An Innocent Proposal. Helen Dickson
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in silent prayer.
As if aware of his eyes on her, suddenly she raised her head and shot a glance at him, her eyes hot and amber, and intensely secretive in the atmosphere of reverence, a flickering of recognition stirring in their depths. The sheer desperation of that glance, the nakedness of it, and the intimacy, made Alistair feel that they were the only two people inside the church.
Then the service was over and he stood, momentarily distracted by the people moving all around him. The priest, recognising him, paused to exchange a few words, and when he looked again for the young woman she had disappeared outside into the blazing sunlight. He, too, left and he could still feel the imprint of the woman’s secretive glance. He had been made uneasy by it. There was something different about her, something that reached out and touched him in half-forgotten obscure places.
Two months later, breathing in the sharp mysteries of the night, Louisa hurried through the dark London streets, knowing her parents would turn in their graves if they knew the dangers their only daughter was placing herself in. But her brother James’s carriage was unavailable, as he’d taken it himself, and she’d shelved the idea of ordering a hackney or a chair to take her the short distance from the small house he rented in Henrietta Street to Lady Bricknell’s magnificent residence on the Strand, deciding to walk instead.
One of London’s most popular socialites, Lady Bricknell was throwing one of her notorious parties, to which, according to Alice, the only servant James could afford to employ, James and his good friend Timothy Hacket had been invited.
Louisa reminded herself that the streets held all kinds of dangers and terrors, where young women alone were easy prey for all kinds of villains with evil intent, especially after dark when no one was safe, but such was her anxiety to find her brother that she would have braved Hades itself—the underworld abode of dead souls—that night.
With her heart thumping in her breast, she drew her cloak about her and averted her eyes from the shadows which stirred and shifted down dark alleyways. She heard a cry—human or animal she knew not which, but it was probably a cat foraging for food. Thankfully several people were abroad along the Strand and no murderer or rapist leapt out at her. The only light came from the lamps hanging above the front gates of the larger houses, and glass globes half filled with whale oil, which were fixed to posts at regular intervals or suspended from poles sticking out from the walls on either side of the street, but most of them were so black with dirt that they cast a mean light. It was with immense relief that at last she saw the lights of Bricknell House ahead.
Hearing the sounds of music and laughter coming from within, Louisa paused at the bottom of the steps, reluctant to enter what she considered to be a house of ill repute, despite the distinction of its owner, who was rumoured to be a beautiful, very merry widow, whose husband had left her immensely rich, enabling her to pursue a passion for high living. Her parties were infamous, where gentlemen of breeding and rank, having ingratiated themselves with her to procure an invite, were entertained, and where no respectable lady would be seen dead.
The women who attended these parties were common actresses and courtesans—ladies of pleasure—and the moment Louisa stepped through the door at the top of the steps everyone would assume she was one of them. As a well-bred innocent from the country, how far removed that was from the truth, but for James’s sake she must be careful to give no one reason to suspect she was anything else.
Drawing a long, steadying breath, she nervously climbed the steps towards the double doors, knowing she had a part to play if she was to be admitted in order to see James, and that to avoid him any embarrassment she must not let it be known that she was his sister, come to persuade him to return home like a naughty boy—before he lost everything they owned at the gaming tables.
Assuming an air of confidence and superiority when a young footman apprehended her in the doorway, politely requesting her name so that she might be announced, she laughed forcibly, removing her cloak and handing it to him. Shaking loose her wonderful mane of strawberry-blonde hair which had become flattened beneath the hood, and in a casual manner that surprised even herself, she leaned towards him.
“I am expected,” she said, a quiet, conspiratorial smile playing on her lips as she gave him a provocative glance from under her thick black eyelashes which made him immediately her willing accomplice. “It is my wish to surprise a certain gentleman, you understand?”
The footman understood perfectly and nodded, thinking her a pretty wench. Her attire was somewhat plain in comparison to the flamboyant painted doxies who usually attended Lady Bricknell’s parties, but she did look quite stunning in a gown the colour of a newly opened, moist magnolia, which set off her creamy skin to perfection.
Louisa suddenly found herself in a glittering house full of colourful peacocks, and she was startled when the proudest, most arrogant peacock of them all suddenly appeared by her side, having followed her up from the street and seen her hesitate in the doorway. Wearing a short wig of exquisite whiteness, he was tall, dressed in a violet-coloured frock suit of heavily embroidered silk; a fine lacy jabot spilled from his throat in a frothy cascade and lace ruffles dripped over his wrists and over well-shaped hands, caressing his elegant, bejewelled fingers. He was attractive, with sultry features and dangerously hooded eyes, and he exuded all the confidence of a conceited charmer.
“Now, who can you be?” he enquired with unconcealed curiosity, his voice as smooth and seductive as the softest silk, his eyes absorbing every detail of her face and figure. “I cannot say that I’ve seen you at any of the soirées I have attended before. However, I cannot leave such a lovely lady floundering in the doorway. Please allow me to escort you inside. Come, take my arm. I am eager to see the effect your appearance will have on the other ladies present. I have no doubt you will ruffle a few feathers and cause quite a stir.”
Unable to resist such charming flattery, especially when it was spoken by a man whose eyes twinkled with such wicked mischief, Louisa responded with a smile and laid her hand on his arm, which was offered in such a way that it was a masterpiece of gracious arrogance.
“Is it because of my looks and because I am a stranger that I will cause a stir—or because I am with you, sir?” she murmured with an impudent smile and a delicate, knowing lift to her brows.
He laughed outright, showing teeth as white and strong as those of a wild animal. “You read me too well, dear lady—my reputation has gone before me,” he said, his heavy lids drooping over his eyes suggesting at intimacy, and a salacious, lazy smile curling his full lips. “It is not merely a stir I would like to cause with you, but an outright scandal.”
“I suspect a scandal would not concern you, sir—only the making of one,” Louisa replied coolly, forming her own judgement of him and sensing he was of an unpredictable, dangerous nature, of which her instinct told her to beware.
Seeing the smile fade from her lips and a wariness enter her eyes, her companion chuckled under his breath as they moved into the room. The spontaneous smile he bestowed on the women he passed had the desired effect, for their lips twitched and melted into smiles, which they hid behind fluttering fans that spoke a language all of their own.
“Come, now, do not pretend to be shocked,” he murmured. “I am sure—looking as you do—that you must be quite used to such flattery. You mustn’t mind my flirting with you. Most women who attend these parties expect it and are mortally offended if they find themselves ignored.”
“Really? You astonish me,” Louisa replied, with a delicate lift to her eyebrows.
“And don’t worry. I haven’t been invited either, but I do not think Lady Bricknell will have either of us thrown out. She is far too obliging to do that,” he confided. Earlier he had been undecided whether to go to a regular gambling haunt of his on the south side of the river or pay a visit to Bricknell House, knowing Lady Bricknell was holding one of her famous parties. Casting an appreciative, predatory eye over the young woman by his side, he was glad he had chosen the latter.
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Louisa.
“Tell me, who is it you are looking for? I overheard you telling the footman that you were here to surprise