Название | The Complete Regency Surrender Collection |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Louise Allen |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon e-Book Collections |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474085182 |
‘You are very quiet,’ Stephen commented as he drove his curricle into Hyde Park at five o’clock the following day.
‘Sorry,’ Matthew replied. ‘I was wondering how long it would be before the rest of the family arrive in town.’
It was not a lie; he had been wondering what their response to his letters would be. His family hadn’t been uppermost in his mind, though.
He had called at Eleanor’s house in Upper Brook Street, determined to make amends for the night before, only to be informed by Pacey that the ladies were walking in the park. A short time later, Stephen had driven past—on his way to the park—and taken Matthew up.
‘Not long, I should imagine, although I would hazard a guess our father will come on his own at first,’ Stephen said. ‘How will you play it?’
Matthew shrugged, his gaze skimming the clusters of walkers, searching. ‘I’m not sure yet,’ he replied absently. ‘I suppose it will depend on his attitude. I am looking forward to seeing Mama and the girls, though.’
Not only was Sarah now wed, and a mother, but Caroline was to make her bow to society next spring. Little Caro...all grown up. How strange to find their lives had moved on without him. He had much catching up to do.
His heart gave a sudden lurch; speaking of catching up, there was his quarry. Eleanor, stylishly clad in a peacock-blue walking dress, with ivory spencer and bonnet, was strolling with Lady Rothley, who was leaning on the arm of a slight, very upright gentleman. As Matthew watched, they stopped to speak to another group walking in the opposite direction.
‘Hey!’ Stephen nudged Matthew. ‘You need to clean out your ears, little brother. That’s twice I’ve asked you the same question.’
Matthew tore his attention from Eleanor. ‘Sorry. Wool-gathering. What was it?’
‘I asked you what had grabbed your attention over there, but I’ve worked it out for myself. The Baroness Ashby? Are you serious?’
Matthew glared at his brother. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘Whoa, there. Don’t raise your hackles at me.’ Stephen reined his pair to a halt a short distance from the group that included Eleanor. ‘It was no reflection on the lady’s charms. Look, Matt, you’ve only just arrived in town, so I’ll drop you a hint. Don’t set your sights on that particular lady. She’s only been in town a week or so herself, but already she’s been declared the Catch of the Season, despite her age. The deuce knows how she’s still single, with all that wealth...those northerners must be a group of slowtops not to have fixed their interest with her by now. And it’s not just the money...her husband will have the right to sit in the Lords on her behalf, you know. The Betting Book at White’s is already filling up with wagers as to which lucky fellow will breach her defences first.’
‘I am well aware of her circumstances,’ Matthew growled, his muscles rigid. ‘We met on the road to London.’
Stephen whistled. ‘Did you now...you kept that very quiet. Well, well. Thinking of donning leg shackles, are you?’
‘No!’ Matthew hauled in a breath. He must tell Stephen the truth, or he would end up drawing his cork. ‘My sole concern is for her safety.’ He recounted the circumstances of his meeting with Eleanor and his discovery of the danger she was in.
‘Nasty business,’ Stephen said. ‘You’ll be hard put to protect her on your own, though. I’ll pass the word to some of the other fellows—only the ones I can trust—and tell them to keep an eye out for any ne’er-do-wells sniffing around.’
‘Ha! Plenty of them to be found, but not necessarily ones intent on killing her.’
‘Uh-oh...do I detect a sour note, little brother? Seems to me you’ve developed a soft spot for the lady. It won’t do, you know. You’d never stomach a wife that much richer than you, not with that stiff-necked pride of yours.’
Matthew jumped out of the curricle, ignoring his brother’s knowing smirk.
Let him think what he pleases.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he said.
‘Keep that heart of yours well fenced, Mattie,’ Stephen called after him. ‘I can see it from here...glowing on your sleeve.’
Stephen’s laughter faded as he drove away and Matthew grimaced. Had he really lamented the loss of his brother’s banter and company all these years?
Matthew thrust Stephen from his mind as he approached Eleanor, who stood apart from the rest of the group, talking with a fashionably dressed lady whose back was to Matthew. Eleanor’s eyes widened momentarily when she saw him and her lips firmed before her gaze slid on past him. Other than that, she gave no sign of recognition.
Matthew reached the pair just in time to hear Eleanor’s companion—whom he now recognised as Emily Cowper, one of the influential patronesses of Almack’s—saying, ‘From what dear Lady Rothley has told me, it seems you had a horrid time of it during your first Season, my dear. Let me take your name to the Committee and see what I can do.’
Here was a fortunate coincidence. Eleanor could hardly cut him dead in front of her ladyship, not without risking that all-important voucher. He smiled at Eleanor and lifted his hat.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Ashby. We meet again.’
She managed a wintry smile. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Damerel. Have you met Lady Cowper?’
‘I have not yet had that honour.’
‘Lady Cowper—Mr Matthew Damerel.’
‘Charmed, my lady.’ Matthew bowed, summoning his most winning smile.
Lady Cowper’s cheeks took on a pink hue. ‘Goodness me, yet another stranger in our midst—we are being spoilt this year. Where have you been hiding yourself all these years, sir?’
‘Oh, I was a wicked youth, my lady... I have no doubt you were well protected from the likes of me. Alas, as a third son, I needs must earn a living and have lived in India for several years past.’
‘Well, I am pleased to make your acquaintance now, Mr Damerel. You were pointed out to me last night, but you disappeared before I was able to gain an introduction.’ She smiled teasingly at him. ‘Infamous behaviour, sir.’
‘I am mortified, dear lady. Had I but known of your presence, I would most certainly have contrived an introduction. Now we are old friends, however, I shall have no compunction in begging a dance the next time I see you, for I have it on good authority there is no other lady in the ton so light on her feet.’
‘You, sir, are a shameless flatterer, but I shall look forward to it. Oh! There is Lord Plymstock. Please do excuse me, for I have something I most particularly want to say to him. I shall do what I can for you, Lady Ashby. Goodbye.’
Eleanor watched her leave. ‘Well,’ she said, without so much as a glance at Matthew. ‘I had no idea you could act the flirt so convincingly, sir.’
He lowered his voice. ‘I know how much gaining approval for Almack’s means to you, Eleanor. It cannot hurt to keep the lady sweet.’
A muscle in her jaw clenched and she lowered her gaze to study the ground.
‘I owe you an apology. For the things I said last night,’ Matthew said.
‘Which things, precisely?’ She glanced around, then pierced him with an unforgiving glare. ‘Do you mean you do not consider me stubborn? Or infuriating?’
A short laugh burst unbidden from his lips. ‘By Jupiter, you get right to the point, don’t you? My choice of words was poor. My apology is more for my behaviour than for the things I said. And, more importantly, for not telling you the truth of my identity beforehand—although, in my defence, I did try.’
‘You