the retiring-room door.
‘Cousin Tallie, may I ask you something?’
It was William, appearing at her side as though by magic. Tallie blinked at him, still too shaken by what had just taken place to focus properly. ‘William? Not you as well? It is too much!’
Chapter Twenty
Nicholas sauntered casually out of the retiring room just in time to see Tallie turn from William, fumble in her reticule for her handkerchief and disappear into the sitting-room which had been set aside for ladies.
He laid a none-too-gentle hand on his cousin’s shoulder. ‘And just what have you said to Tallie to upset her?’
‘Damned if I know,’ William retorted defensively. ‘All I said was that there was something I wanted to ask her and she said, “Not you as well? It is too much” or some such nonsense. Then her eyes filled up with tears and off she bolted!’ He looked aggrieved. ‘I only wanted to ask her to dance the boulanger. I know I’m not that good a dancer, but no one has ever burst into tears before when I asked them.’
Nick eyed the firmly closed leaves of the sitting-out-room door, a faint and uncharacteristic line forming between his brows. ‘I suspect she thought you were about to propose.’
‘Propose? Propose what?’ William crooked a finger at a passing waiter, secured a glass of champagne, then choked on the first sip. ‘Not marriage?’
‘Hmm.’ Was that what Tallie thought? That there was a family plot for one of them to marry her because she had been compromised and if she did not marry him, then his cousin would step into the breach?
He regarded William, who was coughing indignantly, and administered a sharp slap on the back. ‘Stop that racket. Is it so surprising? I’ve been dinning into her the fact that she has been compromised and will have to marry someone.’
‘Well, why isn’t she marrying you?’ William enquired in a whisper, casting a hasty glance round to see if anyone had noticed their conversation. ‘You compromised her. And she’s in love with you.’
‘What?’ Nick thundered, fortunately under cover of the opening chords of the boulanger, then dropped his voice hastily. ‘Of course she isn’t. If she were, she wouldn’t have turned me down.’ Or given me such an effective summing up of my thoroughly unsatisfactory character, he thought grimly. His mind flinched at the memory of her bitingly expressed opinions—cold, controlling, aloof, amused at the antics of lesser mortals. Apparently pleasant enough to kiss.
William gave an unmannerly snort of disbelief. ‘The pair of you are going about like April and May, for goodness’ sake!’ Nick regarded him incredulously. ‘Very well, not quite like that, I suppose, but one can feel it in the air when the two of you are together. A certain something.’
‘What you can feel is irritation on my part and wilful bad temper and obstinacy on hers.’ And enough erotic attraction to light kindling, Nick ruefully acknowledged. Could Tallie possibly be in love with him? Surely not, or why on earth refuse him? He shook his head as though shaking off an irritating fly. William was hardly a connoisseur of the tender passions—paying him any heed on the subject was madness.
And if anyone was running mad it was Nicholas Stangate, Lord Arndale. He had given himself two weeks to change Tallie’s mind and now he was even further from understanding that mind than he had been at seven o’clock that morning. Damn it, was it only that morning that she’d lain in his arms, in his bed? He felt his body tightening at the memory and trampled ruthlessly on the recollection of soft, warm, naked … ‘Boiled fish.’
‘What?’
God, he was losing his mind if that was the best he could do to conjure up the most unerotic thought possible. ‘Never mind, I was thinking aloud. Best go and find Aunt Kate and tell her Tallie is not feeling well. She’ll probably want to take her home.’
William began to weave his way through the guests. Nick was vaguely conscious of him leaving, but his eyes stayed on the closed door of the sitting-out room. Provokingly independent, charmingly outrageous, worryingly courageous. All those descriptions fitted Talitha Grey. Marriage to her would certainly never be boring. His involuntary smile faded at the memory of the handkerchief she had held to her eyes as she vanished into the room. He had never seen her cry before, surely? Oh, yes, he had, he recalled with a pang of conscience. Once when he had knocked the breath out of her and once when some sharp remark he had made had caused her eyes to fill with bravely suppressed tears. At the thought of her distress something tightened hard in the pit of his stomach. Had he been harassing her? Pushing her too far? Or was it just that the last twenty-four hours were enough to undermine the spirits of anyone, however resolute?
Tallie sniffed resolutely and waved away the sal volatile that Miss Harvey, a fellow débutante, was helpfully attempting to press into her hand. ‘Thank you, no, I am quite all right. It was just that someone stood on my toe—so very painful! I quite thought he had broken it, and my eyes were watering. No, no, I assure you, you are most kind …’
Would the wretched girl never go away? Tallie wiped her eyes, smiled with more than a hint of gritted teeth and at last, thankfully, Miss Harvey turned away, only to swing round at the door with renewed offers of assistance.
‘No, nothing you can do. So kind of you …’ And it was kind, Tallie acknowledged to herself. And poor William had probably meant nothing more than to ask her to dance, or if she wanted a drink. Her nerves were on edge, she was overtired, that was all. In the morning after a good night’s sleep all would be in proportion again. Nicholas would accept his congé with good grace, Aunt Kate would stop worrying and she could slip away down to Putney to see Zenna’s proposed schoolhouse for a few days’ peace and quiet. Then she could return and spend the last weeks of the Season enjoying herself before slipping quietly out of Society for ever.
‘Talitha dearest, whatever is the matter!’ It was Lady Parry, all of a flutter, waving aside the attendant and seizing Tallie’s hands in hers as she plumped down on the sofa next to her.
‘Nothing, Aunt Kate, I am just a little tired, that is all.’
‘I should never have agreed to this madcap scheme of Nicholas’s, not so soon after … after last night. You must be emotionally drained, you poor child. Come along, I have told William to order up the carriage; we’ll send it back for the men later and they can stay and play cards and flirt to their hearts’ content. Why they do not flag with exhaustion I do not know—I am quite worn out.’
‘Possibly because you do not stay abed until past noon the next day, ma’am,’ Tallie suggested lightly. She would raise the idea of a trip to Putney on their way back, then she could try to sleep, at least knowing that was settled.
Clucking under her breath at the indolent and dissipated ways of modern young men, Lady Parry swept Tallie out of the sitting-out room and scanned the crowds. ‘Goodness knows where Agatha Mornington has got to—probably flirting with the Lord Chief Justice.’
‘Surely not?’ Despite herself Tallie was entertained at the thought.
‘Well, they do say she had an affaire with him in their youth,’ Lady Parry confided, then recalled to whom she was speaking and added firmly, ‘All silly gossip, of course. Now, where has William got to?’
At
