‘How is it, then?’ he said. ‘Tell me.’
Jack waited, watching as she clasped her hands in her lap, searching around in her mind for words to explain herself. She was such an intriguing mixture of shy innocence and searing passion. It was almost possible to believe she was a virtuous woman. Almost.
‘I am afraid I have given you a very false impression, Major Clifton. I am nothing like the Wanton Widow society has christened me. In fact, I—’
She broke off as the carriage slowed. Jack glanced out of the window.
‘Dover Street. You are home, my lady.’ He opened the door and jumped down, turning to hold out his hand to her. ‘We will continue this conversation inside.’
‘Oh, no!’ She shrank back. ‘No, I do not think we should to that. It is so very late…’
He grinned.
‘After the events of the past few days I do not think we need to stand upon ceremony, ma’am. Come, we will be more comfortable inside. Besides, your nerves are still disordered and I want to see you take a cup of wine before I leave. It will help you to sleep.’
Jack helped her down from the carriage, but even as they trod up the steps into the house she was suggesting that they should continue their discussions on the morrow. Jack ignored her protests. He was reluctant to leave her: the anger he had felt when he realised the blackguard had escaped them was nothing compared to the cold, gut-wrenching fear he had experienced, knowing that Eloise had been alone with the villain. Lady Allyngham might consider herself a woman of the world, she might enjoy her flirtations with gentlemen of the ton, but for a brief time tonight she had been at the mercy of an unscrupulous villain, and Jack’s blood ran cold when he thought of what might have happened to her. With one hand possessively around her waist he swept her into the house and guided her towards the morning room, where a thin strip of candlelight glowed beneath the door.
‘Major Clifton, I assure you I am perfectly composed now.’ She continued to protest as the wooden-faced lackey threw open the door of the morning room. ‘There really is no need for you to stay.’
Jack opened his mouth to reply as he followed her into the room but the words remained unspoken. They were not alone. Alex Mortimer was sitting in a chair beside the fire, a glass of brandy on the table beside him and his booted legs stretched out towards the hearth.
‘Alex!’
The lady’s unfeigned pleasure at the sight of her visitor had Jack grinding his teeth. Mortimer, too, looked particularly at his ease. Damn him. He rose as Eloise went forwards, her hands held out towards him.
‘I did not expect you back in town for days yet.’
‘My business was concluded early.’ Mortimer took her hands and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘Noyes told me you had gone to Vauxhall, so I thought I would wait for you.’ He looked across at Jack and raised his brows. ‘Am I de trop?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Eloise quickly. Jack noticed she had the grace to blush. ‘You know Major Clifton?’
‘We have met.’ Alex nodded towards Jack, his eyes wary. ‘Is it the usual practice to bring gentlemen home now, Elle?’
Jack’s chin jutted belligerently. ‘Is it the usual practice to treat a lady’s house as if it was your own?’
Eloise stepped between them.
‘Major Clifton escorted me back from Vauxhall.’
Alex’s brows rose higher. ‘I trust you had a pleasant evening.’
Jack was about to retort that pleasure had not been the object of attending the gardens when he realised Eloise was looking at him, such a look of entreaty in her blue eyes that he could not ignore it. He allowed himself a faint, mocking smile.
‘How could it be otherwise,’ he drawled, ‘with Lady Allyngham at my side? And now that you are safely home, madam, and have no further need of my…services, I shall take my leave.’
There was some bitter satisfaction in the way her cheeks flamed at the inference. Mortimer frowned and took a step forwards. Jack braced himself for the challenge but it never came. Eloise put out her hand, palm down, saying coolly,
‘Yes, thank you, Major, for escorting me tonight. I am very grateful.’
The shadow of reproach he saw in her eyes flayed his lacerated spirits. He cursed silently. They find Mortimer making himself at home in her house and she expects him to act like a gentleman. Clenching his jaw against further unwary comments, he gave a stiff little bow and retired, reminding himself that the widow’s behaviour really was no concern of his. But this comforting thought did nothing to alleviate the black mood that enveloped him as he strode back to King Street.
Eloise watched the door close with a snap behind the major and let her breath go in a long and very audible sigh. She untied her cloak and threw it over a chair.
‘I am sorry if I have frightened off your lover,’ murmured Alex.
Eloise swung round.
‘Major Clifton is not my lover!’ she retorted, knowing the heat was flooding back into her cheeks.
‘Well, I think he would like to be,’ mused Alex, pressing her down into a chair. ‘The look on his face when he saw me here was one of severe disappointment.’
‘It was?’ She looked up hopefully.
Alex grinned.
‘Oh, yes. I think he could happily have murdered me. He looked most disapproving.’
‘Well, that is no surprise,’ she retorted. ‘It was a shock for me to find you here at this time of night.’
‘This time in the morning, actually,’ Alex corrected her, sitting down. ‘I was concerned about you. It is not like you to go off to Vauxhall with only Clifton for company. Unless, of course, you have decided to live up to your wicked reputation.’
‘I would never do that!’ she retorted.
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, thinking back over the events of the evening. She did not know what to do. About the journal. About Jack. He had been angry when he left, and with good reason. To find Alex waiting for them had been a shock. She was so accustomed to having Alex around that she had thought nothing of it, but a moment’s reflection had shown her how it must look to Jack. It confirmed all the disgraceful things he had already heard about her. She gave an inward shrug. It was too late now to worry about that. She turned her mind instead to the problem of the missing journal. She glanced at Alex. Perhaps, after all, she should take him into her confidence. He had always been her friend and she knew she could trust him. Besides, this matter involved him. It was only right that he should know what was happening. She said slowly, ‘You will remember, after Tony died, we searched for the journal and could not find it?’
‘Yes, but I thought Tony had destroyed it.’
‘No. It was stolen.’ Eloise looked up. ‘And now someone is using it against me.’
Alex sat up straight. ‘The devil
