The Husband Season. Mary Nichols
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Название: The Husband Season

Автор: Mary Nichols

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

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      ‘With the greatest of pleasure,’ he said, offering them an arm each and smiling to himself when Sophie hesitated before taking it.

      They found four seats in the middle of the room, and he found himself seated between Sophie and her aunt. He had a little time to study her while she perused the programme she had found on her chair. She was lovely, there was no doubting that, with her fresh complexion, fair curls and expressive blue eyes, which he could not see because she was determined not to look in his direction. He could hardly believe she was the same girl he had rescued from the soldiers, nor the one he had seen flaunting herself in that high-perch phaeton with that coxcomb, Sir Reginald Swayle. He hadn’t known his name at the time, only having been introduced to him at White’s.

      ‘Are you enjoying your stay in London?’ he asked her.

      ‘So far,’ she said, without looking at him.

      ‘Only so far?’

      ‘Well, one never knows what is around the corner, does one?’

      ‘No, nor whom one might meet,’ he added.

      ‘Very true, and sometimes they are not the people one would wish to meet.’

      ‘I am sorry if that has happened to you,’ he said, assuming she meant him. ‘But sometimes we find ourselves in situations where it cannot be avoided.’

      ‘Quite.’

      There was a long silence after this. She was evidently not in the mood to explain herself and as the seats were filling up and the musicians tuning their instruments ready to begin, he gave up trying. Instead, he turned to Lady Cartrose, but as she could not hear what he was saying above the noise of the orchestra and people talking round them, he gave that up, too.

      Mark came in to introduce the quartet that was going to provide the opening music and everyone ceased chatting and turned towards the front.

      The seats were so close together, Adam was very aware of the girl beside him; he had only to lean a little sideways and their arms and heads would touch. She appeared engrossed in the music, but there was a tension in the air around her that told him she was not unmindful of his proximity. What was she thinking? Was she wishing him anywhere but where he was? He ought to reassure her he would not speak of the episode with the soldiers, or her indiscretion in riding in the phaeton; it would not be the action of a gentleman. But perhaps it would be better to remain silent.

      * * *

      Refreshments were served during the intermission and Adam had perforce to escort his uncommunicative ladies to the dining room, where they were joined by Mr and Mrs Malthouse and Cassandra, and Lord and Lady Martindale with Lucinda.

      It was immediately apparent that Miss Sophie Cavenhurst was not normally taciturn, because she entered into a lively exchange with Cassandra and Lucinda about the merits of the music and the audience and their dress.

      ‘Your gown is exquisite,’ Cassandra said to Sophie. ‘Where did you find that lovely fabric? That green reminds me of sage shot through with silver.’

      ‘My sister found it for me. It might have come from India. Both my brother and brother-in-law spent some time out there. They may have brought it back.’

      ‘And the style is so elegant. Don’t you think so, my lord?’

      Thus appealed to, Adam turned towards Sophie as if to study her sage-green gown, although he had already decided he had rarely seen anything so becoming. It was exquisitely made and fitted the young lady’s figure beautifully. ‘Most certainly,’ he said. ‘But your own gown, Miss Malthouse, is a match for it. It suits its wearer to perfection.’

      Cassandra blushed crimson. ‘You are too kind, my lord.’

      ‘You must not leave Miss Martindale out of your praises,’ Sophie said, smiling at her old friend. ‘I think that pale pink is just right for her colouring.’

      ‘I had no intention of leaving the young lady out,’ he said. ‘You are all three beauties of the first order. I am at a loss to choose between you and you must therefore excuse me.’ He bowed to each in turn and made his escape.

      He joined Mark, who was standing a little to one side, making sure everyone was being looked after, ready to send for more dishes of food as those on the table emptied.

      ‘You haven’t lost your touch, I see,’ Mark said, looking towards the trio. ‘Three young ladies hanging on your every word. I fancy there will be three handkerchiefs thrown down ere long.’

      ‘I shall not stoop to pick them up, Mark. I collect I told you, I have no intention of marrying again.’

      * * *

      ‘I wonder how long he will be in town,’ Cassandra mused. ‘Do you think he will come to my ball if I invite him?’

      ‘Oh, so you are going to set your cap at him, are you?’ Sophie said.

      ‘Why not? He is not unhandsome and he has a title.’

      ‘And wealth,’ Lucinda put in.

      ‘How do you know that?’ Sophie demanded.

      ‘I asked Papa and he said he has a vast estate in Yorkshire and owns a woollen mill, as well.’

      ‘Yorkshire. I am sure I should never want to live there,’ Sophie said.

      ‘No doubt he would bring his wife to town as often as she wanted to come,’ Lucinda said.

      ‘You, too, Lucy?’ Sophie queried.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Both of you bowled over by a handsome face and a few compliments.’

      ‘Oh, so you are not, I suppose,’ Cassandra said.

      ‘Of course not. Anyone can learn to pay compliments. Besides he is too old and a widower and I will not play second fiddle to a dead wife.’

      ‘I didn’t know that,’ Lucinda said.

      ‘What does it matter?’ Cassandra was not to be put off. ‘She can’t hurt anyone, can she? I am going to ask Mama to invite him to my come-out ball. He will be duty bound to stand up with me.’

      ‘Then, I wish you joy of him,’ Sophie said.

      She knew she was being silly, but Viscount Kimberley disturbed her more than she was willing to admit. Her embarrassment at finding the man who had rescued her from the soldiers was her brother-in-law’s cousin was profound. She could not treat him like a stranger, could not dismiss the whole incident with a shrug of her shoulders, especially as he had afterwards seen her with Reggie in his phaeton. How much of that would he tell Mark? Mark might tell Jane and she would be fetched home in disgrace. If only tonight had been their first meeting, then she might have felt the same way as her two friends. She envied them. He was not laughing at them.

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