The Officer and the Proper Lady. Louise Allen

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The Officer and the Proper Lady - Louise Allen


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fresh greens.

      ‘I am wiping my shoes,’ she said coldly. There was nothing to be afraid of, she told herself. She was only yards from a crowd of people. ‘And a gentleman would leave me in privacy.’

      ‘Let me tie up your ribbons for you,’ he said, his voice suggestively husky. ‘Or untie some others.’

      But of course, as he very well knew, she might be within yards of safety but if she ran she was going to burst out of the woods, barefoot and dishevelled—and he had only to let his vivid uniform be glimpsed through the trees for it to appear that she had been involved in a most disreputable tryst.

      Julia jammed her feet into the slippers, tying the ribbons with a hasty knot. ‘Go away.’ She got to her feet, the fallen tree trunk massive behind her: no escape that way. She began to edge around the glade, but he was faster. With two long strides he had her, his hand fastening around her wrist to jerk her to him. Julia landed with a thump against his very solid chest, the braid and buttons of his uniform imprinting themselves painfully through spencer, gown and camisole.

      ‘Now then, stop being difficult—’ Fellowes wrapped his left arm around her, imprisoning her as she struggled to lift her free hand.

      ‘Stop it!’ Julia ducked her head to find some bare skin to bite. She wouldn’t win, she knew that, he was too big and too strong, but if she could just get him off balance she might have a chance to run.

      ‘Let her go.’ The words dropped into the still air of the clearing like three strokes on a bell. Hal.

      Chapter Four

      ‘You are developing a bad habit of spoiling my fun, Carlow.’ Fellowes did not release her, but against her breast Julia felt his heartbeat quicken. He was not as unmoved as his drawl might suggest.

      ‘I do not think Miss Tresilian shares your idea of fun.’ Hal was behind her, but she could hear from his voice that he was coming closer. ‘Let her go.’

      ‘I don’t come interfering with your bits of muslin, Carlow, though by all accounts, the town is littered with them. I suggest you leave mine alone and get back to that opera dancer you’re chasing.’

      ‘Oh dear.’ Hal sounded vaguely regretful. By tipping her head back Julia could see Fellowes’s jaw clench. He was no more fooled by the mild tone than she was. He began to edge backwards, keeping her between himself and the other man.

      ‘You know,’ Hal continued, close now, ‘I was ready to settle this with just your grovelling apology to Miss Tresilian and your word that you would not trouble her again. But now I am going to have to hurt you.’ Fellowes went very still. ‘Of course, if I am to do that, you will have to let Miss Tresilian go and stop skulking behind her like a coward. But perhaps you are that, as well as being no gentleman?’

      ‘Be damned to you, Carlow.’ Fellowes spun Julia round and pushed her towards Hal. For the second time, she landed painfully against braid, buttons and solid man, but this time it took an effort of will not to cling on for dear life.

      ‘Miss Tresilian, are you unhurt?’

      Except for frogging imprinted all over my bosom, she thought wildly. ‘Yes, thank you, Major.’

      ‘If you would care to sit on the fallen tree, ma’am? Just while I deal with this—’ He waved a hand towards the other officer.

      ‘Of course. Thank you.’ Julia suppressed the urge to curtsey—Hal’s manner was better suited to the ballroom than to a brawl in a woodland glade—and retreated to the log. ‘You won’t kill him, will you?’

      ‘I would remind you, sir, that duelling between serving officers is forbidden,’ Fellowes cut in.

      Julia sat down and tried to tug her clothing into order while keeping her eyes riveted on Hal. Fellowes was right. If Hal fought a duel he could be in serious trouble with the military authorities. If he assaulted a fellow officer without the benefit of a duel’s formalities and killed him, then things would be even worse.

      ‘He is a blackguard,’ she said, controlling the shake in her voice. ‘But Wellington will not thank you for killing any officer of his just now.’

      ‘Exactly,’ Fellowes blustered.

      ‘Thank you both for your flattering, and quite accurate, assumption that I would best Major Fellowes,’ Hal remarked, and despite everything, Julia felt her lips curve at the arrogance in his voice. ‘What would you like me to do with him, Miss Tresilian?’

      A well-bred lady should have fainted by now. Or, if conscious, she might say, in a forgiving and dignified manner, Send him on his way with a warning. Julia smoothed down her skirt, straightened her bonnet and said, ‘Hit him, please.’

      ‘With pleasure.’ Hal took two long strides, doubled his right fist and hit Major Fellowes squarely on the point of the jaw. The taller man went down on his back, scrambled to his feet and launched himself at Hal, meeting a solid left hook that threw him back against a tree. Hal closed in, hit him in the stomach, took a blow to the side of the head, countered with another left, and Fellowes slid ungracefully to the ground, legs sprawling.

      Hal took him by the lapels, hauled him to his feet and gave him a push that sent him staggering out of the clearing. ‘And if I ever find you have been bothering Miss Tresilian again, I really will hurt you.’

      He turned back to her, blowing on his grazed knuckles. ‘Are you all right?’

      There did not appear to be much breath left in her lungs. Julia collected what little she could find. ‘Yes. Thank you. I feel a little…odd.’ He frowned, as he came towards her. ‘He didn’t hurt me; I am just not used to violence.’

      ‘You did say to hit him,’ Hal pointed out, not unreasonably. ‘Running him through would have been—’

      ‘Messier,’ she finished faintly, then got a grip on herself. ‘Thank you, Major Carlow. That is the second time you have rescued me from Major Fellowes. You must think I have been encouraging him, but really, I have not.’

      ‘I know.’ He stopped, perhaps six feet from her, and grinned. Her stomach swooped in a most disconcerting manner. Really, the wretched man had far too much charm to be allowed out. As for the effect on her of the way he had dealt with Fellowes—that was too shamefully primitive to contemplate. ‘But I am surprised you didn’t give him a lecture on his morals. It worked with me,’ he continued, managing to look penitent.

      Julia bit back a gurgle of laughter. It was the shock, it was making her positively hysterical. ‘Indeed, Major Carlow? Are you telling me that you have reformed?’

      ‘I am working on the gaming, ineffectually so far I am afraid, and I am not making much progress with the fighting or the drinking either, but otherwise, yes, I am completely reformed.’ He looked convincingly serious.

      ‘Gaming, fighting, drinking—what does that leave?’ Julia asked and then realized: women! Opera dancers. Lady Horton. ‘Oh! Major Carlow, you should not mention such things to me!’ As if he is going to give up womanising because I do not approve!

      ‘I very carefully did not,’ he said, his lips twitching in the way that made her want to smile back. ‘I am afraid you have just revealed a surprising indelicacy of mind, Miss Tresilian.’

      ‘You—’ Julia bit back the words, seeing the wickedness in the blue-grey eyes. ‘I know what you are doing: you are teasing me to take my mind off Fellowes.’

      ‘Did it work?’

      ‘Admirably,’ she acknowledged. ‘Do I look respectable enough to go back to the meadow?’

      ‘Yes.’ He studied her, frowning. ‘Although one of the flowers in your bonnet has come unpinned. I can fix it well enough for you to get to the retiring tent.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Julia got up and took a step towards him, rather too hastily she realized as her feet tangled in


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