An Unconventional Miss. Dorothy Elbury

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СКАЧАТЬ Stevenage accepted his host’s offer with alacrity, reasoning that it would be well worth sitting through a few hours of unintelligible caterwauling just for the pleasure of seeing Jessica again. Olivia, he felt certain, would be more than happy to accompany him.

      

      When the siblings arrived at the theatre, however, he found Jessica strangely preoccupied. She seemed pleased to see both him and his sister again and even offered him a very pretty apology for ignoring his advice the other day. But then, apart from enquiring after Olivia’s health, she seemed disinclined to say much at all and, by the time they had been shown to their box and settled themselves into their appointed seats, the performance was ready to begin. After that, although Stevenage made valiant attempts to catch her eye throughout the first act, the volume of sound issuing from the combined talents of the orchestra and chorus, coupled with the constant hubbub from the patrons in the cheaper seats in the gallery above, pretty well drowned out any real attempt at conversation. Heaving a sigh, and hoping for better luck in the interval, he tried to concentrate his attention on the stage but, after some few minutes, gave this up, having been unable to fathom out what the devil was going on!

      As his frustration and boredom increased, his eyelids gradually drooped, then closed and, had not the act climaxed on a sudden, rousing crescendo, he might well have fallen asleep. Instantly on the alert, his eyes flew open and he was up on his feet almost before the curtains closed. Motioning to Nicholas, he was just about to suggest that both they and the two girls might use this opportunity to slip out into the corridor and stretch their legs for a few minutes, when he heard Jessica’s excited whisper.

      ‘Nicky! Nicky!’ She was clutching at her brother’s arm. ‘Look over there! The third box from the stage! I’m certain that that’s him!’

      ‘Him—who?’ Momentarily confused, Nicholas peered across the crowded auditorium. Then, as his eyes settled on the box his sister had indicated, his face cleared. ‘By Jove, I believe you’re right!’ he exclaimed, and almost fell off his chair in his eagerness to reach his half-brother, in order to point out Jessica’s discovery to him. ‘It’s that Wyvern fellow, Matt,’ he cried jubilantly. ‘Look! Over there! Ought we to go across and speak to him, do you suppose?’

      Jessica’s emerald eyes were alight with excitement and she could feel her heart beating at the most incredible rate. She had spent the past three days in hourly expectation of the stranger calling to enquire after their welfare. Why this had become such a matter of importance to her, she was at a loss to fathom, especially when she recalled the stranger’s high-handed attitude towards her. Yet the very sight of him, sitting a mere twenty-five yards across from her, was causing her to experience a quite extraordinary fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

      He was not alone. Seated to one side of him was a very elderly lady, who was one of the most formidable-looking females that Jessica had ever set eyes upon. She could not recollect having been introduced to such an aristocratic dowager at any of the many illustrious events she had attended and, since the lady was hardly the sort of person one could readily forget, she concluded that she, along with her escort, must be newcomers to town.

      Sliding her eyes across to the second female in the box, she gave a gasp of dismay. Unless she was much mistaken, the man’s other companion was Felicity Draycott, one of a coterie of coolly elegant, but rather haughty, damsels who had spent the greater part of Jessica’s time in town offering her the cold shoulder! Not that this had bothered Jessica unduly, since she had been enjoying herself far too much to pay a great deal of attention to their disapproving glances. But, why on earth such a devilishly handsome and elegantly turned-out man would want to waste himself on such a toplofty companion she could not begin to fathom—unless, of course, the Draycott female was some sort of relative of his! Having decided that this was the only reasonable conclusion that could be reached, her lips began to curve, her eyes grew bright and, as she watched Matt enter Wyvern’s box, a shudder of excited anticipation ran through her.

      Stevenage, who had been observing her growing excitement, demanded to know what all the fuss was about. ‘Why all this sudden interest in Ben Ashcroft?’ he asked, somewhat tetchily.

      ‘Ashcroft?’ said Imogen, turning towards him, a bewildered look on her face. ‘I was given to understand that the gentleman’s name was Wyvern?’

      Stevenage shrugged. ‘Yes, well, since he’s just inherited his brother’s title, I suppose it would be more proper to refer to him as Lord Wyvern,’ he replied indifferently. ‘I met him when he was an officer with the 13th Light. Our units were quartered together when I was in Paris last year. He’s only just returned home.’ He paused momentarily then, turning back to Jessica, he said, ‘Funnily enough, he was at the Rose and Crown the other day, when we were there—he’d stopped to water his horse and have a bite to eat, so he told me.’

      ‘At the Rose and Crown!’ cried Jessica, in astonishment. ‘I don’t remember seeing him! And you say you spoke to him? Where was this?’

      ‘In the taproom,’ replied Stevenage, with a puzzled frown. ‘After you and Nicky took off—why so much interest in the fellow?’

      ‘He’s only the chap who saved us from those two thugs!’ exploded Nicholas. Then, as a sudden thought occurred to him, he added, ‘I suppose it must have been you who told him who we were?’

      Stevenage flushed, remembering that after Jessica and her brother had driven off, instead of returning directly to his sister as he had planned, he had stomped off into the taproom and tossed back quite a large quantity of brandy, in order to try to quell his feelings of helpless frustration.

      ‘Possibly,’ he replied warily. ‘I don’t actually recall the entire conversation.’

      He did, however, have the most uncomfortable feeling that his exasperation at Jessica’s having ignored his advice, coupled with the effects of imbibing a good deal more liquor than was his usual custom, might well have caused him to express his opinions about her cussedness rather more freely than propriety demanded.

      ‘No sweat, Harry,’ said Nicholas absently, his attention still on the box opposite. ‘We just wondered how he came by the information—oh, look! They’re shaking hands and Matt is leaving!’

      In barely suppressed expectation, Jessica awaited the return of her brother, her mind awhirl with possibilities. Had he invited the stranger—no, Lord Wyvern, now, she reminded herself—to call on them? Or, perhaps, to join them for dinner? She looked over at the earl’s box and a little shiver of excitement ran through her as she saw that Wyvern, having returned to his seat, was now looking in their direction. He was even more handsome than she had remembered! Her eyes shone more brightly than ever and, cheeks dimpling, she beamed one of her most enchanting smiles across the auditorium.

      When Beresford returned to their box, however, the information that he carried with him was hardly promising. Wyvern had, of course, been everything that he should be. Glad to meet an old acquaintance of his late brother, more than happy to have been of service to the two young travellers, and so on. He had thanked Beresford for his invitations and had assured him that he would do his best to call on the family at some time in the near future but, because of pressing business commitments, he was unable to say when that might be.

      

      On the other side of the theatre, Wyvern, in spite of himself, found his gaze drawn to the box opposite. For some inexplicable reason, he found himself more than interested to register Jessica’s reaction to her brother’s announcement. He did not have long to wait. No sooner had the gist of Matt’s words begun to sink in than the dazzling smile was dashed from her lips, only to be replaced by an expression of the most profound disappointment.

      Wyvern’s СКАЧАТЬ