no, I am quite sure it was promised to me,’ Jack said, his mouth quirking at the corners. ‘If I am wrong, I shall apologise, of course.’
‘I think you have been very wicked to steal another gentleman’s dance, sir.’ Lucy’s eyes sparkled at him. She feigned annoyance, but she could not prevent a little smile tugging at her mouth. ‘However, I shall forgive you, because you dance the waltz divinely.’
‘Thank you, Miss Lucy,’ he said. ‘I believe we are sufficiently acquainted for me to use your first name? After all, I can claim a prior friendship, can I not?’
Lucy shook her head at him. He was not the first gentleman to tease her that evening, and she was discovering that it was amusing to be teased and to tease in return.
‘I am not sure it was friendship, sir, for you left Marlbeck without saying goodbye to me.’
‘That was remiss of me,’ Jack said. ‘However, I shall do my best to make up for it. Will you allow me to take you driving in the park tomorrow afternoon?’
‘I have an appointment for the afternoon,’ Lucy told him. ‘But I shall be pleased to accompany you in the morning—at eleven, if you wish?’
‘Will you not be too tired after an evening such as this?’
‘Not at all,’ Lucy assured him. ‘I like to go out early and it is better to be taken for a drive in town, because I cannot venture out alone and Mama does not rise early.’
‘Then I shall be delighted to call for you at eleven o’clock precisely,’ Jack said, smiling down at her. He looked rueful as the music ended. ‘I think I must return you to your friends—but may I ask if there is another dance available later?’
‘I have only one,’ Lucy told him, ‘and I think I must give that to Mr Bates. It is only fair that he should have it.’
‘Then perhaps you will allow me to take you into supper?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Lucy said. ‘You are very kind, sir. I shall look forward to your company.’
Lucy was duly returned to her court, where another gentleman immediately claimed her. A smile and the promise of the waltz before supper pacified Mr Bates, and Lucy was led back to the dance floor. Jack Harcourt stood watching for a moment before moving away. Some of the older gentlemen had found themselves a niche in the card room, and it was there that he saw Sir Frederick Collingwood. However, Collingwood shook his head as he lifted an eyebrow.
‘I do not play this evening, Harcourt. However, I shall give you your chance to recover—tomorrow, if you wish?’
‘I have an engagement tomorrow,’ Jack said. ‘Shall we say next Tuesday?’
‘Yes, that will suit me well,’ Collingwood said, a sneer on his lips. ‘What do you think of the latest rage? They are calling her a sylph and an enchantress. She is a pretty little thing—do you think she has much of a fortune?’
‘I think she has something,’ Jack replied, looking grim. ‘But I doubt it would be enough to interest you, Collingwood.’
‘No, I thought not,’ Collingwood said. ‘A pity, because she is a tempting little morsel. I should enjoy gobbling her up—but I dare say she cannot be had without marriage, and I need an heiress of some substance.’
Jack swallowed his anger with difficulty. The idea of Lucy Horne at this devil’s mercy was enough to make his stomach turn, but he could not afford to offend him…yet. Given a free hand, he might have called him out on the spot, but he held his tongue. The time would come…
‘I dare say her mother has other ideas,’ he drawled, a hint of insolence in his voice. ‘You would not stand a chance, my dear fellow.’
‘Neither would you,’ Collingwood retorted, stung by his tone. ‘If what I hear is true, you are not one to call others black.’
‘But is it?’ Jack replied still in that insolent drawl. ‘The trouble with whispers and rumours is that one never knows quite what to believe—and yet sometimes it is as well to heed them.’
He turned away, leaving Collingwood to his contemplation of the gaming. No doubt he was watching in the hope of picking a pigeon ripe for plucking on another occasion. Returning to the ballroom, he stood and watched Lucy dancing for a few minutes, before approaching a widow he knew quite well.
‘Good evening, Lady West,’ he said. ‘How pleasant to see you here. Do you dance?’
‘Why, yes, sir,’ she said and smiled at him. ‘As you see, I am out of mourning and life goes on, does it not?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ he said and offered her his hand. It would not do to let others think that he wished to dance only with Lucy Horne. Especially when someone like Sir Frederick Collingwood was present. He was not sure how he felt about anything just yet and for the moment he would play his cards close to his chest.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
