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Accidentally, Love
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Текст книги "Accidentally, Love"


Автор книги: Kate Harper



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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 11 страниц)


Chapter Five

‘But I never faint,’ Audrey muttered rather plaintively, her head against the pillows as she eyed her mother doubtfully. She wasn’t sure what had happened. All she could really recall was a ridiculous hallucination in which Mr. Kirkwood had walked into the room, which was clearly quite absurd. What on earth was the matter with her, carrying on in such a manner? ‘Did I truly do so, Mama?’

‘You did,’ Lady Hathaway assured her, eyes shrewd as she studied her daughter’s face. ‘And you still look rather pale. Do you feel ill?’

Did she? Audrey tried to recap, turning her attention to her wayward body. There was an unpleasant, nagging feeling in the back of her mind, a sense of something enormous waiting there, ready to pounce but she did not know precisely what it was and she did not think she wanted to know. Instead she focused all of her concentration on her physical state and found nothing untoward. She certainly did not feel ill. There was none of the unnatural heat she had suffered when she’d contracted a fever last year.

‘Really,’ she said crossly, ‘I cannot imagine why I fainted.’

‘You gave us all a dreadful fright,’ Isabella, on the other side of the bed, sounded anxious. She, too, looked as if she had sustained a shock and Audrey felt a little niggle of guilt, despite the fact that she had no idea what was wrong with her. ‘People do not faint for no reason, dearest. I’m afraid our new arrival received quite a shock.’

Audrey stilled at this. In fact, it felt as if her heart also stilled at her sister’s words. ‘Our… new arrival?’ Surely not! That had not been real. That could not have been real… She had imagined that Kirkwood had walked through that door. Months of wondering about him and then the arrival of Lord Allingham had momentarily overset her rationality.

Surely…

‘He was like the hero in the novel I’m reading,’ Millie observed from the foot of the bed. Naturally, all of her female relatives had gathered to ensure she was well and Audrey knew nothing would have kept Millie away. ‘Tall and brooding and darkly handsome, as Mrs. Radcliffe likes to say. Quite a lot, I must admit. It’s a habit of hers. He even acted like the hero, scooping you up in his arms the way he did. One minute he was walking in the door, the next he was picking you up as if you were as light as a feather. It was rather impressive, wasn’t it, Belle?’

‘Very impressive,’ Isabella agreed with a smile.

Audrey stared at her youngest sister for a moment, before removing her gaze to her mother once more. ‘Mama?’ she inquired in a small voice. That thing at the back of her mind and the sense of impending doom deepened.

‘It’s quite all right, my dear,’ her mother said soothingly. ‘We’ve actually met the gentleman, although it was some months ago. He introduced himself at Almack’s. Lord Allingham’s brother. Do you recall him?’

Ice trickled through her veins. Only as well as she remembered to breathe… She made herself do so now, before asking the inevitable question.

‘He is here?’

‘Indeed,’ Isabella said wryly. ‘His brother is far from pleased. I fear things are liable to be uncomfortable until we can all escape but he did not offer much hope of that. The road back to London is quite dreadful if we were fool enough to think of returning there. Which we aren’t, Little Paddocks being so close.’

Uncomfortable… Isabella could have no idea how true that was likely to be! Deprived of the reassuring fantasy that her mind had been temporarily disarrayed, Audrey was faced with the unpalatable truth that Roderick Allingham was only the second man in all of England that she had not particularly wished to encounter. Kirkwood outshone him effortlessly and she did not know how she was ever going to go back downstairs and face him.

‘He c-carried me?’ she stumbled over the words and the concept of being held in his arms again, even if she had not been sensate at the time.

‘Up the stairs,’ Isabella agreed, ‘and with a look on his face that would do justice to the wearisome men Millie was discussing in Mrs. Radcliff’s offerings. He beat both Harry and Lord Allingham to you, although to be fair, they were quite taken aback that you had fainted. Mama had to practically push him out the door when he brought you up here.’

‘Oh.’ It was all she could think of saying. Indeed, her head was suddenly going round and round, swamped with thoughts she could not hope to tame into some semblance of coherence. Kirkwood was here, under the same roof as she was. And, as he was trapped here just as they all were, it was inevitable she would see him again. Her heart hammered like a drum at the prospect.

‘You have no fever,’ her mother said now, considering Audrey with thoughtful eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, my love?’

