Pursued For The Viscount's Vengeance. Sarah Mallory
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Название: Pursued For The Viscount's Vengeance
Автор: Sarah Mallory
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
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Speke left the door open once he had shown her into the drawing room. Which was as it should be, Deborah knew, to observe the proprieties, and this sign of the old butler’s regard helped her to greet her visitor calmly.
‘I am sorry my brother is not here to see you, Mr Victor.’
She gave a disarming smile, hoping it would distract him from the faint smell of stale wine that pervaded the room.
‘No doubt he is busy out of doors.’
‘Yes.’
No need to tell him the truth, that in all likelihood her brother was still sleeping off last night’s excesses. In her mind she could see Randolph falling unconscious in his chair and dropping his full wineglass on to the carpet. She had witnessed it herself too many times to doubt that is what had occurred.
‘I am on my way to view a house. Lagallan Manor.’ He waved a hand, as if to apologise for his riding coat. ‘I thought I should stop to pay my respects.’
‘That is very kind. Will you not sit down?’
‘Thank you.’
She took a seat and watched as he carefully placed his hat, gloves and riding crop on the side table before crossing the room and lowering himself into the chair opposite. There was strength and a lithe grace in every movement, she noticed. But then he had been a soldier, he was no idle fop.
‘Forgive me.’ His eyes flickered towards the open door. ‘You have no lady living with you?’
‘I live here alone with my brother, sir.’ One hand fluttered. ‘At four-and-twenty I am beyond the age of requiring a chaperon.’
He inclined his head silently and she was grateful he did not try to flatter her with insincere disclaimers.
‘So, you really are looking for a property, Mr Victor.’
‘Did you not believe me?’
‘Fallbridge is a small market town, the society is not...fashionable.’
‘I am not so hard to please and I found the company last night very enjoyable.’
There was nothing she could do to stop the blush rising and staining her cheeks. She was sure they must be crimson. Heavens, had she forgotten how to accept a compliment? As if to spare her embarrassment he turned to look out of the window.
‘The countryside around here is very fine; I should like to explore more of it. Of course, it always helps if one has someone local as a guide.’
He paused and Deb’s pulse leapt as she recognised that he was waiting for her to offer to accompany him. She might suggest they ride out together, or even to drive. It was such a long time since she had gone on an outing purely for pleasure. There could be no harm in it, as long as they were accompanied by a groom. It was very tempting, but she resolutely kept silent.
He was watching her and she looked away. She thought she heard him give a faint sigh.
‘But I am taking too much of your time, Miss Meltham.’
‘Not at all,’ she said politely, but she rose and walked with him to the door and they stood for a moment, so close she might have reached out and touched him. The alarming thing was that she very much wanted to do just that.
‘I believe there is another ball at the Red Lion next Thursday, Miss Meltham. I thought I might look in. Will you be there?’
Deb hesitated. She had resisted the temptation to go out riding with him, but why should she not enjoy herself, just a little? She smiled.
‘Yes, sir. I will be there.’
Gil stood before the looking glass, putting the finishing touches to his neckcloth. It was Thursday and he was going to the assembly at the Red Lion. He was going to see Deborah Meltham. A tingle of pleasurable anticipation rippled through him at the thought and his fingers fumbled the knot. Confound it, this was not intended to be an enjoyable encounter! With a muttered oath, he tore off the crumpled muslin and began again with a fresh cravat.
It is not too late to change your plans.
No. There was no other way. The law could not help him and killing Randolph Meltham would be too easy, the scoundrel must suffer as Gil had suffered. As his mother was still suffering at the loss of two of her children. Gil’s conscience might try to appeal to his finer feelings, but he reminded himself that he had none. Not any more, he thought bitterly. Years of warfare had seen to that. But he had to admit that if there was a way to have his revenge without involving Deborah Meltham, he would choose it.
He tucked away the ends of his cravat and stood back to survey the result. Perfect. As was his plan. He was a soldier and once resolved on a course of action he must stick to it. Whatever the consequences.
* * *
He delayed his arrival at the Red Lion until there was only a trickle of latecomers entering the rooms. He saw Deborah immediately. She was standing on the far side of the room, talking to the Gomershams. He suspected she had been watching for him, for as soon as he walked in she looked up. Even from this distance the pleasure in her face when she saw him was clear.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
He fought off the thought by reminding himself that it was his sister who was lying in the family tomb. His brother who had been slaughtered trying to defend her honour. He crossed the room, but it took time to reach her—first there were new acquaintances to be acknowledged, greetings to be made. At last he was there, standing so close he could see the pulse beating at her throat and smell the fresh, flowery perfume that she wore. She had not yet looked up at him, but she knew he was there, for there was a faint blush mantling her cheek and one hand had crept up to her shoulder in the same nervous gesture he had noticed on previous meetings.
He said, ‘I came, you see.’
She looked up then and her shy smile hit him like an iron fist in the chest, winding him. He realised with a shock that he would find it only too easy to woo her. Beside them, Sir Geoffrey was chuckling loudly.
‘Well, well, sir, you have not come here to talk with the likes of me tonight. I do not doubt you are here to dance, so off you go now with your pretty partner.’
Deborah was laughing and blushing at the same time and as Gil led her on to the dance floor he thought he had never seen her so animated. Even the gown, covering her from neck to toe, and her neatly coiled hair did not detract from it. It was no hardship to suggest they remain on the floor for a second dance.
When she did not answer, his fingers went instinctively to his cheek. Immediately her face softened and she put up a hand to draw his away.
‘It is not so very bad, you know,’ she said gently. ‘And it is not the reason I hesitated. There has been talk, you see. After we danced together twice at the charity ball.’
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