Love Affairs. Louise Allen

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must write and confirm the arrangements with Cousin Florence or word would get around that she was living scandalously alone with only the servants to maintain the proprieties and that would just about finish her reputation. Lady Herrick looked around and Laura added hastily, ‘Lady Birtwell is chaperoning me here. I hardly liked to impose another guest on the party when I know I can rely on her.’

      ‘She is a notable matchmaker, our hostess. I have hopes that she will steer someone suitable in the direction of my Emma.’ Lady Herrick nodded in the direction of her daughter, a very shy brunette who was hovering on the fringes of the group of girls.

      ‘There are a number of eligible gentlemen here, certainly.’

      ‘And one for you perhaps, my dear.’ Lady Herrick lowered her voice. ‘Lord Hillinger, perhaps?’

      Lord Hillinger was forty, a widower with two daughters and a passion for racing. His looks were distinguished, his stomach flat, his hair all his own and his fortune large. ‘He is certainly a most eligible gentleman, from what I hear,’ Laura agreed with caution.

      ‘You have not met him? He is a connection of my husband’s family, I will introduce you. See, the gentlemen have returned to us.’ She waved to the third man through the door and he bowed slightly and came over. ‘Max, my dear, may I present you to Lady Laura Campion? Lady Laura, Lord Hillinger.’

      They exchanged greetings and the earl took the chair opposite them and launched into perfectly unexceptionable small talk. Laura reciprocated with half her attention. She could discuss the Prince Regent’s latest building projects in her sleep.

      ‘I’m not certain Nash is the man for the job, though,’ Lord Hillinger remarked. ‘What do you think, Wykeham? Is Nash the man to create what Prinny wants down in Brighton?’

      Laura was sure the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up as Avery’s deep voice came from right behind her. ‘Depends whether Nash can pander to the Regent’s shockingly bad taste. If he can, then he’ll do as dire a job as any architect. If he tries for restraint or elegance, he’ll be out on his ear. He’s got an eye to the main chance though, so no doubt he will prostitute his talents to order.’

      ‘Lord Wykeham!’ Lady Herrick turned with a shake of her head for his choice of words. ‘How nice to see you again. It seems an age since we met at the Congress, does it not? Come and sit down, do.’

      He could hardly refuse, Laura realised, not without being unacceptably rude to the older woman. Avery came round the end of the sofa and took the other armchair in the little conversation-grouping.

      ‘Do you know Lady Laura, Wykeham?’ Lady Herrick was obviously more than happy to introduce Laura to men she would not consider suitable for her own, very young, daughter.

      ‘We are acquainted, yes, ma’am.’ There was nothing but polite acknowledgment in his slight bow to Laura and she flattered herself that no one could read a thing in her careful social smile in return. ‘Do you have an opinion on the planned works to the Pavilion, Lady Laura?’

      ‘They will certainly add to its entertainment value for those who spend the summer in Brighton. Whether it is an aesthetic experience or a circus show remains to be seen. Are you familiar with Brighton, Lord Wykeham?’

      ‘Only on the most fleeting visits when it has been necessary to report to his royal highness. I may consider it for a summer break this year. I imagine my daughter would enjoy the seaside.’

      Beside her Laura felt Lady Herrick stiffen so she kept her voice light. ‘The beach is pebbles, unfortunately. But it is safe for swimming and her governess could take her out in a donkey cart. And there are delightful walks.’

      The older woman relaxed, reassured, presumably, that Laura was not going to faint at the mention of the scandalous love child. ‘Will you excuse me? I see my daughter wishes to speak to me.’ The men rose and then sat again as she swept off.

      ‘And boat trips,’ Laura added, rather desperately. She really did not want to be talking to Avery at all, not in public and certainly not in front of anyone else. ‘And the air is very healthy. Do you not agree, Lord Hillinger?’

      He did not have a chance to respond as a pleasant baritone voice remarked, ‘The air is always healthy and fragrant wherever you are, Lady Laura.’ Mr Bishopstoke dropped into the newly vacated seat beside her. ‘Never tell me you have identified two mythical beasts?’

      ‘Sir!’ Lord Hillinger was looking decidedly put out.

      ‘I beg your pardon, my lord. A little joke Lady Laura and I were sharing, as old friends do. She seeks a husband who is her equal, one who she is neither dominated by, nor can dominate. I tell her that she seeks a mythical beast.’

      ‘I do not find your humour amusing, sir.’ Lord Hillinger got to his feet, favoured Laura with a stiff bow and stalked off.

      ‘Philip, you wretch,’ Laura hissed, unable to look at Avery.

      ‘He is a stuffed shirt, as well to get rid of him for he won’t do for you, my girl. Now you have only got one mythical beast to deal with.’ He flashed his charming, mocking smile at Avery.

      Laura braced herself for Avery’s crushing retort. There was silence. She risked a glance.

      ‘What sort of mythical beast are you imagining?’ Avery asked. He seemed faintly amused. Or perhaps that was simply the smile of a man about to knock another man’s head off. ‘I have wyverns on my coat of arms. Would that suit you, Lady Laura? Wings, scaly legs and a dragon’s head? No doubt it would be a fair contest.’

      ‘My goodness! That sounds like a proposal, Lady Laura.’ Bishopstoke appeared to find his own dubious wit hysterical. ‘Or a deadly insult. Shall I call Wykeham out for you?’

      ‘Do go away, Philip,’ Laura said with acid sweetness. ‘Or you may find that both Lord Wykeham and I will upend our teacups over you.’ He went, chuckling, leaving only Avery for her to be angry with. ‘A fair contest? What kind of creature do you consider me to be, to equal a wyvern?’

      ‘Perhaps they are like unicorns and will lie down at the command of a virgin.’ He watched her from beneath heavy lids, like a big cat contemplating a dead antelope and wondering if it could be bothered to get up and eat it. ‘Or no,’ he added in a low voice that would not reach beyond their little space, ‘that will not work, will it? A mermaid, do you think?’

      Laura knew the symbolism as well as he did. ‘The female embodiment of lust? The creature that lures men to their doom?’ Why did he dislike her so? What was it about her relationship with Piers that seemed to anger him beyond reason? She found her hands were shaking and clenched them in her lap to still them. ‘Sending you to your doom seems very tempting, Lord Wykeham.’

      ‘I would like to see you try.’ He looked completely relaxed, that faint, infuriating smile still curving his lips. Those lips... No one glancing in their direction would guess he was mortally insulting her.

      ‘Then I would be delighted to oblige you, my lord.’ Laura got to her feet, inclined her head and swept over to join the single ladies where she could retrieve the rags of her temper unobserved amongst their self-absorbed gossip.

      Avery Falconer was going to pay for his insults. Just as soon as she worked out how to punish him.

      

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