Silk. PENNY JORDAN

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СКАЧАТЬ is absolutely furious with you,’ she informed Amber gleefully. ‘She is going to write to your grandmother and tell her that because of your behaviour she can’t possibly present you.’

      Amber’s first guilty thought was that someone must have seen her at the Ritz and somehow or other managed to inform Lady Rutland. However, Amber’s fear was put to rest when Louise continued, ‘Mummy says she couldn’t possibly endure the shame of presenting a débutante who can’t curtsy.’

      Amber exhaled shakily in relief. Innocent though she was, she was well aware that accepting an invitation from a strange man was a far more damaging social crime than not being able to curtsy. Not that she cared. She wouldn’t have missed her wonderful afternoon for anything.

      Lady Rutland was seated in front of the small campaign writing desk, which she had informed Amber and Blanche she had inherited from an ancestor who had fought at Waterloo.

      Amber still blushed to remember how her grandmother had responded coolly, ‘Really, it looks more Victorian than Georgian to me.’

      Although the footman had announced Amber, Lady Rutland continued to study the letter on the desk in front of her as though Amber simply wasn’t there, so that it was a good five minutes before she finally turned round and announced coldly, ‘One of the things that separates the upper classes from those lower down the social scale, Amber, is an awareness of the importance of certain values. The upper classes do not tell tales. It is simply not done. I have a letter here from your grandmother. In it she expresses concern because, as she puts it, “My granddaughter does not appear to be attending as many pre-presentation social events as I would have expected.”’

      Amber was mortified. Jay must have said something to her grandmother. Before she had left Denham she had pleaded with both Greg and Jay to write regularly to her. Greg was an unreliable correspondent, his letters stilted, betraying his desire to be enjoying his life rather than writing about it, but Jay’s letters were informative and interesting, just as though he was actually having a conversation with her, and gradually Amber had found herself writing more and more openly to him about her life here in London.

      Even though Jay had written back to her in a very serious manner that since her grandmother was paying Lady Rutland to bring Amber out, she was in effect taking money for something she was not doing, it simply hadn’t occurred to Amber that Jay would say anything to her grandmother.

      Now Amber understood why her grandmother’s most recent letter had requested a list of all those social events Amber had attended.

      ‘You will find that society does not like sneaks, Amber. I had hoped to protect your grandmother from the unpleasant news that her granddaughter has made a laughing stock of herself by not being able to perform a court curtsy, and that several society mothers have declined to invite you to their parties. However, now, thanks to your own foolishness, I have no choice but to inform her of the truth.’

      ‘I know that Louise is hoping that my grandmother will change her mind and that I shall be sent back home,’ Amber told Lady Rutland bravely, ‘but I shall not mind if she does.’

      Lady Rutland didn’t look as pleased to hear this as Amber had expected. In fact she looked extremely displeased.

      ‘There is no question of your returning home, Amber. I am simply warning you of the consequences of tale telling. In this instance I am prepared to give you a second chance. As it happens I had already been busy on your behalf begging some of my dearest friends to include you on their guest lists as a personal favour to me, and I hope to be able to write to your grandmother within a few days with a list of the pre-presentation invitations I have accepted on your behalf.’

      Lady Rutland’s unexpected about-turn confused Amber at first. She had expected to be sent home in disgrace but here she was being told instead that Lady Rutland was planning to take her to the very kind of parties from which she had previously been excluded. It was almost, Amber recognised, as though Lady Rutland were afraid of her grandmother.

      ‘At last. I have been in a fever of anxiety waiting for you. I telephoned you over an hour ago and told you that I must see you immediately. How cruel you are to me, Greg.’

      She had run to him, attempting to fling herself into his arms, but Greg held her off, his fury born of irritation and fear.

      ‘Caroline, you know we agreed that we would never telephone one another. Fortunately it was only Jay who picked up the receiver, and I managed to spin him some tale about you having a message for me from Lord Fitton Legh.’

      She obviously hadn’t liked being pushed away, because now she was pouting in that pseudo-baby way he had once found so adorable but which he now detested. She was twenty-three, for heaven’s sake, not seventeen.

      ‘Now what the devil was it that was so important you had to take such a risk and drag me over here?’

      ‘You haven’t said that you love me yet.’ Now she was being coquettish, and he found that equally unappealing.

      ‘Caroline—’

      ‘Say it.’

      ‘Now listen—’

      ‘Say it, Greg. You must say it otherwise I can’t bear to tell you.’

      She was crying now, her voice starting to rise. Greg looked anxiously towards the door to her bedroom.

      It was one thing to be in here with her by pre-arrangment when there was little chance of their being disturbed, and their relationship was a secret known only to the two of them, but Cassandra, who had been waiting for him outside on the drive and who had taken him into the house via a side entrance, had plainly known what was going on. And equally plainly did not approve, if the look of angry contempt she had given him had been anything to go by. Well, he wasn’t here by his own wish. In fact, if it was left up to Greg he would be happy never to see Caroline Fitton Legh again. Very happy, in fact.

      Dash it all, what exactly did a chap have to do to make it clear that he wasn’t interested any more? Caroline was no ingénue; she knew the rules of the game they had been playing. She had to do, married as she was to a man old enough to be her father, and one who, according to what Caro had told him, wasn’t up to much in the bedroom department.

      ‘Say it,’ she was insisting.

      If there was one thing Greg hated it was having his hand forced. His was an easy-going nature, but with a core of stubbornness. He didn’t love her any more and he was damned if he was going to say he did.

      ‘I’m not playing games,’ he told her. ‘I’ve got things to do.’ Greg headed for the door.

      His hand was on the door knob when Caroline said softly, ‘You were happy enough to play games with me once, Greg, and if those things you are so eager to do include that silly political career, well, you’d better think again. There’s to be a child.’

      His hands were clammy now and the door knob slipped in his grasp.

      ‘I’m honoured that you’ve told me, but surely that’s something between husband and wife,’ he blustered.

      ‘Or between the mother and the father of the child?’ Caroline suggested.

      Greg was panicking now. ‘Look, Caroline, this has gone far enough. What you and I shared together was fun and I shall always remember it, and you, with affection and … and tenderness. СКАЧАТЬ