A Regency Earl's Pleasure: The Earl Plays With Fire / Society's Most Scandalous Rake. Isabelle Goddard

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A Regency Earl's Pleasure: The Earl Plays With Fire / Society's Most Scandalous Rake - Isabelle  Goddard


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his story for some time. Christabel Tallis had not seemed the kind of woman who would treat a man so shockingly, but there was no doubt Richard had suffered hurt.

      She turned impulsively to him, but her question was tentative. ‘It happened such a time ago, Richard, can you not forgive her?’

      ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ he said in a breezy voice. ‘It’s over.’

      But it wasn’t, he thought, as he escorted his young companion to Gunter’s for her favourite elderflower ice. It was far from over. Christabel had come back into his life and the world he’d built for himself had begun to shatter. He remembered how in those early months in Buenos Aires, he’d walked around a stunned man. He’d lost so much, not just the girl he loved, but his entire life. Early one blisteringly hot morning, he’d walked on the beach when the world was still asleep and he was alone. Looking out over the limitless ocean, he’d willed himself back to his beloved homeland. But friends and family had gradually faded from view and he’d been helpless to recall them. He’d borne the rupture calmly, stoically, never allowing a hint of trouble to show, and he’d grown to love Argentina. He’d put down new roots, made new friends, taken new lovers. So why was he allowing such furious resentment to seep into his life and destroy the pleasure of his homecoming? After his scourging from the Tallis affair, he’d become adept at sidestepping deep feeling and for the first time in years strong emotions were crowding in on him. Ever since he’d seen Christabel. His constant need to provoke her, to disturb her, was a signal that he’d never truly overcome her betrayal. He’d simply shut it away. Seeing her afresh had reawakened feelings that he’d thought dead.

      His anger was directed as much at himself for still being in thrall to her. If he were to know any peace, he must exorcise that demon and do so as quickly as possible. The lawyers, he’d learned, would be ready within a fortnight and last night he’d written to his mother to expect him shortly. But how to free himself of this unwanted legacy from the past? In the heat of their first unexpected meeting, he’d entertained some wild thoughts. But were they that wild? If he could prove Christabel unchanged, prove that she was the same inconstant woman, surely that would get her from under his skin.

      Instinctively he knew that she was not wholly indifferent to him. Her face might remain immobile, but her eyes gave her away. He had the power to rouse this cold and remote woman to strong feeling—anger and love were bedfellows, after all. There was a lingering tie between them, he was sure, and he’d taken every chance to play on whatever jealousy Christabel might feel towards the young girl who walked beside him. He had done so in the hazy belief that he might force her into showing her true colours. But there had to be more. He would have to entice her into his arms, tease her, goad her, until she was ready to say she loved him, ready to be disloyal. Ready to betray Sir Julian Edgerton as she’d betrayed him. The man who had taken her arm so proudly would be forced to recognise her for the jilt she was. And if he could learn the same lesson himself, her power to perturb would be over. He would be free of her—for ever.

      The Tallis family ate an early supper, for Christabel and Lady Harriet were engaged to attend Almack’s. Christabel felt no joy at the prospect. This morning her pleasure in viewing the Marbles had been spoiled by Richard’s antagonism and an evening spent at the exclusive club was no compensation. It would be a tedious few hours although largely effortless. Several glasses of lemonade, a number of country dances, a nod or two at acquaintances and then they would be free to return home. She’d never understood what made the place exceptional, but her mother always held it to be good ton to attend regularly and made a point of escorting her elder daughter every week. Sir Julian, too, was a frequent visitor and Christabel derived some comfort at least in knowing that tonight he was safely lodged at Rosings many miles away and she would be free of any threat of a marriage proposal.

      She had dressed with some care for the evening. After the unsettling events of the last few days she felt the need to look her best. The emerald silk gown opening to an underdress of the palest green gauze was a stunning creation, her hair flaming in contrast and the green of her eyes reflected in its deepest tones. A low bodice revealed the pale perfection of shapely breasts and shoulders as smooth as alabaster. Without immodesty, she knew from experience that she would attract the attention of most of the men there. Not Richard’s, though. He would certainly not be at Almack’s. Even in his youth it had been a place he’d always refused to attend, though she had often begged him to be her escort.

      She looked across the table at her sister who was drinking soup with exaggerated care, intent on preserving her gown. With a start she realised that Sophia was dressed rather too elaborately for dinner at home and wondered why. The conundrum was soon solved.

      ‘Sophia will be coming with us,’ her mother announced with studied carelessness.

      ‘To Almack’s?’ Christabel asked blankly.

      ‘Yes, of course, to Almack’s.’

      ‘But what about vouchers?’

      ‘I have managed to obtain some. Lady Jersey was kind enough to bestow them on me at short notice. She understood the position and wanted very much to make Sophia’s acquaintance.’

      ‘Nobody gets tickets for Almack’s that quickly, Mama, so you must have known for some time that Sophia was coming to London.’

      Her mother made no reply and the ruthless interrogation continued. ‘I thought you said that you and Papa had decided only recently that she should visit—in fact, you must have been plotting it together for weeks!’ The net seemed to be closing in on her ever more tightly.

      Her mother’s telltale blush revealed her unhappiness at the deception while Sophia’s face was one of untroubled victory.

      ‘Hardly plotting, Bel. Sophia’s coming to stay was certainly not part of any grand plan. But when Sir Julian began to grow ever more particular in his attentions to you, it seemed sensible to introduce Sophia to ton society a little earlier than we planned. I heard only last week that your brother and sister were on their way, but said nothing. I knew you had a lot on your mind and thought it would be a delightful surprise.’

      ‘Delightful,’ Christabel offered drily. ‘But do you feel that the dress is quite right for the occasion?’

      ‘And what, pray, is wrong with my dress?’ Sophia asked combatively.

      Lady Tallis, who had unsuccessfully tried to direct her younger daughter to one of the more modest creations hanging in her wardrobe, interjected gently, ‘Christabel has such refined taste, my dear, and she is familiar with what is most suitable for Almack’s. Why don’t you reconsider the magenta? The rose chiffon would become you so well.’

      ‘The rose is boring and I have no intention of being boring.’

      ‘You won’t be that,’ Benedict put in unhelpfully, ‘the whole world will see you coming at fifty paces.’

      ‘You have no notion of female dress, so hold your tongue,’ she spat.

      ‘I have no notion of going to Almack’s either so I won’t be the one who has to hand out the sunshades,’ her unrepentant brother grinned.

      ‘What is this, Benedict, of course you are to come with us,’ his mother chided. ‘You will need to put on evening dress. I assume that you brought it with you.’

      ‘But not to do the pretty at Almack’s,’ he grumbled.

      After a good deal more in this vein he agreed reluctantly to squire his mother and sisters. Almack’s he stigmatised as being the waste of a good evening and issued a cryptic warning that he would be leaving pretty promptly as he had far more interesting prospects in view.

      Almack’s was always crowded even at nine o’clock in the evening. The doors shut promptly at eleven and anyone arriving after that time, no matter how important, was barred. The patronesses controlled every aspect of the club with iron fists and Lady Jersey’s vouchers had been hard won. In the entrance hall Sophia stopped to preen herself in the Venetian mirror, which hung at the bottom of the red-carpeted stairs, but not for long. Her mother was soon ushering both girls upwards


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