Mistress in the Regency Ballroom: The Rake's Unconventional Mistress / Marrying the Mistress. Juliet Landon

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      He waited, then reached her in two strides, backing her into the hard edge of the opposite table. She gripped it, leaning away from him, seeing for the first time the crisp detail of his neckcloth, the white waistcoat and its silver buttons, undone at the top. Again, she breathed the faint aroma given off by his warm skin, but now there was to be no making of mental notes for her writing when he was so frighteningly close, no time to express how she was affected, or the sensation of her heart thudding into her throat.

      He placed a large knuckle beneath her chin, lifting it. ‘Yes, my beauty, I know. This is not what you planned, is it?’

      ‘Don’t call me that! I’m not your beauty, nor am I—’

      ‘And you can glare at me all you want, but this evening you will do as I say without argument and without biting my hand off. Do you hear me?’

      ‘I shall—’

      ‘Do you hear me? Without argument. Just for once, if you please.’

      She nodded, looking at his mouth, then at the faint bluish shadow around his jaw, then back to his eyes that had noted every detour. his thighs pressed against hers, and she understood that, suddenly, he was struggling to suppress an urge to do what he had done once before. She must prevent it. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered.

      He did not move. ‘Where are your spectacles? Have you another pair? Do you have them with you?’

      ‘In my reticule. Let me go, please.’

      ‘You will take my arm,’ he commanded, ‘and you will be civil.’

      ‘Yes, I will be civil.’

      ‘I have your word on it?’

      ‘Yes…now please…let me go.’ She took hold of his wrist, expecting it to move but, when she looked again at his eyes to find the cause of his delay, she saw how his gaze rested upon the staircase as if to measure its length. Panic stole upwards, fluttering inside her bodice. Her fingers tightened over the soft fabric of his coat-cuff. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t…please don’t.’She saw the reflection of the two wall-lamps in his eyes, heavy-lidded with desire.

      ‘I could,’ he said, ‘but I suppose they will not delay the performance of Shakespeare for us, so we’d better go. Come, my beauty, adjust your shawl. There, now take my arm, and try to remember what you have agreed.’

      Speechless and shaken, she did as she was told. Arm in arm they went out into the cool evening, pulling the heavy door closed behind them.

      Earlier that afternoon she had formed a clear plan of where everyone would sit, herself being nowhere near Lord Rayne. However, arriving at the theatre only a few minutes later, Letitia found her plans already displaced by the earlier arrival of the day girls, their parents and friends. Although Miss Sapphire Melborough clearly hoped that Lord Rayne would join her parents in their box, he merely bowed politely, held a few words of conversation with her mother, then rejoined Letitia, taking the two seats left over after the others had taken theirs. It was not at all what Letitia had intended, and Rayne knew it as he quelled her budding protest with a stern glance, positioning her chair next to his at the back of the box and almost herding her into it with one uncompromising word. ‘There,’ he said.

      She delayed for as long as she dared but, in the end, there was nothing for it but to accept the situation when the musicians in the pit ceased playing and the curtain glided upwards. The scene of merchants and their clients against a background of Venetian waterways would normally have riveted her attention. But this time she was sitting close to Lord Rayne against the high back of the box with a partition on one side of her, and her usually obedient concentration was distracted by the sensation that, for all her determination to deny him any sign of encouragement, he had won that round with ease.

      He had another way of putting it, in a whisper, when she turned slightly to glance at him. Catching her angry expression, his unsmiling eyes made his advice all the more telling. ‘Stop fighting me, my beauty. I intend to win.’

      Turning her attention to her reticule, she drew out a pair of pocket spectacles that swung inside a mother-of-pearl cover, holding them to her eyes as if his words meant nothing. But the spectacles trembled, and she knew he had seen before she transferred them to her other hand.

      That evening at Richmond’s Theatre Royal was to be remembered for many reasons, the chief of which was the way in which Lord Rayne attended to her needs as they had not been since her father died, not even by Mr Waverley. Independent to a fault, she had intended to take charge of the event, putting herself last, as usual, in spite of there being enough adults to watch over the three boarders. But if she had thought they would prefer her to the others, she was wrong. They did not need her, and she had no other role to play except to stay by Rayne’s side, where he wanted her.

      ‘Miss Melborough is hoping you will visit her,’ she said.

      ‘Then she will be disappointed. This evening, Miss Boyce, I am with no one but you, and you will not get rid of me.’

      ‘Hasn’t this gone on long enough, my lord?’ she said, demurely, opening and closing her spectacle-cover. ‘You’ve made your point, I think. You’ve had your fun and enjoyed the stares. But these girls are my pupils, and you place me in a very awkward position by paying me this attention one evening and then, as you are sure to do, paying the same kind of attention to someone else next time they see you. They all know you and my sisters are seen in each other’s company. They know that Sapphire’s parents are keen on an alliance. I am not unused to being talked about in one way or another, but this evening will not be easy for me to live down, my lord. Perhaps you think you’re doing me some kind of favour, but I assure you, you’re not. Surely you can see that?’

      Handing her a glass of negus, he took the spectacles from her and popped them into the opening of the reticule that hung on her arm. ‘It’s a great pity, in a way,’ he said, ‘that you overheard what you did, for now it will be harder than ever for me to convince you that I am not simply flirting with you.’

      ‘You are mistaken in the matter, Lord Rayne. I was convinced you were doing exactly that at our first meeting. I’m afraid I cannot be unconvinced, nor would any woman be, in the same circumstances.’

      ‘That would not have happened to any woman, Miss Boyce.’

      ‘No, of course not. How often does one encounter a shortsighted, lost schoolmistress? Not one of your greatest challenges, I would have thought.’

      He sighed. ‘Miss Boyce, will you try to dredge from the depths of your deep intellect something we agreed on before we set out? Something you gave me your word on, if you need a clue?’

      ‘Yes, my lord, but—’

      ‘Good. Then keep it, will you?’

      ‘But you haven’t answered my question.’

      ‘Oh? I thought I had. I wish you would listen as well as you talk.’

      ‘Odious man!’ she muttered.

      Mr Waverley was amused by the new partnership. ‘What’s happened, Lettie? The fellow’s sticking to you like glue. I think he’s smitten.’

      ‘Fudge!’ she said. ‘Bart, rescue me. Walk home with me. Don’t СКАЧАТЬ