From London With Love: Disgrace and Desire / The Captain and the Wallflower

‘Well?’ Jack waited until the butler had withdrawn before speaking. ‘Is it another demand? What does he say?’

She handed it to him.

‘You had best read it.’

Jack ran his eyes over the paper.

‘So he wants to meet with you.’

‘Yes, but at Vauxhall Gardens. That will be very different from Hampstead Heath.’

‘But even more dangerous. Much easier for a villain to lose himself in a crowd than on a lonely heath.’

‘He does not ask for more money,’ she said hopefully. ‘Perhaps he means to give me back the book.’

Jack frowned. ‘I think it more likely that he has other demands to make of you.’ He gave her the letter. ‘He does not expect an answer: the fellow is very sure of himself, damn his eyes!’ He began to pace about the room. All thoughts of abandoning Eloise had disappeared. ‘We will need to use your carriage, ma’am, and I think it would be useful to have your groom and my man there. We could send them on ahead of us: they will not look out of place in the crowd; one sees all sorts at Vauxhall. We have a few days to prepare…’

‘We?’ She raised her brows at him. ‘I told you I do not want your help, Major, and I thought we had agreed I do not deserve it!’

Jack stared at her, unwilling to admit even to himself why he was so determined not to leave her to her fate.

‘Allyngham saved my life,’ he said curtly. ‘I owe it to his memory to help you and to protect his name.’

‘Whatever you may think of me?’

‘Whatever I may think of you!’

Chapter Five (#ulink_75638675-07fd-5f2a-9793-184be3618b18)

Eloise looked around the crowded ballroom. The plans were laid: tonight, very publicly, she was to invite Jack Clifton to escort her to Vauxhall. She experienced a sudden spurt of anger towards the unknown letter-writer: if it were not for him it would not be necessary for her to attend another glittering party. Lord Berrow was adamant that he could not sell her Ainsley Wood, so there was no reason for her to remain in London, and with Alex away she would much rather have returned to Allyngham than be walking alone into a crowded ballroom, knowing that nearly every man present would be turning lustful eyes towards her. She shivered: any one of them could be her villain.

‘My dear Lady Allyngham, you are looking charming this evening, quite charming!’ Lord Berrow was at her side, beaming and offering her his arm. ‘And no Mr Mortimer to escort you.’

‘He is gone into Hertfordshire,’ she responded. ‘But I expect him back very soon.’

She tried to smile, but the idea that any one of her acquaintances could have the diary had taken hold of her mind and she could not relax.

‘Excellent, then you must allow me to take his place: can’t have such a pretty little thing unattended.’ He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘I know what you are thinking: Lady Berrow is happily engaged with our hostess for the moment, and I know she will not begrudge me a turn about the room with a pretty woman, eh?’

She felt a tiny flicker of amusement at the Earl’s behaviour. He puffed out his chest and strutted beside her, showing her off to his friends as if she was a prize he had won. However, it was not long before she began to find his rather self-centred conversation quite tedious, and it was with relief that she spotted Major Clifton. He made no effort to approach and at length she excused herself prettily from Lord Berrow, who squeezed her arm and invited her to come back and join him whenever she wished.

Eloise moved off but immediately found her way blocked by a stocky figure in an amethyst-coloured coat and white knee-breeches.

‘Lady Allyngham.’ Sir Ronald Deforge bowed his pomaded, iron-grey curls over her hand. ‘A delightful surprise: I was afraid you had left town.’

She gave him a smooth, practised answer.

‘Why should I wish to do that, when so many friends remain?’

‘But you said, the other night, that you were tired of town life.’

‘Did I?’ She managed a laugh. ‘Let us ascribe that to low spirits, Sir Ronald. I am perfectly happy now, I assure you.’

She walked away, making for the refreshment table, where she observed Major Clifton filling a cup from one of the large silver punch-bowls.

‘You cannot know the happiness it gives me to hear you say that,’ declared Sir Ronald, following her.

Eloise paid him no heed: she was watching Jack as he continued to fill his cup: she was sure he had seen her, but unlike every other gentleman in the room, who would have been at her side at the slightest invitation, he was studiously avoiding her eye. Stifling her irritation, she approached the table. Sir Ronald sprang forwards.

‘Let me help you to a cup of punch, ma’am.’

Jack looked around, as if aware of her presence for the first time.

‘Good evening, Major Clifton.’

‘My lady.’

His slight bow was almost dismissive. Her eyes narrowed.

Deforge handed her a cup. ‘Your punch, Lady Allyngham.’

She thanked him but turned away almost immediately to make it plain she had no further need of his company. As Sir Ronald questioned one of the servants about the ingredients of the punchbowl, she moved a little closer to Jack.

‘A delightful crush tonight, is it not, Major?’ she said, smiling.

‘Delightful.’

His response was polite but hardly encouraging. She reached past him to pick up the ladle and add a little more punch to her cup.

‘Are you avoiding me, sir?’ she asked him quietly. ‘Perhaps you do not wish to continue with our plan?’

A smile tugged at the corners of his mobile mouth.

‘Of course I do,’ he murmured. He took the ladle from her hand, brushing her gloved fingers with his own. ‘Allow me, my lady.’

She carried the refilled cup to her lips, watching him all the time. His smile grew. He turned slightly so that no one else could hear him.

‘Well, madam? You must invite me to go with you to Vauxhall.’

Indignation swelled within her as she noted the wicked glint in his eye: he was enjoying this!

She raised her voice a little. ‘Have you thought any more about Vauxhall, sir? I should very much like to visit the gardens on Tuesday, if you will escort me.’

He seemed to consider the matter.

‘Tuesday…I think I could be free that evening.’

Eloise seethed. Her smile became glacial.