He had not visualised the moment when he would meet Christabel again. He’d made quite sure that his imagination never strayed into such dangerous territory. But if he’d been tempted to speculate, it would not have felt like this. He would have felt nothing—the meaningless liaisons of years would have done their work—and any carefully suppressed images that still remained in the recesses of his memory would have, should have, shrivelled in the cold light of reality. He ought to feel nothing. But that, it seemed, was not so. He stood and looked and his heart received a most painful jolt.
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The glinting green eyes and the sensual tumble of red locks against translucent skin were arousing all his senses. He looked searchingly at her ungloved hand. Astonishingly she was not married, at least not yet. That popinjay with her was no doubt the intended.
Christabel had known him immediately. He was still the same tall, athletic man that he had always been, but he seemed stronger now, more muscular, his face lean and tanned. There was an authority about him that had not been there before. His grey eyes as they fixed her in an unwavering stare beneath black, straight brows were lacking in all emotion. There was no warmth, no answering response to her tentative smile.
His voice was as indifferent as his expression. ‘Miss Tallis? Your servant, ma’am.’
How hateful of him to speak to her thus, stiff and formal as though they had met for the first time only yesterday. Sir Julian looked questioningly between the two of them and Christabel forced herself to perform the social niceties.
‘Sir Julian, may I introduce Earl Veryan. Lord Veryan, Sir Julian Edgerton.’
The two men eyed each other askance, instinctively hostile. Domino, abandoned at a distance, walked her horse towards them and Richard was compelled to make her known to her erstwhile victims. She smiled sunnily at them.
‘I’m so sorry, please forgive me for frightening you.’ Her accent was marked as though she hoped that this might produce a swifter forgiveness.
‘I don’t know the rules,’ she continued, ‘and Richard never told me, did you, Richard?’ And she smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with affectionate entreaty.
But Richard was still looking at Christabel and saw those extraordinary green eyes half-close. Was that perhaps unhappiness at Domino’s youthful adoration, an attempt to erase a discomfiting image? It seemed unlikely given her ruthless rejection of him. Yet undoubtedly she’d flinched at Domino’s display of fondness. The girl meant nothing to him, but Christabel was not to know that. He hoped that she was suffering at least a little of the agonising jealousy that he’d once known.
He was shocked by the vindictive thought, shocked that his emotions were surging out of control. That he should be so susceptible, so easily disturbed, after six long years was dismaying. He schooled his face to remain expressionless as he bowed his formal farewell, but his mind was deep in tangled thought. He walked swiftly away and Domino had almost to skip to keep up with his long stride.
The unexpected meeting had unnerved him. He’d felt his body invaded by unwanted desire and his mind battered by conflicting impulses. He was bewildered by his reactions for they made no sense. But of one thing he was certain. He could not allow himself to be drawn to Christabel again; he had to overcome a weakness that had come out of nowhere. As he walked a vague sense grew upon him that if he could prove to himself, prove to the world, that her beauty was only skin deep, she would cease to bother him. The veriest shadow of an idea began to form in his mind.
Chapter Two
Christabel allowed herself to be escorted home, Sir Julian steering her expertly along the pavement while remonstrating at length on the licence given the very young these days. She hardly heard him for her mind was in turmoil. The unexpected meeting with Richard would have been difficult enough but his cold aloofness had at first amazed her and then upset her deeply. Years had passed since she’d broken their engagement and she’d imagined that whatever anger he’d felt towards her would have cooled long ago. But it was clear that it was not so. Those steely grey eyes had expressed—what, indifference, aversion, even enmity? Richard, of all people, the boy who had meant most to her for most of her life.
Sir Julian continued his monologue as they made their way through the busy crowds that thronged Mayfair that morning.
‘I am only glad, Miss Tallis, that you sustained no lasting injury. How I could have reconciled myself to that I do not know. It was I who invited you to view the floral display—if it had not been for me, you would never have been in danger.’
She roused herself to reassure him. ‘Please don’t blame yourself, Sir Julian. The incident was in no way your fault. You could not have foreseen such a thing happening.’
‘That is true, but I still feel a heavy responsibility. And tomorrow I must go away. I cannot delay my visit to Rosings any longer. I have already put it off once and my bailiff remains most anxious to consult me.’
‘Of course, you must not delay. Why ever should you? As you see, I am perfectly unharmed. My nerves may be a little jangled, but they will soon recover.’
‘Miss Tallis, you are a pearl among women. Others would have had hysterics. You are so cool and admirable under adversity.’
Sir Julian’s fussing was becoming an irritant. She might well have succumbed to hysterics, but not from the possibility of being crushed by a runaway horse. She could hardly admit that the shock she’d sustained was in encountering Richard’s hostility, and she was desperate for her well-meaning companion to drop the topic. Thank goodness he was to journey to his estates tomorrow and she would be free of his company for the next few days. But how dreadful that she should feel this way about the man she was considering taking as a husband.
‘I shall be back very shortly—’ he had almost read her mind ‘—and then, Miss Tallis, I hope to renew our conversation which was so violently terminated.’
