quite safe. Are you frightened of something?’

      Eden drew in a deep breath, ignored the interestingly unsafe suggestions his body was making. ‘For myself, I fear nothing and nobody, Lady Maude.’ He let a chill harden his voice. He could not act, had never wanted to, but he had grown up surrounded by good actors and learned a trick or two. When he wanted to, he could intimidate and he found that useful.

      Her lashes swept down to hide her thoughts, and he thought he had shaken her. Then she lifted her eyes and murmured, ‘Good. I will hold you to that.’ She closed her portfolio and got to her feet, smiling with ladylike composure as he rose to open the door. ‘I will send a note and come back here next week to discuss how to proceed.’

      ‘You will attend the first night of our new play?’

      ‘On Monday? I am looking forward to it. You will be putting on a ballet and a farce for the intervening nights, I assume?’

      ‘Yes. Trifling things, but I do not care to have the theatre dark.’ He looked down at her and knew he had to take control of this situation, whatever it was. ‘Lady Maude. Unless you tell Lord Pangbourne of your intentions, I must decline to discuss this matter further with you.’

      For a moment he thought she would admit defeat and did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed. ‘You make terms, Mr Hurst?’ she asked, her face unreadable.

      ‘That is what businessmen do.’

      She stood there, one hand in its tight kid glove resting on the door frame, quite clearly thinking. ‘Mr Hurst, do you want me to take my money and go away?’

      ‘It would be safer for your reputation and it would certainly make life simpler,’ he said honestly.

      ‘That is not what I asked you,’ she said, managing to look down her nose at him, a considerable feat considering their respective heights.

      ‘No,’ Eden said, surprising himself. ‘No, I do not want you to go away. After all, I have so little in my life to worry about as it is. You will doubtless be the grit in my oyster.’ She glared in response to his sarcasm. To his horror he found himself thinking about kissing her face back into smiles. ‘But I mean it. Tell Lord Pangbourne before this goes any further. I want your word on it.’

      ‘My word, Mr Hurst?’ Her chin came up as she gathered her skirts in one hand. ‘You have it, sir. Good day to you.’

       Chapter Four

      Maude cupped her chin in her palm and regarded her father thoughtfully. For once they were both at the breakfast table at the same time, he having declared that he was not going to the House that day and she deciding it would be good tactics to forgo her usual early morning ride in Hyde Park in order to speak to him about the Unicorn.

      She had spent an uncomfortable night fearing Eden’s scruples had overturned all her plans right at the outset.

      ‘Papa?’ He seemed to be in a good mood. His perusal of the Morning Post and The Times had provoked only half a dozen exclamations of wrath and he had not yet screwed up any of his morning correspondence and lobbed it at the fireplace.

      ‘Yes, my dear?’ He folded his paper and laid it beside the plate. ‘When your mother addressed me in that tone, she usually had some fixed purpose in mind.’

      ‘Well, and so I have. You recall saying I might have the control of my money unless I wanted to do something foolish with it and you would rely on Mr Benson to warn you if I did appear to be doing just that?’

      ‘I believe I said something of that nature,’ he responded, wary. ‘Rainbow, that will be all. I will ring if I need anything.’

      The butler bowed, nodded at his subordinates to follow him and left them alone.

      ‘Tell me. I am braced for the worst.’ Lord Pangbourne folded his hands over his stomach.

      ‘You know the Unicorn theatre?’

      ‘I should do, since you rent a box there and we have visited regularly since it reopened.’

      ‘You will have noticed that it is one of the best of the non-Patent theatres and that the manager, Mr Hurst, has been improving it.’

      ‘The gas lighting, yes.’

      ‘I wish to invest in it.’ She sat back and tried to look calm, as though she had asked if she should buy government bonds, or some rental property in a good area. Her fingers hurt; she found they were knotted into her napkin. Maude frowned at them and made herself relax.

      ‘In gas lighting? I believe that could well be the coming thing.’ He lifted the newspaper. ‘There are some companies advertising here, in fact—’

      ‘In the Unicorn, Papa.’ Time for complete frankness. Almost. ‘I wish to invest a sum in the theatre and to take an interest in its overall policy. I find it most interesting.’

      ‘The theatre? But, Maude, that is not at all a respectable world, not on that side of the curtain. It is inhabited by the demi-monde and frequented by gentlemen who are not there because of their interest in the dramatic arts—I am sure I need not say more. For a woman to be connected with the stage is to court ruin. It is quite out of the question.’

      ‘I do not want to appear on the stage, Papa,’ Maude said. ‘That would be a scandal indeed—think how bad my acting is! And I most certainly do not want to be behind the scenes when the gentlemen come calling in the evening. I can quite see what a risk that would be.’

      He was frowning at her, bless him. He did try so hard to let her be herself. Maude knew she was indulged, far beyond what most single young women of her background were. And she knew too that her position meant that what would be condemned as outrageously fast if done by, say, the daughter of an obscure baronet, could be carried off with dash by the daughter of an earl.

      ‘What about your charity work?’ Lord Pangbourne asked. ‘Are Lady Belinda’s wounded soldiers no longer absorbing your time?’

      ‘Of course, I have a committee meeting this afternoon. But it is hardly a full-time occupation, Papa.’

      ‘And the Season will soon be in full swing,’ he pointed out.

      ‘Yes. And neither is that all consuming, at least, not during the day. I like to be busy, Papa, and to use my brain.’

      ‘I would like it if you just stood still long enough for a nice young man to catch you,’ Lord Pangbourne said with a sigh. ‘I suppose you want me to say that Benson should call on this manager chap—Hurst, is it?—and suggest a basis for your investment.’

      ‘Yes, Mr Hurst. But I have already called upon him and proposed my scheme.’

      His lordship choked