A Most Improper Proposal. Molly Ann Wishlade

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СКАЧАТЬ Lady Castlereagh looked curiously at him then followed the direction of his gaze.

      Isabella Adams turned, as if sensing his presence, and he held his breath.

      Though she held his eyes for mere seconds it felt like hours, leaving her image engraved upon his mind. Her pretty gown was now hidden beneath a damask velvet cloak and only her cream silk gloves and ringlet clad head could be seen. But even across the length of the hall he could see the golden rings at the centre of her eyes and he stared, mesmerized at how they twinkled in the candlelight. His groin tightened and his member moved against the tight material of his breeches. There was that overwhelming urge again… to cross the room to her side and to take her in his arms. The power of his desire both confused and pleased him, for it had been so long since he’d felt anything arousing at all.

      But in a swirl of her cloak, she disappeared through the doorway and out into the night, leaving him wondering if he really had seen a ghost of a smile on her full pink lips before she turned away. Or had it just been his desire to see her smile?

      When he turned to the woman at his side, she smiled but he could sense her disapproval.

      ‘Your aunt’s companion, Miss Adams.’

      Was it a question?

      He did not know how to answer so he waited for further clues.

      ‘Do you know much about her, Lord Crawford?’

      ‘I must admit that I do not, Lady Castlereagh, for we have only become acquainted this very day. But I am sure, that as a guest of my aunt’s admitted to Almack’s, the young lady must have a flawless reputation.’

      A frown passed over Lady Castlereagh’s face and James experienced a sinking feeling in his gut. Whatever could be wrong with Miss Adams? She was clearly not a debutante and appeared to be several years past eighteen but she was still young and he could understand how some men might find her attractive. Like you…

      He had to admit that she stirred something within him, something that he believed he had long since buried. He realised that he was not being objective when he thought that she was still of marriageable age, still young enough to bear children. Any man would be lucky to make children with such a woman.

      ‘Lord Crawford, you must pardon me for I have a dilemma…’

      ‘Madam?’ he queried when she paused for several seconds.

      ‘We do only admit those with apparently flawless reputations to our exclusive club. However, your aunt…’

      ‘Is a powerful lady,’ he finished her sentence.

      The lady nodded, staring into the distance as if seeking the correct way to explain matters to him.

      ‘And she…’ Lady Castlereagh patted her closed fan against her skirt. A burst of applause from above them signalled the end of the waltz and they both raised their eyes, aware that the dancers would soon be seeking some refreshments. ‘If I explain this to you, you must promise not to repeat it… for I would not wish to suggest that your aunt is guilty of blackmail nor that any of our patronesses are less than they would seem to be. The club simply cannot face any scandal.’

      ‘I understand and you have my word that my lips are sealed.’

      She pursed her lips before continuing. ‘Lady Watson used her influence to gain access to the club for her companion. In short, although I was not at the mercy of her knowledge…’ He smiled briefly, aware that Lady Castlereagh was in possession of a flawless reputation. ‘Some of our other ladies were.’

      He fought the smile that threatened to broaden, twitching at the corners of his mouth.

      ‘I see.’ James squeezed her hand. ‘So are you at liberty to explain to me why Miss Adams required my aunt’s influence to gain admittance?’

      Lady Castlereagh scanned their surroundings, as if checking that no one was listening. ‘Let us move out of the hallway and find somewhere quieter and I will tell you what I know.’

      James took her arm in his and led her into the high-ceilinged supper room. He walked slowly and fought the urge to hurry her in order to find out what it was that Isabella Adams had done wrong. Though he barely knew the girl, she was in a very close relationship with his aunt and if she was unsuitable then… then what? What exactly would he do? Express his disapproval? Insist that his aunt replace her? He was already attracted to her and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why but there was something about Miss Adams that had drawn both his aunt and himself towards her.

      Besides, when had Aunt Lydia ever listened to anyone else?

      Safely ensconced in a shadowy corner of the supper room, her hand resting lightly upon his arm, Lady Castlereagh began to relate to him all that she knew about the scandalous Isabella Adams.

Chapter Four

      At breakfast the next morning, Lady Watson appeared tired. She was usually so chirpy in the mornings despite the lateness of the hour at which she often retired but this morning she seemed to carry a heavy burden to the breakfast table with her.

      Isabella watched silently as the elderly lady picked at her breakfast, moving the ham and eggs around her plate until the sticky yolk had congealed and no longer appeared appetising. The Lady’s face was as pale as the linen tablecloth and the shadows beneath her eyes could have been drawn there with soot from the fireplace.

      The silence was broken as Henrietta bounded into the room with all the grace and elegance of a baby elephant.

      ‘Good morning ladies! And how are you both this fine morning?’

      Isabella looked up at the girl in her cream morning gown, an image of loveliness with her golden ringlets and rosy cheeks, and she fought the urge to reprimand her, for what had she done wrong other than appear happy and full of youthful energy?

      As Henrietta took a seat, piling her plate high with muffins, sausages and eggs, Isabella could not help smiling. The girl was so much healthier in appearance than she had been when she’d first arrived at the house. She was no longer scrawny and hollow eyed with lank straw hair. Instead, she had filled out to a pleasant plumpness and her hair and eyes shone with youthful exuberance.

      ‘You have recovered from your headache, Henrietta?’ she enquired.

      ‘Yes, thank you. I slept all evening and all night and I feel much better. In fact, I am positively ravenous this morning!’

      And radiant, Isabella thought, a warmth spreading from her belly at the joy Henrietta brought.

      With that, Henrietta began tucking into her breakfast, making up for the lack of appetite that afflicted her companions at the table.

      Isabella sipped her strong tea and watched Lady Watson over the edge of her cup. This would not do. The Lady was too old to suffer from shock and Isabella felt that she must do everything in her power to protect her. If that meant standing in the way of Lord Crawford and whatever it was about him that so affected Lady Watson, then that was what she would commit herself to doing. Lady Watson had helped her and it was time to repay the debt.

      ‘Will you come for a drive this morning, Lady Watson?’

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