They had reached the house in Mount Street that Lady Tallis rented every year and Sir Julian bounded up the white stone steps and knocked sharply on the front door with his cane. Christabel wasn’t sure if this was to impress since there was a perfectly good door knocker. However, he was beaming down on her with a gentle kindliness and she tried to look suitably grateful for his care. As soon as she could, she would send him on his way and seek refuge in her bedroom. She needed time to think, time to digest all that had happened that morning.
The bright blue door of Number Six finally swung open after an unusual delay and the two of them made to enter, but were pulled up sharply on the threshold by a scene of rampant confusion. The hall was overflowing with trunks, cases, holdalls of all kinds and a decidedly sulky-looking parrot in a white ironwork cage that Christabel recognised instantly.
‘Sophia? Sophia is here?’
‘Yes, Sophia is here.’
A strident voice emanated from behind the furthest stack of parcels. The young lady who emerged, smiling triumphantly at her sister, was not ill favoured, but against Christabel’s pure beauty she appeared unexceptional.
‘What on earth are you doing in Mount Street? Why have you left Cornwall?’ Christabel exclaimed.
Before her sister could answer, a cheery male voice called out from the adjoining library, ‘Hey, Sophy, you could hang the bird here.’
‘Benedict? He’s here too?’
Christabel was dumbstruck at this sudden eruption into her life of the two siblings she had supposed to be fixed at Lamorna Place for the next few months. Lady Harriet floated into the hall, waving her hands ineffectually over the assorted baggage as though by doing so it would miraculously order itself and march away.
‘Christabel, my darling, I’m so glad you’re back. The servants are being amazingly slow at sorting this mountain and I need your help.’
‘I’m not surprised they’re slow—why on earth is there so much?’
Sophia drew herself up with an indignant puff and was just about to launch into an impassioned response when she spied Sir Julian hov
ering just behind her sister. Christabel had not introduced him immediately and he took the chance to excuse himself, saying in a rather nervous voice that he could see the family was extremely busy at this time and he would take his leave.
‘May I call on my return, Miss Tallis?’
‘Yes, of course, you may.’ It was her mother who replied so readily.
Sir Julian bowed himself elegantly out of the door and down the steps, but not before he heard Sophia’s accusing voice. ‘Why didn’t you introduce us to your fiance, Christabel?’
The door shut behind him.
‘He is not my fiance.’
‘That’s very strange. We understood that you were engaged. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it, Benedict?’
Benedict smiled in a superior fashion. ‘It may be why you’re here, but I’m here to have fun,’ he returned.
‘Mama, may I speak privately with you for a moment?’ Christabel asked in a tight voice as she ushered her mother into the library.
Lady Harriet looked flustered. ‘Shouldn’t we get the hall cleared first, my dear? The house is at sixes and sevens and the staff really do not like it.’
‘In a minute, Mama. This is more important.’
Once in the library, she wasted no time. ‘Why are Sophia and Benedict here?’ she asked, fixing her mother with a minatory look.
‘They are family. It is quite natural that they should come to stay with us,’ her mother responded defensively.
‘But why now, Mama? You know that it was decided they would both remain in Cornwall for the next few months.’
‘That was certainly the initial plan, but things have changed a little.’
‘What things precisely?’
‘Sophia is eighteen and should have the opportunity to partake of at least some of the Season.’ Her mother appeared unwilling to answer her directly.
‘She was eighteen when we left Lamorna, so I ask you again—what has changed?’
‘Sir Julian has changed.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that he is ready to make you an offer, Christabel. You cannot deny it and if, as I hope, you will see fit to accept him, Sophia must be introduced to the ton at the earliest possible moment so that she, too, has the chance of contracting an eligible alliance.’
‘But it was agreed that she would come out officially next year.’
‘That was before we knew about Sir Julian.’
‘What do we know about Sir Julian? Sophia said that he was my fiance. Why should she say that?’
‘He is—almost,’ her mother ventured.
‘He has not asked me to marry him.’
‘But he will. And I cannot think why he did not do so this morning. It was clearly what he intended.’
Christabel ignored this and pursued her own enquiry relentlessly.
‘Have you told Sophia that I am engaged?’
‘I may have mentioned in letters to your father that it was possible you were on the point of accepting a proposal.’
‘And Papa has repeated this to Sophia?’
‘He may have mentioned it.’
‘May have? He obviously let it slip and, knowing Sophia, she will have plagued him to death until he agreed that she could come to London. Isn’t that so?’
Her mother hung her head guiltily.
‘I thought so. And I am to be coerced into agreeing to this marriage so that my sister can have her way.’
‘No one is talking of coercion, Bel. You know that you must be married, if not to Sir Julian, then to someone else. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times before. And it’s only fair to Sophia that she be allowed her place in the sun.’
‘And is Benedict also to be allowed his place in the sun?’
‘Don’t be foolish. Benedict is still a stripling and only just down from Oxford. Your father thought it wise to let him gain some town bronze before he settles to learning the management of the estate.’
‘What you mean is that he also plagued Papa until he was allowed to come.’
‘He will be here only a month, my dear, and someone had to escort Sophia. I cannot understand why you are so cross.’