‘Perfectly. I think I am just very tired,’ Audrey said, attempting to rally. This would never do. She had no desire for her mother and sisters to guess that the arrival of Mr. Kirkwood had had such a profound effect on her. It was equally important that he did not think so, either. She had been forced to revise her ideas on Mr. Kirkwood’s attitude on that second meeting for he had seemed extraordinarily intense and quite oblivious, once again, to the proprieties. She shivered, remembering his seductive intensity upon that occasion and her own helpless reaction to it.

Oh dear…

‘Would you like to have tray in your room?’ Isabella suggested. ‘Dinner is sure to be ghastly. Allingham doesn’t seem to care for his half-brother in the least and I am sure that Lady Allingham will be far from pleased to see Kirkwood here. I have heard that she does not care for her… ah… stepson.’

Audrey hesitated. A tray in her room would keep her out of harm’s way for the evening. She need not see Kirkwood at all. Indeed, if she wished she could probably remain upstairs in this bedchamber until it was time to leave, thereby allowing her to avoid any awkward – from her point of view – encounters with the man. But I have wanted to see him so badly, if only to store further memories for the future, she reflected sadly. He was to be her great secret, she knew it already. The man that she would think of for all the long years to come, wondering what it would have been like if she had allowed him to seduce her. She recalled the way in which her knees had gone weak at the sight of him when they had met in Hyde Park. She had hardly believed her eyes when she had looked up and found him so close, her fantasy made real. The abstraction had cleared from those dark eyes, replaced with a sudden, predatory gleam that had left her feeling breathless. In that instant, she had known that nothing had changed between them since that night at Almack’s for all her staunch rationalizations to the contrary. He still wanted her and she… well, it would be pointless to even pretend that she did not want him. She had tried, of course, knowing that she was once again in danger of being compromised. Every tenet of social behavior demanded that she turn immediately and walk away. But of course she had done no such thing, transfixed by the fact that he was standing before her, tempting and quite astonishingly real.

In that moment she had been forced to acknowledge how much she had wanted to see him again. Every fiber of her being longed to drink her fill of him, if only to shore up those precious memories. And now he was here. They were trapped here together. Surely this would be the one and only chance that she would ever have again to look into those dark eyes? His being here was nothing more than another chance occurrence but it was up to her to seize the opportunity. If she dared…

For all that she had foolishly fainted at the sight of him, Audrey knew that she could not let this occasion pass. Desire superseded fear and in the end, the urge to see the man again won out. She knew she would regret it if she remained hiding in her bedchamber.

‘No,’ she said with a faint sigh. ‘I am perfectly well. I shall come down to dinner.’

‘In that case, you’d better get up,’ Millie observed, ‘for Mrs. Fumble has postponed serving but she says the roast lamb won’t wait forever.’

‘Oh well then,’ Audrey murmured, throwing the coverlet to one side. ‘We had best not keep her waiting.’

Besides, she reflected, waiting would surely be a mistake for it could only make what was to come so much worse. She knew she would be perfectly safe, from herself as much as Kirkwood, for her family was with her and if that was not an antidote for passion, nothing would be. She paused before the mirror. It was of poor quality, the surface rippling slightly but she peered into it anyway, fixing her hair and anxiously studying her face. She wished she could change into something a little more elegant but there was no time. Instead, she shook out her skirts and descended the stairs with her mother and sisters, breathing deeply while her heart thundered in anticipation.

They walked into an atmosphere so redolent with tension that Audrey wavered on the threshold of the small dining room. All four of them wavered for a moment, even Millie, for it seemed the air itself felt as brittle as the ice that had formed delicate stalactites beneath the window overhangs outside. One glance told Audrey what was amiss; Lady Allingham was standing rigid before the fireplace, her entire body all but quivering with suppressed fury as she glared at Kirkwood, who seemed indifferent to her fury. In fact, if his demeanor was anything to go by, he seemed positively bored. He lolled against the wall by the window, one hand stuck negligently in his pocket, an expression of sardonic amusement on his face. Harry was sitting at the table, Lady Fielding sitting opposite him. Their faces were carefully blank, a sure indication that all was not going well. Lord Allingham was on his feet, eyes moving between his mother and his half-brother. His mouth was tight and, if his body language was any indication, Audrey deduced that he was profoundly exasperated.

‘I hope we have not held dinner up for too long,’ Lady Hathaway said easily, sensibly electing to ignore the aura of fraught emotion that permeated the room.

