Engagement of Convenience. Georgie Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

      ‘Now you prefer bluestockings?’ Annette frowned. ‘I thought you felt education was wasted on women?’

      ‘I do. It leads a woman to interfere too much in a man’s business.’ He fixed an icy stare on his sister, who coloured under the remark, but said nothing.

      Julia sensed more to this conversation than a simple debate of female education, but having no interest in the intricacies of the Taylors’ personal business, she concentrated on enjoying her meal.

      ‘Julia, Jim was telling us the latest news from London regarding Napoleon,’ Uncle George announced. ‘It appears Admiral Nelson will face him before the month is out?’

      The food turned to dirt in her mouth. ‘Do you think so?’

      ‘It’s a very real possibility,’ the captain answered with measured words, fingering the spoon next to his plate.

      ‘Paul’s ship, HMS Pickle, is with Admiral Nelson’s fleet. He could be injured, or worse.’ Her voice quavered with worry and she didn’t care who heard it or what they thought.

      ‘Even if there is a battle, HMS Pickle is a small ship used to send messages or fetch supplies. She won’t see much action.’

      ‘But there’s still a chance Paul will be involved in the fighting?’

      ‘There is, but let’s hope if Admiral Nelson and your brother face him, the battle is quick and decisive in Britain’s favour.’

      His sympathetic eyes touched her and she wished they were alone so she could pour out all her worries to him. He would understand, perhaps even take her in his sturdy arms and, with tender, reassuring words, drive away all her fears for Paul.

      ‘Admiral Nelson will lose more than a battle if he continues his indiscretion with Mrs Hamilton,’ Annette added, indifferent to Julia’s concerns. ‘Don’t you agree, Captain Covington?’

      ‘I’m afraid I don’t follow town gossip,’ he answered, but Annette refused to relinquish his attention or the table’s.

      ‘Don’t you find his indiscretion scandalous?’

      Julia noticed the way his fingers tightened on the stem of his wine glass. ‘Great men are always granted some leeway.’

      ‘If society shunned him, then who would lead the Navy against France?’ Julia demanded, irritated by Annette’s prattle. ‘Or would you prefer the French on our shores? Perhaps they would be more delightful in the drawing room.’

      ‘How droll to discuss politics at dinner,’ Annette sniffed. ‘Captain Covington, you must tell me all about your sister’s wedding.’

      With a twinge of regret, Julia left the captain to Annette and focused on the dandy beside her. How could she possibly capture his interest? She couldn’t simply announce the size of her inheritance and hope he took the bait. Conversation seemed the key, but since his arrival they’d barely exchanged ten words. Now she had to captivate him with witty repartee? It seemed a Herculean feat, but one she had to accomplish.

      ‘Simon, do you ride?’ she asked in her most pleasing voice. The young man turned his pointed chin over his starched cravat, staring at her as though she possessed three heads.

      ‘Of course,’ he sneered.

      Julia clamped her hands together in her lap, screwing the smile on her face. ‘I suppose no country ride could compare to the fashionable hour in Rotten Row?’

      ‘On at least that point you are correct,’ he lisped, returning to his meal.

      Her cheeks burned with the strain of holding her smile. For a moment, the game felt like more trouble than it was worth, but the thought of having her own estate urged her on. ‘You must be an excellent horseman.’

      Simon’s knife and fork clanked against the plate. ‘I prefer the elegance of a phaeton—surely you’ve heard of them, even here in the country.’

      She resisted the urge to empty her plate in his lap, continuing to remain charming as though nothing was amiss. ‘Oh, yes. When I receive my inheritance I plan to purchase one. Perhaps you can help me select the best?’

      ‘Your inheritance?’ His bored eyes almost sparkled at the mention of money. She leaned towards him, dropping her voice.

      ‘Yes, I receive it as soon as I’m married. Tell me about your phaeton. I imagine it is one of the finest in London.’

      Just as she suspected, flattery worked. Simon puffed up at the opportunity to discuss himself. ‘It’s second only to the prince’s.’

      Despite the loss of her appetite, Julia soldiered on. ‘Oh, you know the prince? How wonderful.’

      ‘He complimented me on my rig.’ Simon’s voice dripped with pride.

      ‘Please, tell me all about it.’

      * * *

      What followed was the most boring and tortuous hour of Julia’s life as Simon described, in minute detail, his phaeton. From the corner of her eye she noticed Uncle George and Emily exchanging baffled looks. Even Captain Covington threw her a sideways glance and for a brief moment she felt ashamed of her plan. Only her mother seemed indifferent, slipping bits of food to Charlemagne, who sat on the floor next to her chair.

      ‘The squabs are far more comfortable than the average phaeton. I had the leather dyed dark green,’ Simon continued and Julia gazed up at him through her lashes, mimicking the way Annette flattered the captain. If only her dress were cut as deeply as Annette’s. However, such a ploy might make her scheme too obvious.

      After what felt like an eternity, Emily rose, ending dinner. ‘Shall the ladies retire to the drawing room?’

      Julia forced herself not to jump up and run into the adjoining room. Instead she smiled coyly at Simon as she rose. ‘Perhaps we can discuss it more later?’

      ‘Perhaps.’ He didn’t seem enthusiastic at the prospect.

      Massaging her aching cheeks, Julia followed the other women into the drawing room. Taking The Monk out of her dress pocket, she situated herself on the sofa to read, hoping the others would leave her in peace. Her hope was short lived when Emily walked over to the card table near the window and shuffled the deck. ‘Ladies, would you care for a game of piquet?’

      ‘I’d love to play,’ Annette announced, choosing her place at the table and taking the deck from Emily. ‘I’ll deal.’

      Julia buried her nose in her book, pretending not to hear the invitation, even when Emily cleared her throat to gain her attention.

      ‘Come play, Julia,’ her mother gently ordered.

      With a sigh, Julia put down her book and joined the others at the table.

      ‘We’re always playing in London and the stakes are often very high. Sometimes gentlemen lose a great deal at the tables,’ Annette explained, dealing the cards.

      ‘Perhaps the men of London are not very sensible, СКАЧАТЬ