Regency Rogues: A Winter's Night. Elizabeth Beacon
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Название: Regency Rogues: A Winter's Night

Автор: Elizabeth Beacon

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781474098892

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ a pastry cook to be shocked by the quality sneaking out through their domain with a few flustered giggles from the so-called ladies and a bad-dog smirk from a happy-looking gentleman who was stealing away from this wild party with a woman under each arm.

      ‘Lucky dog,’ the chef said with a regretful sigh and a jaded look at the bridling cook, as if to say some men had all the luck tonight and he wasn’t one of them.

      ‘Devils the lot of them and just look at that brazen hussy flaunting her legs and everything else she has like some doxy in the Haymarket,’ the cook said in disgust. ‘All of them no better than they should be and yet they calls themselves quality, disgusting is what I say they are.’

      Verity giggled delightedly and Eve gave Carter an angry nudge to let him know he would have to put more of his weight on her shoulders if he was to pass as a run-of-the-mill rake and not a limping one. ‘La, but he’s even more drunk than I thought he was,’ she hissed at Verity in a stage whisper, hoping any sign of a stagger in his step would seem to be from too much alcohol and not war.

      ‘Let’s hurry up then, before he finds another bottle and climbs into it for the night,’ her devious little relative by marriage replied in the affected tones of a lady intent on being very unladylike indeed and daring the world to stop her.

      Eve managed a false titter and even wiggled her hips so provocatively the chef ought to remember her walk and not Carter’s, if anyone asked him to describe such a disgraceful trio, should the Louburn brothers escape and start baying for Carter’s blood.

      ‘You win,’ he murmured so softly only she could hear him and he finally let some of his weight fall on her shoulder until they were safely across the vast kitchen and out of the open door, into the dark coldness of the night and up stone steps into the street that served the back of these tall town houses.

      ‘Hush,’ he ordered them both when Verity would have said something gleeful about their lucky escape and danced about in triumph, ‘you’re not safe home yet. Take off that mask now and button yourself up again before you catch your death, there’s a good girl.’

      Eve could sense Verity’s mouth firming sulkily at being called a good girl after such a grown-up adventure, but if anyone deserved to be treated like a naughty schoolgirl tonight it was she. ‘Or shall we call you a crass idiot for what you did tonight if you prefer not to be called so?’ she whispered severely in Verity’s ear.

      ‘I’m so sorry, Eve, really I am,’ the contrary, exasperating and disarming girl said humbly.

      ‘There will be plenty of time for all that later,’ Carter told them both impatiently.

      Eve felt his fingers searching for the strings of her mask because she hadn’t hurried to do as she was bid fast enough. This has to stop, she told herself, as her breath caught at the heady sensation of his fingers winnowing through her disordered curls. A foolish little shiver slid down her neck when he brushed against her vulnerable-feeling nape and the whole of her body wanted to respond to him as if he was her lover now. A longing she had never wanted to feel until she met him shook her right down to her toes. She told herself it was a sigh of relief that she let out when he found the strings of her mask, undid it and put the silly, frivolous thing in his pocket before she could grab it as a keepsake of a night she ought to want to start forgetting even before it was properly over.

      ‘That’s better, this time we are going to be a respectable, middling sort of couple with a very sulky young gentleman in our charge. As long as you keep that cap on and don’t speak above a whisper we may get away with it in the dark, Miss Verity,’ he said softly as he pushed the odd stray wisp of golden hair under the velvet jockey cap Verity had at least had enough sense to wear when she set out on this shocking scrape tonight.

      Carter offered Eve his arm as if they were about to take a stroll in the park and what could she do but take it like the obedient wife she was supposed to be right now? Control of their latest misadventure had slipped inexorably from her fingers the moment they got into Warlington House and she supposed he had got them this far without disaster, so she might as well go along with officer Carter for a little longer. They crept round the most shadowy edge of the square and were soon out of it and back in the wider world again. Eve allowed herself a moment to imagine how it would feel to be creeping through the darkness without him and terror whispered in her ear. Luckily he was here, though, and she could wait to review imagined terrors when they were safely at home and in their beds. Right now it was still quite early by ton standards, so now and again a fashionable town carriage would rattle past on the way to a different party or to clubs and less public assignations. It wasn’t as busy as it would be in the spring, but Mayfair was still lively on a chilly October night.

      Eve was glad she could walk in Carter’s shadow as they passed tall town houses where entertainments were being held tonight, or a smart coach swept past on the way to somewhere else. How could she feel so safe and oddly interested in how the night felt when she wasn’t part of that busy round of doing nothing much in grand style? Because Carter was here, she let herself know. His muscular arm was warm under her fingers and his body so close it felt as though he was her security and such a sure strength—why would she let him go at the end of this reckless adventure? You know why, common sense and her mother’s blasted reputation whispered in her ear and how ardently she wished they would go away right now.

      ‘Is there some way you can get back inside without being found out?’ Carter murmured when they finally reached Farenze House and all seemed serene, so at least neither she nor Verity had been missed.

      ‘Yes,’ Eve whispered. ‘Goodnight and thank you, Mr Carter.’

      ‘Hasn’t he got a given name?’ Verity asked a bit too loudly.

      ‘Hush, Verity, and don’t be nosy. Remember what you did tonight before you say another word to those of us who were forced to lie and risk far too much to rescue you from your stupidity.’

      ‘I was going to say then we are deeply in your debt, whoever you are, sir,’ Verity managed with almost grown-up dignity.

      ‘Please don’t mention it and I mean that in every sense, by the way. It will be best if we pretend we can’t really remember one another if we ever happen to meet again, Miss Revereux. Now I must bid you both goodnight and try to smuggle myself back into Derneley House unseen, before Mr Carter scandalises the whole neighbourhood by being caught out here with two young ladies so late at night.’

      A brief touch of Eve’s hand as if he was bidding goodnight to a nodding acquaintance and Mr Carter strode off into the darkness as if they had imagined him. He might be gone from their sight, but Eve knew somehow that he stopped to watch them creep inside the house and make sure they were finally safe. He was simply that sort of man, she admitted to herself as she rushed Verity up the stairs so she could light a candle and show it at the window just long enough for him to know they were safe home and had not been caught.

      ‘Go to bed, Verity, you will answer to me in the morning and you’re lucky I didn’t call Papa and Chloe back from their dinner with the Laughraines. I only decided not to do so because I won’t have Chloe upset by your idiocy at the moment and risk harming the baby.’

      ‘I thought you weren’t going to ring a peal over my head until tomorrow,’ Verity said sulkily.

      ‘Then you’d best hurry to get into bed before I change my mind, and before you do kindly hide that disgraceful disguise you stole before Bran finds it and raises the roof,’ Eve ordered wearily, sinking down on to her own feather bed and wondering if she had it in her to undress, let alone brush her curls into good order, then hide the best gown she must somehow get back to the head housemaid’s room СКАЧАТЬ