Kirkwood looked around quickly, his expression flattening out into one of studied emptiness. Audrey met his eyes and a shiver of awareness ran through her. It was impossible to read anything of great import in that fathomless black stare, but a tingle of something both delicious and dangerous shivered through her. Hastily, she dropped her eyes and concentrated on not falling over her own feet. Collapsing in a heap twice in one evening would be more than awkward.

‘Miss Hathaway,’ Lady Fielding said, rising to her feet and focusing on her with obvious relief. ‘Mr. Carstairs told us that you fainted. Are you feeling all right?’

Audrey forced a smile, ignoring the little voice inside her that insisted she pay attention to a far more important matter. Kirkwood was here. Kirkwood was here. Even now, standing in the same room as him, it hardly seemed possible. ‘Indeed, I am perfectly well now, thank you. I cannot think what came over me. Tiredness, I expect.’

Lady Fielding nodded, as if it was the most perfectly normal thing in the world for a healthy young woman to keel over from tiredness. Perhaps it was, when one was the daughter of a duke.

‘You gave us quite a turn,’ Harry observed wryly, rising to his feet.

‘I am sorry,’ Audrey murmured, taking the first chair that she came to at the table. She gave a sideways glance at Lady Allingham who, after a final fulminating look at Kirkwood, flounced forward to take her own seat at the table.

‘I cannot believe that you are set on being so disobliging, Sir!’ the woman snapped, obviously keen to continue whatever conversation had been taking place before they had entered the room. ‘While I am perfectly aware that you have no desire to oblige me -’

‘You are quite right,’ Kirkwood agreed mildly, moving across to sit next to Audrey. ‘I have absolutely no interest in obliging you, madam.’

Color rose in Lady Allingham’s cheeks and her blue eyes flashed. It suited her, Audrey thought distractedly, horribly aware of the man sitting next to her. Anger put some much -needed fire on Judith Allingham’s smooth coating of ice.

‘I insist you leave this house at once!’ she snapped.

Kirkwood raised an eyebrow. ‘Have you suddenly become the proprietress of a tavern, my dear Judith? Because, unless you have actually purchased this establishment, I am inclined to think you have no right to cast me out of it.’

The breath hissed out of her. ‘If you had even a shred of decency you would leave immediately!’

Kirkwood shrugged, a gesture redolent with mocking insolence. ‘But as you have pointed out, on innumerable occasions, I have none so this is a pointless conversation. Roddy,’ he added, voice bored. ‘Are you going to introduce me to you fiancée or not?’

Allingham, taken aback at finding himself abruptly addressed, flushed a little. ‘Why… why yes, certainly. Beth, this is Darius Kirkwood. Kirkwood, my fiancée, Lady Elizabeth Fielding.’

Kirkwood half rose from his chair and gave a half bow. ‘A pleasure, my dear Lady Fielding.’

‘Mr. Kirkwood,’ Beth murmured. There was an inquisitive look in her eyes. Now that Audrey had an opportunity to look at her properly she saw that the girl appeared much more the thing since her rest. Perhaps she really had been in need of  sleep and was recovered now. She certainly seemed a deal more animated and clearly, she was wondering about the association between the two men, Audrey reflected. Lord Allingham must not have mentioned the existence of his half-brother, although she probably already knew of the connection. Most people seemed to know of it.

‘Do not think to address yourself to my son or his fiancée,’ Lady Allingham said sharply. ‘You have no association with this family.’

‘Is that so?’ Kirkwood switched his enigmatic gaze to Allingham, who flushed again.

‘Mr. Kirkwood is my half-brother,’ he told Beth, an edge to his voice. ‘Mother, I think it would be best if we all try to enjoy our meal and speak of other things. This is hardly the time to be dwelling on our family business.’ He gave Lady Hathaway and her three daughters an apologetic glance. ‘Lady Hathaway, forgive our manners. We are behaving very badly.’ His mother flushed again, looking furious. She was obviously not used to committing social solecisms and resented having an audience.

‘Not at all,’ Eliza Hathaway gave a reassuring smile, just as the door was bumped open by Mrs. Fumble’s rounded hip. She was carrying several platters, which she set down on the table and her husband, who had followed her in, set down several more. Several trips back and forth ensued and before long the guests at The Drunken Maiden found themselves with a very creditable meal before them.

‘How wonderful of you to have managed so much with so little warning,’ Lady Hathaway told her hostess warmly. ‘We count ourselves very fortunate to have come across such a welcoming place.’

