The Earl Plays With Fire. Isabelle Goddard
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Veryan has certainly been a good friend to us,’ her aunt agreed.
The girl’s soft brown eyes were smiling and she looked the picture of happiness. She obviously revered Richard and just as obviously knew nothing about Christabel. He had not told her of their shared history. It was as though he wished to wipe the slate clean and obliterate that part of his life. The Christabel he’d known in his youth had ceased to exist for him. Instead a callous and unfeeling woman, a woman whose emotions were never disordered, had taken her place.
She was saved from making any further conversation by Sophia, who had finally finished paying for her goods. Before Christabel knew what was happening, her sister had seized her hand and was dragging her towards the entrance of the shop without a glance at the couple standing nearby.
‘Come, Bel, or we’ll be late for luncheon.’ Christabel had time only to execute a hasty bow before she was bundled outside.
‘Really, Sophia, there is little point in buying smart dresses and clever fripperies if you lack manners to match,’ she remonstrated, as they emerged into the fresh air and once more climbed into the waiting carriage.
‘I had to get out of that shop. It was so hot that I thought I’d melt. And I must go home this minute and try on all my new outfits.’
Her sister demurred. ‘Before we return to Mount Street I’d like to call in at Hatchards to collect the book I ordered. Mansfield Park is being spoken of everywhere and I’m most anxious to read it.’
‘You can pick the book up tomorrow,’ her sister complained. ‘At this hour of the day Piccadilly will be blocked with traffic and it will take an age to get home.’
Christabel remained unmoved. ‘I particularly wish to begin Miss Austen’s novel today and we’ll only be in the shop a few minutes. You owe me a little time after this morning, don’t you think?’
Sophia looked sulky, but did not dispute further. The traffic was lighter than expected and very soon they were standing outside Hatchards’s impressive bow windows. The smell of leather greeted them as Christabel trod briskly across polished wood to a large counter where a stack of volumes of different shapes and sizes was awaiting collection.
Already bored with the errand, Sophia began an immediate prowl around the lines of high-sided bookshelves in the hope of seeking out possible acquaintances. Soon she had disappeared from view so completely that when Christabel went to look for her, she was nowhere to be seen, even in the furthest recesses of the shop. A carriage full of new dresses had been too much of a temptation, Christabel thought, and Sophia must have ordered the groom to drive her home and left her sister to make her own way back. It was a nuisance, but not a disaster. Mount Street was a ten-minute walk away and she had no fear of undertaking the journey on her own.
She began to make her way to the shop entrance, zigzagging around the rows of tall shelves, and was just turning the corner of one particularly high stack of books when she looked up to find Richard Veryan barring her way. For a moment she froze. He was the last person she expected to see. He wore a drab riding cape over a tightly fitting coat of blue superfine and what looked to be a recent purchase, a cut Venetian waistcoat and the palest of fawn pantaloons. His air of elegance was subtly enhanced by the powerful muscularity of a body long hardened by physical activity.
He smiled sardonically as he swept her a bow. ‘Good morning, Miss Tallis. I trust I find you well. I hope that you haven’t suffered unduly from yesterday’s unfortunate incident.’
For a moment she was mesmerised, unable to speak, unable to take her eyes from the figure who stood in her path. It was as though she were seeing him for the very first time. Yesterday his sudden appearance, when she’d imagined him still on the high seas, had sent her mind into disarray. She had been conscious only of those crystal-hard eyes raking her down. Now the full force of his masculine attraction hit her hard. She struggled to find words.
‘I’m well, Lord Veryan, thank you, and have suffered no lasting effects,’ she managed at last.
‘I’m very happy to hear that. I would not have anyone injured because of my lack of foresight. But I could not have anticipated Miss de Silva’s actions—it was sheer recklessness, I fear, on the part of my young companion.’
‘This is her first visit to London and she can surely be excused,’ Christabel returned gently. ‘She would not know the regulations governing riding in Hyde Park.’
‘She does now, however, and will in future follow them strictly. Then we should go on well enough. Rules are a necessary part of civilised society, don’t you think? Myself, I’ve always placed a good deal of trust in observing them, but I imagine you must know that.’
Christabel said nothing. He was clearly intent on upsetting her.
‘You’re silent—perhaps you’re unwilling to criticise the young lady in question? Rest assured that I’ve already done so. She’s received a trimming she’ll not forget. But she has youth on her side and youth has one great advantage, I find—it can learn from its mistakes.’
‘I’m sure Miss de Silva will. No doubt you are a proficient teacher, sir,’ she replied sharply.
‘I trust so. I certainly should be. I was lucky enough in my own youth to have an equally proficient teacher who taught me to learn from my biggest mistake.’
His face was grim and she had an overpowering desire to flee, but he was barring her way and escape was impossible. She steadied her nerves and refused to be intimidated.
‘I hardly know the young lady, of course, but she seemed well able to manage her own affairs.’
‘She gives that impression to the uninitiated, but to those who know her well,’ he said meaningfully, ‘the case is otherwise. Her spontaneity is certainly entrancing, but is like to run away with her. She needs someone to exercise a firm control.’
‘I hope she sees the situation as you do.’
‘And if she does not?’
‘Then she will reject that control and simply be herself,’ she threw at him.
‘Naturally I should have expected you to say that, Miss Tallis. But for the moment I’d forgotten that you are an arch advocate of self-expression, no matter what the cost.’
His smile was belied by the frost in his cold, grey eyes and she felt her stomach twist into knots. It seemed he’d accosted her quite deliberately in order to bait her, but she could not let him ride roughshod.
‘You misunderstand me, sir. I was not encouraging Miss de Silva to break rules, simply proposing that everyone must have the freedom to make some mistakes.’
‘Ah, yes, you would know a deal about such freedom. Dare I suggest that restraint is a more admirable quality?’
‘Restraint and youth do not sit easily together,’ she retorted.
‘Yet for most they can be negotiated. Dishonour is a powerful deterrent, would you not say?’
She was weary of the cat-and-mouse game he seemed to relish and made to walk forwards. ‘If you will excuse me, I am meeting my sister here and would not wish to keep her waiting.’
He made no move to allow her to pass, but instead looked around him mockingly. ‘I don’t see her. She is certainly nowhere in the shop. Are you sure you were supposed to meet her here?’
‘Yes, indeed. She will no doubt be outside.’
‘And if she is not, you will have no companion to accompany you home. May I offer my escort?’
‘I thank you, but no,’ she said hastily, ‘I have my carriage.’
‘I fear you’re out of luck. There was no sign of a carriage on the road when I entered the shop. It must have left without you—but then perhaps Sir Julian Edgerton is close by to take you home?’
She shook her head.
‘No?