Christabel took a deep breath and said with deliberation, ‘I am cross because I feel my hand is being forced. I understood that we would be here on our own for this Season and expected to have time and peace to consider my future. Now I have virtually the whole of my family breathing down my neck and pushing me into a marriage I don’t want.’
‘You don’t want it!’
Her mother looked scandalised and Christabel felt stunned. She hadn’t meant to acknowledge such troublesome feelings so starkly, even to herself, let alone express them aloud. She tried to recover her composure as best she could.
‘I understand my position, Mama, and I will do what is expected of me. But don’t demand that I am glad.’
And with that she turned on her heel and threaded her way swiftly through the still-cluttered hall and up the stairs to her room without another word. Brother and sister, still standing amidst the clutter of baggage, looked after her in surprise.
Once in her room, Christabel flung herself down on the satin counterpane and closed her eyes. The morning had been full of shocks and she was not coping well with them. She needed to pull herself together. Sophia was an unfriendly presence that she could have done without, but nothing more. As for Benedict, he would be filling Mount Street with noise and disturbance. Maybe that would be beneficial; it would help to distract her from the reality of her life. Which was what, exactly? Marriage to a man she did not love and hatred from the man she had once loved. The near-fatal accident, her siblings’ unwelcome arrival, her mother’s pretence, could all be forgotten. It was Richard’s undisguised hostility that stayed with her.
Early the next morning she woke to a household already on the move. She’d slept badly and wanted nothing more than to stay curled in bed. But very shortly Sophia bounced into her room, more than happy to explain the bustle.
‘Mama has said that I am to go shopping and you are to accompany me,’ she announced peremptorily.
Christabel blinked sleepily and reached for her cup of chocolate. ‘Don’t you already have enough clothes?’
‘No, I don’t. I shall need a completely new wardrobe to make a splash in London. You have a rail of exquisite dresses, so don’t be selfish, Bel!’ Her sister was at her most indignant.
She flounced out of the room only to be replaced by a second morning visitor.
‘Bel, my darling, I know you’re not happy about accompanying Sophia, but I would count it a great favour.’
‘I will go, of course, Mama, but I won’t be able to stop her buying the most dreadful clothes. She will listen to your advice far more readily than to mine.’
‘My dear, Sophia listens to no one, as you well know. And you have such elegant taste—I’m hoping some of it will rub off on her.’
Christabel did not share that hope, but felt it only right she attempt to help. Her mother was looking unusually tired and harassed by the sudden eruption of two youthful and demanding offspring into her hitherto peaceful household.
Within the hour they were in the carriage and on their way to Lady Harriet’s favourite modiste. The morning that followed was one Christabel never wished to repeat. Again and again she sought to dissuade the younger girl from unwise purchases: heliotrope was not on the whole an immensely flattering colour; a bonnet sporting six ostrich plumes and a cluster of brightly coloured gemstones might be thought a trifle vulgar; a dress of gauze worn over a transparent petticoat was unlikely to ingratiate her with the most illustrious members of the ton. But she was helpless against the onslaught of Sophia in full cry and could only watch in despair as the carriage gradually filled with an array of packages containing the most unsuitable attire.
The clothes had been costly and eaten up most of the very generous allowance bestowed by Lord Tallis and still they had not purchased gloves, slippers, reticules—all th
e myriad accessories necessary for a young lady about to embark on a social whirl. Christabel’s tentative suggestion that they go to the Pantheon Bazaar where she’d heard there were bargains to be had was received with surprising enthusiasm and they drove immediately to Grafton House. Very soon they found themselves immersed in stalls displaying an abundance of coloured muslins, ornate trimmings, silk stockings, fine cambric handkerchiefs, all at astonishing prices. The bazaar was not generally visited by ladies of high fashion, but within minutes of entering the emporium Sophia was exclaiming loudly over the bargains to be had. The only drawback to the shop was its popularity for by noon it was completely full and shopping had become a tedious business of jostling elbows. Both young ladies were heartily relieved when the last piece of lace and the last pair of kid slippers had been chosen. Their relief was short-lived, however, for the increasing crowds made it necessary to wait a considerable time to pay at the final counter.
Sophia had at last reached the head of the queue when Christabel heard a voice that was faintly familiar. She turned her head and caught a glimpse of a stylishly gowned woman holding in her hand a collection of colourful loo masks.
‘They will be just the thing, Aunt Loretta, if we go to Vauxhall—and you did promise!’ The woman’s younger companion was almost jumping with enthusiasm.
‘I think you’re stretching the word promise, Domino. I said we might go.’
But Domino had lost interest in the masks and was staring instead at Christabel. She darted forwards eagerly and offered her hand.
‘Miss Tallis, isn’t it? How are you feeling? I’m so sorry about the accident yesterday—I was worried about you.’
‘Thank you for your concern, but I’m perfectly well.’
‘Richard said that you would be fine and he’s always right. He said that you were the coolest of women and unlikely to suffer any disordered feelings. You see, I’ve remembered his words exactly.’
‘What accident, Domino?’ her aunt interjected.
The Earl Plays With Fire Page 3