Audrey was studying her soup bowl, too nervous to look to her left. It was ridiculous of course. If she were going to stare at her meal without looking up then she might as well have stayed in the bedchamber. But she had not expected him to be quite so close. She caught a hint of his scent, that same one that she had inhaled when he had held her in his arms and it brought back memories that were left for another time; arms wound about her tightly, lips warm and insistent and the feel of his arousal pressed firmly against her… Heat warmed her cheeks and she clenched her hands in her lap, causing her nails to bite into the soft palms. It was a welcome distraction.

‘Miss Hathaway,’ he murmured, ‘May I offer you some bread?’

Audrey looked at the proffered basket and quickly took a piece. ‘Thank you.’

‘I trust you have quite recovered?’

It was a perfectly reasonable question, especially as it had been Kirkwood who had carried her upstairs. The very idea made her flinch inwardly but instead, she fixed a smile in place before turning her head to look at him. She felt it falter a little as the full force of his presence hit her.

‘I…’ she paused, swallowed and tried again. ‘It was nothing, really. Perhaps the heat of the fire…’ the words trailed off. Did one ever faint from the heat of a fire? Especially as the room had not been particularly warm? She certain felt warm enough now and wondered if she might possibly faint a second time. He looked devastatingly good and his mouth – that wretched, clever mouth that could kiss her into mindless insensibility – was very close.

‘The heat of the fire,’ he repeated, with no particular intonation. ‘Of course.’

She struggled to find something else to say but at that point Millie, who had sat on the opposite of them, spoke up. ‘Did you get stuck in the snow too?’

It might have been Audrey’s imagination, but he seemed to look away from her with an effort. ‘Indeed. The weather is foul.’

‘Was it very thick? We’ve decided to go on tomorrow on horseback if it doesn’t start snowing again. Do you think it might?’

‘It was becoming too dark to tell,’ Kirkwood grimaced. ‘I have to say, I was very happy to see the lights of this place appear.’

‘As were we,’ Lady Hathaway agreed, inspecting a bowl of green beans. There was nobody to serve so they were helping themselves. ‘We were worried we’d lose the road completely.’

‘I’m actually surprised there are not more people here,’ Kirkwood admitted. ‘I would have thought there might be more refugees from the storm.’

‘Perhaps they were not foolish enough to continue with their journeys,’ Allingham observed. ‘Or they very sensibly decided not to travel in the first place.’ His mother gave a soft snort but remarkably, she remained silent, which the rest of the room’s occupants took to be a vast improvement. Outraged reticence suited her admirably.

‘Are you visiting people in the area too?’ Millie said doubtfully. ‘They are staying with the Forbes.’ She added, tilting her chin towards the other end of the table. ‘Lord Forbes’ gardeners chased me off the property, one day.’

‘Indeed?’ Kirkwood looked startled. ‘Why did they do that?’

‘My dog liked Lady Forbes’ pugs,’ Millie explained cheerfully. ‘A little too much.’

‘Now Millie,’ Isabella said bracingly, preempting her mother. ‘There is no need to go into details. I’m sure they were delightful puppies, even if they were a little odd looking.’ She met Kirkwood’s inquiring gaze and shrugged. ‘Millie’s dog is a staghound.’

‘A very fine looking one,’ Millie pointed out. ‘Henry would have made lovely puppies. At least they wouldn’t waddle.’

‘Eat your soup,’ Isabella said repressively, ‘before it gets cold.’

Audrey listened to their voices, fixated on the well remembered, dark velvety tones of Kirkwood. When she had pondered their two brief meetings she had wondered if she had imagined the smoky tones of his voice. After all, she had been trying to deal with a sensory overload during their two meetings while attempting to recall all of the reasons why hurrying into his arms and allowing him to kiss her was a bad thing. Those brief few minutes at the park should have felt vastly different than their intimate encounter at Almack’s but she had still been spellbound by the man.

It would be all too easy to fall beneath his spell again for, even in the company of her family, in the modest dining room of this unprepossessing inn, Kirkwood had the same dangerous appeal that she remembered so vividly.

‘In answer to your earlier question, Miss Hathaway,’ he said now. ‘I am going to stay with an old friend. Linus Devonport.’

‘Devonport?’ Lady Allingham repeated, voice rising a little on the word. Audrey looked up and found the woman frowning at Mr. Kirkwood. ‘Sir Linus Devonport?’

‘Indeed, Madam.’

‘But he is advisor to Lord Liverpool.’

‘I am aware of that.’

‘Kirkwood was at Oxford with Sir Linus, Mother,’ Allingham said dryly. ‘They are old friends.’

