From London With Love. Sarah Mallory
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‘And does my dancing please you, my lady?’ he asked as soon as they joined hands again.
‘For the moment,’ she responded airily.
‘I agree,’ he said, his eyes glinting. ‘I can think of much more pleasant things to do for the remainder of the evening.’
She blushed hotly and was relieved that they parted again and she was not obliged to answer.
Eloise began to wonder if she had been wise to dance with this stranger: she was disturbed by his effect upon her. Goodness, he had only to smile and she found herself behaving like a giddy schoolgirl! She must end this now, before the intoxication became too great. When the music drew to a close she gave a little curtsy and stepped away. Her partner followed.
‘I know I have not been in town for a while,’ he said, ‘but it is still customary to stand up for two dances, I believe.’
She put up her chin.
‘I will not pander to your vanity, sir. One dance is sufficient for you, until we have been introduced.’
She flicked open her fan and with a little smile she walked away from him.
Alex was waiting for her.
‘Our host tells me Lord Berrow has sent his apologies for tonight. He is gone out of town. However, Parham expects to see him at the Renwicks’ soirée tomorrow.’
‘How very tiresome,’ said Eloise. ‘If we had known we need not have come.’ She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘Let us go now.’
‘Are you sure? You will disappoint any number of gentlemen if you leave now: they all hope to stand up with you at least once.’
Eloise shrugged. If she could not dance with her dark stranger she did not want to dance with anyone.
‘There will be other nights.’
She concentrated on disposing her diaphanous stole across her shoulders rather than meet Alex’s intent gaze.
‘What has occurred, Elle? I mislike that glitter in your eyes. Did your last partner say anything to upset you?’
She dismissed his concern with a wave of one gloved hand.
‘No, no, nothing like that. He was a diversion, nothing more.’
‘He was very taken with you.’
‘Did you think so?’ she asked him, a little too eagerly.
Alex frowned.
‘Does it matter to you that he should?’
Eloise looked away,
‘No, of course not. But it is very flattering.’ She tried for a lighter note. ‘He was very amusing.’
Alex looked back across the room to where the tall stranger was standing against the wall, watching them.
‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘that he could be very dangerous.’
‘Hell and damnation!’
Jack watched Lady Allyngham walk away on Mortimer’s arm.
It would not have taken much to have Parham present him to the lady. That had been his design when he had first arrived, but the sight of Eloise Allyngham had wiped all intentions, good or bad, from his mind.
He had carried Allyngham’s locket with him for the past year and was well acquainted with the tiny portrait inside, but he had been taken aback when he saw the lady herself. The painting only hinted at the glorious abundance of guinea-gold curls that framed her face. It had not prepared him for her dazzling smile, nor the look of humour and intelligence he observed in her deep blue eyes.
He had intended to find the lady, to hand over the bequests and retire gracefully, but then Lady Allyngham had collided with him and when she had turned her laughing face to his, every sensible thought had flown out of his head. He had prowled the room until she returned from the supper room and by then his host was nowhere to be seen, so Jack seized the moment and asked her to dance. He should have told her why he was there, but he could not resist the temptation to flirt with her, to bring that delicious flush to her cheeks and to see the elusive dimple peeping beside her generous mouth.
He pulled himself together. It had been a very pleasant interlude but he had a duty to perform. He sought out his hostess.
‘Lady Allyngham?’ She looked a little bemused when he made his request. ‘My dear Major, I would happily introduce you to her, if it were in my power, but she is gone.’
‘Gone!’
‘Why, yes, she took her leave of me a few minutes ago. Mr Mortimer was escorting her back to Dover Street.’ She gave him a knowing smile. ‘He is a very attentive escort.’
Disappointment seared through Jack. He tried to convince himself that it was because he wanted to hand over Tony’s ring and locket and get out of London, but he knew in his heart that it was because he wanted to see Eloise Allyngham again.
Jack took his leave and made his way to St James’s Street, where he was admitted into an imposing white stone building by a liveried servant. White’s was very busy and he paused for a while to watch a lively game of Hazard, refusing more than one invitation to join in. Later he wandered through to the card room where he soon spotted a number of familiar faces, some of whom he had seen in Lady Parham’s ballroom earlier that evening. A group of gentlemen were engaged in a game of bassett. One looked up and waved to him.
‘Had enough of the dancing, Clifton?’
Jack smiled. ‘Something like that, Renwick.’
He looked at the little group: Charles Renwick was an old friend and he recognised another, slightly older man, Edward Graham, who had been a friend of his father, but the others were strangers to him—with one exception, the dealer, a stocky man with a heavily pock-marked face and pomaded hair. Sir Ronald Deforge. A tremor of revulsion ran through Jack. At that moment the dealer looked up at him from beneath his heavy-lidded eyes. Jack saw the recognition in his glance and observed the contemptuous curl of the man’s thick lips. As he hesitated a gentleman with a florid face and bushy red side-whiskers shifted his chair to make room for him.
‘Doing battle in the ballroom can be as hellish as a full-scale siege, eh, Major? Well, never mind that now. Sit you down, sir, and we’ll deal you in.’
‘Aye, we are here to commiserate with each other,’ declared Mr Graham. ‘Come along, Deforge, deal those cards!’
‘Oh?’ Jack signalled to the waiter to fill his glass.
‘Aye. There was no point in staying at Parham House once Lady Allyngham had left.’ Edward Graham paused, frowning over his cards. ‘Hoped to persuade her to stand up with me later, but then found she had slipped away.’
Jack schooled his features to show no more than mild interest. Sir Ronald cast a fleeting glance