The Regency Season: Gentleman Rogues: The Gentleman Rogue / The Lost Gentleman. Margaret McPhee

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      ‘Browsing the wares.’ Ned’s eyes were cool. ‘Were we not, Mr Finchley?’

      ‘And fine wares they were, too,’ said Rob.

      ‘Matters equine take a knowledgeable eye.’ Which you do not have. That patronising air that Longley could not quite hide no matter how hard he tried. ‘And experience. I would be happy to teach you a thing or two.’

      ‘How kind.’ Ned smiled.

      The sentiment behind the smile was lost on Longley.

      ‘Where do you ride?’

      ‘I don’t.’

      ‘I did not know that,’ said Longley and tucked the tidbit away to share with his friends in White’s should matters not work out between him and Ned as he was hoping. ‘I suppose I should have realised, what with your not having come from—’ He stopped himself just in time.

      Ned held Longley’s gaze.

      The earl glanced away, cleared his throat and changed the subject to why he was standing here in Ned’s company tonight. ‘Lady Juliette is in good spirits tonight.’ Lady Juliette, Longley’s daughter for whom he was seeking a match with new money.

      ‘You must be pleased for her.’ From the corner of his eye he saw Rob struggle to stifle a grin.

      ‘Do not need to tell you that she was quite the diamond of this year’s Season. I am sure you are already aware of her.’

      ‘Very aware.’

      Longley smiled.

      ‘Quite the horsewoman as I recall,’ said Ned.

      Longley’s smile faltered as he realised the mistake he’d just made. He squirmed. ‘Not so much these days.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘Excuse me, sir. I see Willaston and have a matter to discuss with him.’

      A small bow and Longley took himself off, leaving Ned and Rob standing alone.

      There was a silence before Ned spoke. ‘There’s something you need to know, Rob. The Dowager Lady Lamerton has a new companion.’

      ‘You think I’m in with a shout?’ Rob grinned.

      Ned did not smile. His eyes held Rob’s. ‘Her name is Miss Emma Northcote.’

      Rob’s grin vanished. ‘Northcote? I thought the Northcotes were long gone. Moved away to the country.’

      ‘So did I.’ Ned thought of the truth of Emma Northcote and her father’s circumstance—the nights in the Red Lion Chop-House; the narrow street with its shabby lodging house; and the London Dock warehouse—and something tightened in his throat. He swallowed it down. Gave a hard smile. ‘It seems we were wrong.’

      ‘Hell.’ A whispered curse so incongruous in the expensive elegance of their surroundings as the shock made Rob forget himself. ‘That’s going to make things awkward.’

      ‘Why?’ Ned’s expression was closed.

      ‘You know why.’

      ‘I did nothing wrong. I’ve got nothing to feel awkward over.’

      ‘Even so.’

      ‘It isn’t going to be a problem. She isn’t going to be a problem.’ Not now he knew who she was.

      Both men’s gazes moved across the room as one to where Lady Lamerton sat with her cronies...and her companion.

      Northcote, not de Lisle, the worst lie of them all.

      He looked at the long gleaming hair coiled and caught up in a cascade of dark roped curls at the back of her head, at the sky-blue silk evening dress she was garbed in, plain and unadorned unlike the fancy dresses of the other ladies and obviously paid for by Lady Lamerton. She wore no jewellery. He knew that she would have none. The décolletage of her dress showed nothing other than her smooth olive skin. Long white silk evening gloves covered her arms and matching white slippers peeped from beneath the dress.

      She had seen him the minute she entered the ballroom. He knew it. Just as he knew she was ignoring him.

      ‘No,’ said Rob quietly. ‘Knowing you, I don’t suppose she will.’

      Ned’s eyes shifted from Emma to Rob. ‘Would you hold this for me?’ He passed his glass to Rob. ‘There’s something I have to do.’

      ‘You can’t be serious...’

      Ned smiled a hard smile.

      ‘Tell me you’re not going over there to get yourself introduced?’ Rob was staring at him as if he were mad.

      ‘I’m not going over there for an introduction. Miss Northcote and I have already had that pleasure.’

      Rob looked shocked.

      ‘But the lady and I didn’t get a chance to talk.’

      The music came to a halt. The dance came to an end. The figures crowded upon the floor bowed and curtsied and began to disperse.

      Ned glanced across the floor to Emma once more.

      ‘This won’t take long.’

      ‘Ned...’ Rob lowered his voice and spoke with quiet insistence.

      But Ned was already moving smoothly through the crowd, crossing the ballroom, his focus fixed on Emma Northcote.

       Chapter Six

      ‘Oh, my!’ Emma heard Miss Chichester exclaim as she stared in the direction where Ned Stratham stood talking with Mr Finchley and Lord Longley. ‘You are not going to believe this, Miss Northcote, but Mr Stratham—’

      Emma resisted the urge to look round. ‘I do not understand why Mr Stratham is of such fascination to the ladies of the ton,’ she interrupted. ‘He is just trade, for all his money.’ It was a cruel and elitist remark, but after what he had done he deserved it.

      Miss Chichester’s eyes widened. Her pale cheeks flushed ruddy. She gave a soft, breathless gasp and pressed a hand to her décolletage.

      ‘Indeed I am, Miss Northcote,’ Ned Stratham’s voice said. That same soft East End accent, that same slight edge underlying the quiet words.

      Emma’s heart stuttered. Her stomach turned end over end. She froze for a second before turning to look up into those too-familiar cool blue eyes.

      ‘Mr Stratham,’ she said with a controlled calm that belied the trembling inside. ‘You surprise me.’

      He smiled. ‘Evidently.’

      She held his gaze as if she were not embarrassed at being caught СКАЧАТЬ