The look on Judith Allingham’s face was a curious one. It was as if she had not realized her stepson might know respectable people, let alone count them friends.

‘We know the Devonports, of course,’ Isabella said cheerfully. ‘In fact, Meg Devonport is a particular friend. A charming woman.’

‘She certainly is,’ Kirkwood agreed.

Beside him, Audrey tried to banish the sense of unreality that permeated the scene. This was all so normal. Chatting about acquaintances they had in common, as if Kirkwood was simply another gentleman whom they’d come across by chance. She knew better. She knew that he was entirely abnormal in every way. She took several slow, deliberate breaths, trying to calm her jangled senses while she played with the food on her plate.

He is not my one true love. He is not the man I will spend the rest of my life with. But oh, how I wish he were!  The thought made her pause. Until this moment she had not truly considered that Kirkwood might be the man she had been searching for. But what if he was? He could certainly make her forget the world. He had the power to banish everything from her head but the thought of him when he was with her. And she had done nothing but think of him since the night they had met.

It hardly seemed possible. He was nothing like the man she had always envisioned in her head, that perfect man that had been created by the unrealistic dreams of a young girl who had sat dreaming over books and poetry. No, she could not possibly give her heart to a man like Kirkwood...

Could she?

Resolutely, she raised her eyes and found him looking right at her. A thrill of something deliciously forbidden ran through her, so intense that it made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

‘You do not appear to be very hungry tonight, Miss Hathaway,’ he observed softly.

‘No. I am not.’

‘Have you lost your appetite for a reason?’ he inquired.

‘I am just not very hungry. Are you staying in the area long?’ she managed, relieved that she did not sound as breathless as she felt.

‘That very much depends,’ he returned.

‘On what?’

He was silent for a moment and she held her breath, waiting for his answer. ‘On whether or not I find what it is I came here for.’

‘You came here for something in particular?’ Stupid question. Dangerous question. But surely he could not mean that he had come to see her. He did not even know where she lived. Did he? And what would be the point? What did he intend? For, much as she might want him, she could not let him ruin her. Her family would be devastated.

‘I have some business in the area,’ he said blandly. ‘And of course, it will be pleasant to catch up with an old friend.’

‘Of course,’ she murmured. He meant something, of that she was certain. The possibilities made her heart race.

‘Are you sure you are feeling quite well,’ he inquired, voice dropping a little. ‘You appear a little flushed.’

‘I am perfectly well.’

‘You certainly look very well.’ She looked at him, uncertain what to say. He met her eyes and gave a wry smile. ‘I’m sorry my appearance was such a shock.’

He knew why she had fainted. Of course he did. She bit her lip. ‘I had not expected to see you.’

‘Nor I you. Not in this place, anyway.’

Now what did that mean? That he had thought to see her somewhere? She stared at him then realized, with a start of surprise, that Millie was addressing her. She jerked her eyes away, looking across the table at her younger sister. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said, aren’t you going to thank Mr. Kirkwood for carrying you up the stairs?’ Millie repeated. Her moss green eyes were far too perceptive and there was a speculative gleam in them that Audrey did not care for at all. It was always best not to rouse either of her sisters’ curiosity for, once stimulated, it was hard to elude and the last thing she needed was to incur either of her siblings’ interest, especially not Millie’s who was not renowned for her subtlety.

‘Of course,’ Audrey said with as much composure as she could muster. Moistening her lips, she turned back to Kirkwood, who was smiling faintly. ‘I do thank you Sir, for… for your assistance.’ She refused to even contemplate what his assistance had entailed, how he must have scooped her up into his arms and held her close. She needed to collect her wits, not set them flying.

‘Not at all,’ he murmured. ‘Any time, my dear Miss Hathaway.’

She could not allow herself to dwell on the meaning behind those words for it was hard enough to sit next to the man and pretend that everything was normal. It was a difficult enough gathering; full of tension and, on Lady Allingham’s part, acerbic hostility. Beth Fielding excused herself to retire to bed at eight-thirty but Lady Allingham had remained until nine, to the overall detriment of the atmosphere. It was only after she had excused herself that the pressure in the room eased off. Everybody seemed to relax a little. Allingham had looked as if he were going to join her and say goodnight but Millie had distracted him by challenging him to a game of cards.

He’d smiled at her. ‘I am not sure that I would know any of the games you do, Miss Hathaway.’

‘You do not know how to play Whist?’ Millie had inquired sweetly.

