The Reluctant Viscount. Lara Temple
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Nicholas shrugged.
‘Stranger things have happened. You should keep your eyes open. What was that Jem said about Miss Drake?’
Adam grimaced. For some reason he did not want to discuss her part in what had happened.
‘She came across me just after the fall. She found the rope.’
‘What was she doing out near the Rise?’
Adam pulled the silk pouch out of his pocket.
‘She came to acknowledge but return my apology.’
Nicholas took the pouch and emptied the coin into his palm. His brows rose.
‘No wonder. It’s just a tarnished old coin with some scribbles on it. You’re slipping, Adam. That’s what I call adding insult to injury.’
Adam took back the coin and pouch, shaking his head.
‘What a waste of two years at Oxford, Nick. At least Miss Drake recognised its value. Which was precisely why she returned it.’
‘A young lady of strict principles. Not your type. Pity.’
‘Hardly. Since I have no intention of staying here for more than another week, a flirtation would have been impractical even if she was interested.’
Nicholas raised his brows again.
‘Implying you are?’
Adam remembered the heat that had flowed through him when he had taken her arm. He wondered if it was in part because she insisted on not taking him seriously. He was not used to young women treating him with quite that combination of scolding amusement.
‘Being treated like a schoolboy puts me on my mettle.’
Nicholas laughed. ‘What a masterly tactic on her part. Are you sure she isn’t just playing a deep game?’
‘No such luck. She’s no actress, just outspoken.’ He changed the subject. ‘Did you bring your dancing gear?’
‘Of course. I have to have it on hand when I continue to the family pile in Berkshire. Why?’
‘We are going to an Assembly on Thursday. Everyone who is anyone in Mowbray will be there. Percy certainly. And Ginnie.’
‘She agreed? And Derek will let her come?’
‘I received her letter this morning. She said Derek and the boys will have to survive without her for a week and she will be up by chaise tomorrow. She’ll stay at the Fulton Hotel near the Pump Rooms. Apparently she spent the last two days buying clothes and I had my secretary in London supply her with some very expensive baubles so she can make a grand entrance at the Assembly.’
‘Good old Ginnie. She will enjoy being back on the stage, so to speak. Do you think Percy will take the bait?’
‘Hopefully it will keep him occupied and away from both Miss Drake’s cousin and from me.’
Nicholas laughed and rubbed his hands together cheerfully. ‘And I thought I was going to be bored to tears out here in the country. Next we will be attending Public Teas and playing whist with the dowagers. This is shaping up to be a fine holiday.’
‘What a reception,’ Nicholas murmured appreciatively as they surveyed the Assembly Room and the Assembly Room surveyed them. ‘Reminds me of the time we stumbled into a secret meeting of Thuggees, except that this is perhaps marginally more terrifying. Are you quite certain you didn’t do anything other than try to elope with one of their fair virgins ten years ago? No buried bodies? Alchemy? Necromancy?’
Adam shot him a sardonic look. The ballroom was a slightly smaller copy of the room at the Ship in Brighton. It stood some seventy feet long and was lit by four massive glass chandeliers balancing hundreds of candles. Ten years ago Adam had thought it the epitome of splendour. After years of attending the most sophisticated ballrooms around the world he thought it still held a certain charm and certainly took itself very seriously. He knew Nicholas would milk this for all it was worth.
‘Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?’
‘Of course. Who is that alarming dowager holding court in the corner? She either has a squint or she is giving you the evil eye.’
Adam turned in the direction of Nicholas’s nod.
‘Lady Nesbit. Alarming is right. She is Rowena’s grandmother and the undisputed leader of Mowbray society and the Pump Rooms. I used to think she was the driving force behind the snaring of Lord Moresby, but then I realised it was a joint effort with Rowena.’
‘Ah, I surmise that is the beauty next to her, then. My, she is a delectable piece, matron or not. And I see what you mean—she looks very used to leading the dance. Ah, she’s spotted you, man,’ Nicholas whispered. ‘She’s heading straight towards us!’
Adam frowned. He didn’t really want to deal with Rowena now. He had other fish to fry.
‘Lord Delacort. How nice you could come.’
There was such a wealth of innuendo in Rowena’s proper greeting that Adam smiled grudgingly. He bowed.
‘Lady Moresby. May I introduce Mr Nicholas Beauvoir? Nicholas, this is Lady Moresby.’
‘An old friend of Adam’s,’ she clarified, extending her hand. Nicholas bent over her hand formally, his mouth clearly held firmly against a threatening grin.
‘What a coincidence. So am I,’ he replied. ‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’
Her whole being seemed to convey her conviction that it was indeed a pleasure to make her acquaintance.
‘Are you going to invite me to dance?’ she asked Adam archly as the first notes of a cotillion strained to be heard above the murmur of voices that had increased in intensity as Rowena had intercepted Adam and Nicholas.
But Adam was watching a new couple entering the ballroom. Mr Figgs, the Master of the Pump Rooms, was short and round, with an amiable smile and an impressive head of springy white hair. He was walking proudly beside a woman whose entrance was causing quite as much of a sensation as Rowena’s audacious waylaying of Adam. The new arrival glanced around the room insouciantly, and when her eyes skimmed past Adam and Nicholas, the hint of a smile played about her generous mouth, but her eyes did not linger.
‘I don’t think that is a good idea, Rowena,’ Adam said casually. ‘It was nice to see you again, though.’ He smiled down at her, bowed and moved on. The buzzing around them increased.
Adam