A Date with Dishonour

Maude Chapman was very much hoping he would look elsewhere. The woman was feeling giddy with excitement, but she knew such an opportunity was unlikely to ever again present itself so took heart and a deep breath. While introductions to Dolly’s nieces were underway, she tugged Fiona and Verity forwards, one either side of her, to ensure the viscount was aware there were four spinsters present.

Abruptly depriving Mr Whittiker of Fiona’s company had put the fellow’s nose out of joint—Maude noted he was looking exceptionally sulky, but gave it little heed. There had been no talk yet of an engagement and Maude was glad about that as she watched the viscount paying courteous attention to her girls. Although Maude wanted her eldest wed before she got any older, in truth she knew the idea of having James as a son-in-law would be hugely disappointing. The niceties over, she dejectedly noticed the viscount’s eyes straying again to Elise Dewey and inwardly sighed. Mr Whittiker might have to do if Fiona were not to sit for ever on the shelf...

‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

The whispered words made Elise snap her unblinking gaze back to Verity. She forced a smile. ‘Do I?’

‘He is rather gorgeous,’ Verity said with a light chuckle, ‘But please don’t swoon even if he does stare at you.’

‘I won’t swoon over him, I assure you,’ Elise announced hoarsely, having brought some of her shock under control. But still she sensed her heart racing and moisture was dampening her clenched palms.

She wished he’d not made his attention to her quite so obvious. But he wouldn’t betray her antics earlier that evening, she reasoned. He’d hardly behaved well and wouldn’t want his part in the risible drama disclosed any more than would she. He and his friend Mr Best—suddenly Elise shot an enlightened glance at Hugh Kendrick and inwardly groaned. Of course! A fellow with no prospects to look forward to might be grateful for a spinster’s few thousand pounds. Elise let her eyes travel on to her sister, noticing, with no satisfaction, that Bea seemed on sparkling form as she chattered away to Hugh.

‘Will you come with me to join the other ladies and get closer to his lordship?’

Verity’s teasing words penetrated Elise’s troubled thoughts.

‘It might be the only chance I get to bask in such exalted company and be the envy of every lady here this evening,’ Verity continued on a theatrical sigh. ‘Miss Clemence’s mama has been sending us daggers for ten minutes or more.’ Verity inclined her head at a sweet-faced brunette, chaperoned by her mother. Caro Clemence had recently made her come out and was expected to do very well in this Season’s marriage mart.

‘Go ahead and join them all,’ Elise urged ruefully. ‘I intend to go and keep your papa company. I have hardly exchanged a word with him all evening.’ Elise had noticed that Mr Chapman was on his own now James Whittiker had sidled off to eavesdrop on conversations.

Anthony Chapman was feeling happier now he was free of Fiona’s beau’s tedious company. He could tell the fellow was irked at having been thoroughly cast into the shade by the arrival of two handsome young bucks. Anthony remained unruffled at the sight of his wife and the other middle-aged ladies fluttering more feverishly about the charming fellows than were the youngsters. He was aware Maude was anxious to find husbands for their girls. But Anthony knew that if his wife’s aspirations now included Alex Blackthorne she was clutching at straws. He was utterly out of their league in that respect and, in Anthony’s opinion, was merely being polite in coming over to renew his acquaintance with Hugh’s aunt. Anthony expected both gentlemen would take themselves off quite soon, although young Kendrick did seem partial to the older Dewey sister, and, in turn, Beatrice seemed to have taken to him.

As for the viscount, Anthony had spotted him earlier with the pretty little lady he was rumoured to have recently set up in style. No sane fellow would leave Celia Chase at a loose end for too long. She was reputed to have a circle of gallants drawn from the finest Mayfair addresses. Anthony had not heard that Blackthorne was on the lookout for a wife and, when he did decide to get an heir, the fellow’s connections and bank balance would make a duke delighted to have him come calling on his daughter.

‘We have turned into a lively gathering,’ Mr Chapman greeted Elise’s arrival at his side with that cheery comment.

‘Indeed we are lucky,’ Elise said, attempting to sound sincere as her eyes glided over the saturnine features of a man who held the power to destroy her life. ‘But...it is a shame that the entertainment is drawing to a close.’ She glanced at the podium where the musicians were starting to pack away their instruments.

‘Perhaps we may have entertainment of a different sort,’ Anthony remarked with mild humour. He nodded to where a gaggle of ladies were stealthily approaching their party. ‘I could have sworn my wife told me Mrs Porter cut her dead in Baldwin’s fabric emporium the other day.’ His head vibrated in feigned surprise. ‘Yet it looks as though the woman and her friends are now desirous of catching Maude’s eye. I wonder why that might be?’

Elise chuckled—she found Mr Chapman’s amusing manner relaxing. Several young women had joined Mrs Porter and her cronies, hovering on the perimeter of their circle hoping for an opportunity to butt in and draw the viscount’s notice. Mrs Porter’s patience expired and she tapped Maude on the shoulder, then squeezed a place beside her. Her friends began delicately elbowing some space, too.

‘I imagine the hour is getting quite late,’ Elise remarked. She glanced up at a crescent moon shimmering in a starlit sky of navy blue. Despite the danger in which she had foolishly placed herself earlier she had to admit it had been an exciting evening. Viscount Blackthorne, as she now knew him to be, might forget her before he reached home that night, but she would never be able to put him from her mind, or what he’d done to her. Heat stole into her cheeks at the memory of a sensual mouth moving on hers, of cool night air on her skin as he bared her body to his hands. And tomorrow, she inwardly scolded, when you are sane once more, you will realise just how much you risked for that sordid thrill.