‘Oh, do you know how to play that?’

‘A little. Would you like to hazard a small amount of money?’

‘Ware the child,’ Harry had warned Allingham humorously. ‘She has the devil’s own luck. She will fleece you unmercifully.’

His lordship gave Millie a doubtful look. She gave him a beatific smile in return. ‘I’m sure I can manage,’ he said, obviously unwilling to disappoint such a charming young lady. ‘Yes, I would enjoy a few hands if it would help pass the time for you, Miss Hathaway.’

‘Oh excellent. And please, call me Millie,’ Millie said as she dug into the pocket of her gown and produced a small copper coin. She laid it on the table expectantly.

Allingham, eyes twinkling, did the same. ‘A small wager, hmm? To make it interesting.’

Thirty minutes later the man was on his mettle, totally focused on trying to win back some of the money that Millie had wheedled out of him while she continued to gently tease him. It said much about that gentleman’s excellent temperament that he did not give in to temptation and strangle her. Millie could be the most provoking creature possible if the mood was upon her.

Harry had engaged Kirkwood in conversation and they chatted amiably together, Isabella contributing occasionally as she sat with her sewing. Audrey had taken pains to be off to one side, the better to escape participating herself, pretending to sew but really listening to the conversations around her while her body thrummed with an increasingly reckless tension that was exceedingly alarming. But she could not help it. Merely sitting in the same room as Kirkwood gave her a heightened sense of her own body. In fact, she reflected a little hysterically, she could not recall ever sitting over her sewing and feeling so physically aware.

After a time, just as she had known he must, Kirkwood came to her. Rising, he moved to put another log on the fire, then dropped into the chair beside her.

‘Do you recall that evening at Almack’s when we first met,’ he inquired blandly.

She gave him a narrow look. ‘Why yes, I believe I can recall it.’ She was delighted by the cool note in her voice. He was obviously determined to tease her but she would not give him the satisfaction of a flustered response.

‘I don’t, as a matter of course, enjoy such places,’ he observed gently. ‘But I have to admit, I did enjoy myself that night.’

‘Was it the dancing?’ she inquired politely. ‘From what I can recall, the orchestra was quite good.’

‘I cannot recall the orchestra as being anything other than a noise in the background but I will take your word for it.’

‘Darius hardly ever bothers with such things,’ Allingham observed from the table, almost absently. ‘He never has been able to stand a crush.’

This caused Mr. Kirkwood to glance at his brother, a curious expression on his face but he inclined his head. ‘It is quite true. Making polite conversation is not an art I have ever managed to muster.’

‘I believe most men suffer in such a way,’ Isabella observed with a sleepy smile. ‘Harry certainly suffers at such events.’

‘Oh, no,’ he protested. ‘And I thought I was hiding my sad lack of enthusiasm so well.’

‘I love the fact that you try to,’ his wife responded softly.

Kirkwood returned his attention to Audrey. ‘And did you enjoy the rest of the Season?’

‘It was very pleasant,’ she retuned cautiously, wondering if there was a trick to this conversation. ‘And you, Sir? Have you been enjoying your time in town?’

‘I make it a habit of enjoying myself,’ he replied. ‘Although I confess, some pastimes are more pleasurable than others.’

Audrey shifted uneasily, catching a certain note in his voice. Was he implying… just what was he implying? ‘Indeed, Sir? What pastimes do you enjoy the most?’ Even as the words left her mouth, she knew they were a mistake. It sounded very much as if she were asking him something improper.

His dark eyes glinted. ‘Oh, the usual ones, Miss Hathaway. Most men are simple creatures. There are only so many things that can hold our attention for long.’

‘What a refreshingly honest admission!’ Isabella chuckled.

Audrey stared at him, wondering if it were just the mood she was in or if his words really were suggestive. Was he flirting with her? Did he dare in such company? She thought it very likely that Kirkwood would dare anything, if it suited him to do so. Fortunately, Harry claimed him again, rising to pour the men glasses of brandy and she was allowed to subside back into silence, although he had left her with a head full of the most inappropriate thoughts.

After Allingham had thrown down his last hand of Whist in disgust and Millie had pocketed her winnings, his lordship took a chair by the fire. He grimaced at Harry. ‘You are right. She has the most astonishing luck.’

‘It’s irksome, but we have all learned to deal with it. Except for Harry,’ Isabella added, giving her husband a mischievous smile. ‘Poor Harry continues to believe that his luck will change.’


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