Regency Society Collection Part 1. Sarah Mallory

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      Anthony returned to his chair and waited until the door closed behind her, and then waited a little longer. He imagined her progress through the house and out of the front door. Then he drained his wine in a gulp, and called for his valet.

      The man appeared like a ghost behind him. ‘Sir?’

      ‘Patrick, bring me brandy. And plenty of it.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’ Patrick was resigned to his master’s behaviour, even if he did not approve of it. He left the room and reappeared a short time later, carrying a tray laden with a full bottle of the best brandy in the cellars.

      Patrick poured the first glass, and when he seemed to be finished, his master signalled him with a raising of the hand. ‘Eh, eh, eh, a little more, still.’ Tony watched the level rise in the glass. He held up a hand. ‘Stop. That’s the ticket. And keep them coming, Patrick.’ He drank half the brandy and blurted, ‘That woman. I swear, Patrick, she will be the death of me. I cannot countenance what she did, just now.’ He finished the glass, and held it out to be refilled.

      ‘First she snubs me in public, and makes it known to me that she prefers another. Then she comes to me, soft and willing, just as I’ve always dreamed she would. She is finally here, and wants my help. And at any time, does she recognise me? No.’

      ‘It has been a long time, sir. Both you and she have changed significantly.’

      ‘One thing has not changed. She did not want me then, and she does not want me now. Did you see her? Dear God.’ He allowed himself a moment of carnal pleasure at the memory. ‘No stays, thin silk gown, and I swear she’d damped the skirts.’ He shook his head. ‘Like a French woman. Nothing left to imagination, not that my imagination needs any help when it comes to her. But she should not have been out in the streets in that condition. She’d catch her death. She made it quite clear, in the library today, that she wanted no part of me, and that our association was an embarrassment.

      ‘Very well. I do not need to be told twice. I meant to avoid her in the future. If she does not want me, then there is no point in making an even greater fool of myself than I have been.’ He stared down into his second brandy. He was already feeling the effects of the first, and thought the better of the second drink, tossing the contents of the glass into the fire, listening to the spirits hissing in the flames.

      ‘A few hours pass, and she comes to my room dressed to seduce me. Very well, thinks I. She has no trouble acknowledging me when we are alone. If I had any pride, I would refuse her. Which would prove I’m an even bigger fool than I thought, for how can I turn down an offer like this? She’s been married long enough to know what’s what and widowed long enough to miss it. She might ignore me tomorrow, but the morning is a long way off, and we’ll have a time of it tonight.’

      He stared down into his empty glass, and Patrick shook his head and poured again.

      ‘And why did she come to me? She wants me to steal for her. Not a problem, of course. I’d die for her, if she but asked. Burglary is not a sticking point. And if I did, she would deign to lie with me. Afterwards. In gratitude.’ He closed his eyes and drank more slowly this time.

      ‘She looked at me with those sherry-coloured eyes, and hung her head as though the path to my bed was a passage to Botany Bay.’ He finished the brandy and said sadly, ‘It was not the way I’d imagined it.’

      Patrick looked at him in disappointment. ‘What you have wanted for half your life was here, within your grasp. And you choose instead to send it away and call for a brandy bottle.’

      ‘It wasn’t what I wanted,’ he argued. ‘Her gratitude, indeed.’

      ‘What, exactly, do you want from her, then, if not to lie with her?’

      ‘I want her to see me for who I am, even if she cannot see me for who I was. All she sees is the thief, Patrick. And to catch him, she was willing to be the whore that a thief deserved.’ He thought back to the sight of her, her breasts swaying beneath her gown, her legs outlined by the cloth. ‘Not that I minded, seeing her. But I wager she does not dress thusly when she is trying to impress Endsted.’

      ‘Would you wish her to, sir?’

      ‘No. Of course not. If it were my choice, she would not see Endsted, again, under any circumstances. And I would make damn sure that he never got to see what I saw tonight. The man is an utter prig. I doubt he’d have known what to do with her, in any case.’

      ‘Unlike you, sir, Endsted would have sat there like a lecher, staring at her charms while making it clear that he disapproved of her behaviour. And then he would have insulted her by sending her away. She would have gone home, with head hung low and near tears, convinced that she was in some way morally repellent or deformed in body. I am sure she will think twice in the future before exposing to the gentleman in question any sign of interest or vulnerability that might lead to further ridicule.’

      Tony ignored the dark look that Patrick was giving him, to drive the point home. ‘You’re saying I should go to her, then. Apologise.’

      Patrick nodded. ‘Because there is nothing that will make amends better than appearing on her doorstep after half a bottle of brandy, and trying to say the things in your heart that you cannot manage to say when you are sober.’

      ‘Damn it, Patrick. Other men’s valets will at least lie to them when they have made fools of themselves.’

      ‘If it is any consolation, sir, Lord Endsted’s valet often has cause to lie to his master on that score. We have discussed it.’

      Tony held up a hand. ‘Let us hear no more of Viscount Endsted. My night is quite grim enough, without thinking of him, or knowing that valets trade stories when they are gathered together. It chills the blood. Instead, tell me, Patrick, since you are so full of honesty, what am I to do to make amends with the Duchess of Wellford?’

      ‘Perhaps, sir, it would go a long way to restoring her good humour, if you did the thing that she wished you to do in the first place.’