‘Why did you push him in the fountain, Hope? What wicked and presumptuous thing did the dissolute new Marquess do?’
‘I swear I never met him before yesterday.’
‘Did he flirt with you at the Writtles’? Or was it worse? Did he make a saucy comment about your figure like that hapless officer at Gunter’s the other week?’ Charity was laughing, obviously enjoying herself while Hope squirmed. ‘Or maybe he tried to steal a kiss.’ Hope’s spine involuntarily stiffened before she could summon the bravado to deny it, and although she covered it quickly, her canny sister saw it because her jaw slackened in shock. ‘Was he successful?’
As she floundered for the correct words to express her outrage at the accusation, her younger and most annoying sibling threw her head back and roared. ‘Oh, good Lord! You’re as red as your hair because hedidkiss you, didn’t he? Didn’t he?’ She prodded her hard in the arm with her finger. ‘You—you!—kissed our sinfully handsome, possibly dissolute pirate neighbour at Faith’s engagement ball! That’s why you leapt to his defence so vociferously earlier too.Youkissed him andyouliked it!’
‘I did nothing of the sort!’ But her crimson face was confirmation enough so there was no point in denying it. Nothing ever escaped either of her sisters for long, and she was long past the point of protesting too much. ‘If you must know he kissed me, quite unexpectedly and out of the blue, and got to swim in the fountain for his impertinence!’
This confession earned her a jab in the ribs this time from her sister’s pointed finger. ‘I knew it! I knew there was an odd air between the pair of you. It certainly explains why you are so mute around him. Both yesterday on the street and today in the drawing room, you were uncharacteristically quiet and much too polite. So much so I barely recognised you as my acerbic, acidic and cynical sister!’
‘Will you keep your voice down!’
‘I cannot believe you kissed Lord Thundersley over a week ago and kept it all to yourself.’ Charity bounced on the spot, clearly beside herself with joy at having such a delicious faux pas to hold against her. ‘It must have been a truly magnificent kiss for him to have moved to Bloomsbury on the back of it.’
That dangerous avenue of speculation needed nipping in the bud. ‘It was an instantly forgettable kiss.’ One that made her lips tingle just thinking about it. ‘Which only came about because he was saving me from Lord Harlington’s advances...’
‘The plot thickens...’
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ Sometimes, only the truth would do, even if it was applied sparingly. ‘I went to hide in the garden because Horrid Harlington refused to leave me alone and wanted a waltz. While I was there, Lord Thundersley stumbled across me by the fountain and when we heard Harlington heading towards us, I hastily asked him if he would help me get rid of him. I was hoping he would do so by intimidating him with his height, but in his drunken state, he chose to pretend we were having a tryst instead. It was all over in seconds. Lord Harlington stormed off in a huff at being spurned and your pirate ended up in the fountain exactly as he deserved!’ She would omit the naked balcony scene, and indeed balconies altogether alongside the cosy chats they had while on them. ‘That would have been an end to it until coincidence moved him in next door and we collided on the pavement yesterday. Where I insisted he pretend we had no prior acquaintance as I had lied about having anything to do with the fountain and nobly he agreed.’
‘Oh, he is noble now as well as charming, is he?’
‘After the blistering lecture Mama and Papa gave me about my temper when that idiot soldier propositioned me at Gunter’s and I covered him in ice cream, it seemed prudent to deny my hand in that within scant days of the other incident.’ Hope squared her shoulders, crossed her fingers behind her back and looked her sister dead in the eye. ‘That is the whole truth, and the sum total of all my dealings with Lord Thundersley to date, I swear it. Please keep it to yourself. He has since apologised for his drunken misunderstanding, but even so—can you imagine our parents’ overreaction if they knew the truth? It would be blown out of all proportion by Mama as all things invariably always are, especially when the guilty party is sat in our very own drawing room.’
Charity stared at her for several moments while she forced herself to stare back unflinching. ‘And there is nothing else? Only you did seem uncharacteristically quiet and occupied, and you did keep glancing at him when you thought nobody was looking.’
‘Hardly a surprise when he was but feet away and a single wrong word from him could bring my flimsy lie crashing around my ears.’
‘But you are never so gushing about a man. You usually loathe them before they even open their mouths.’
Usually because they had already leered at her chest before they opened them.
‘Hargreaves is a good chap. Honest too...’ Her father’s voice suddenly drifted down the hallway from the direction of the studio, signalling they were done. ‘And if you are prepared to pay a small premium to expediate things, he’ll make your place presentable in no time.’
‘I am in your debt, Augustus.’ Luke’s deep voice made her stupid lips tingle again. ‘For both the sound advice and for taking pity on me and inviting me to dinner tonight. Are you sure your lovely wife will not mind the intrusion...?’
Not dinner! Please God, not dinner too!
‘Dinner was Roberta’s idea and she will not take no for an answer...’
She was doomed.‘Please, Charity! I am begging you, keep my secret.’
Her sister grinned. ‘Of course I’ll keep your secret because that is what good sisters do.’
She then spun on her heel and sauntered back towards the voices now in the drawing room, then paused to toss one final salvo over her shoulder before she turned the corner. ‘But do not for one second think that I am the slightest bit convinced by your obviously abridged and edited version of events, Hope. Because I have eyes and I can see, and what I can plainly see is, frankly...fascinating.’
Chapter Eight
Once again, the new Marquess of T. was seen out with the B. family of Bloomsbury. However, the jury is still out as to which of Mr B.’s beautiful daughters he prefers as both were spotted on his arm at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition yesterday. Miss C. has all the charm and congeniality, but as we well know, Gentle Reader, Miss H. has all the fire...
Whispers Behind the Fan
June 1814
‘Your father left you nothing?’ Hope reached across the balcony railings to accept the second cup of tea he had poured her from the pot he had brought up expressly for their nightly chat.
After a week of casual unplanned but habitual clandestine conversations which seemed to last longer the more they got to know one another, he decided he might as well turn up prepared. The tea was still almost drinkable but the mound of hot buttered toast which he had also brought to share was long gone.
