AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Jasper!’ She almost dropped the empty cup in shock and attempted to cover the ferocious blush creeping up her neck with mortified irritation. ‘I thought I had made it plain that I didn’t need saving!’
‘Yes, I heard you say that, and before you launch into another diatribe about loathing pity and people feeling beholden, I shall save you the effort.’ He had circumvented the back of the chairs and was now shuffling along the front of them balancing another cup of punch on a plate piled high with food from the buffet. ‘For neither indebtedness, pity nor guilt have brought me here.’ He dropped into the chair beside her, stretched out his long legs beneath the seat in front and crossed them at the ankles. Only then did he remove the cup from the plate and offer the selection to her.
‘I wasn’t sure what you liked, and as I like it all, I loaded two of everything for us to share but confess I polished off all the little fried cheese things in transit because they were just too moreish.’ When she only blinked at him in answer he grinned and balanced the plate on his lap to select something else for himself.
‘If you are not here out of a misplaced sense of guilt, then why are you?’
‘Two reasons.’ Something dainty and wrapped in pastry disappeared into his mouth and the wretch made her wait while he chewed it. ‘Firstly, I came to deliver something.’ He patted his coat and retrieved a folded square of paper from a hidden pocket inside, waving it at her. ‘I promised Izzy solemnly that I would give you this.
‘And secondly...’ He sighed as his eyes dipped, awkward again and a bit lost. ‘Because it turns out that four-year-olds are fast asleep by seven, and as I am avoiding my club for obvious reasons, I am left alone to stew in my own juices and, after the notorious brandy incident, I have come to the conclusion that that isn’t wise.’ He popped a bacon-wrapped date into his mouth and glanced around him.
‘I’ve never sat in the wallflower chairs before. All the exiled gentlemen hover around the edges and try to disappear into the woodwork, but these chairs rather make a statement, don’t they?’
He glanced around him with disdain at their confined space in the furthest corner of the ballroom, and at the overly cheerful few young ladies peppered throughout the seats. They were huddling in groups of two or three so that they could pretend to be engrossed in a riveting conversation, having a high old time, rather than gazing wistfully at their peers dancing. ‘I now feel dreadful for every single bottom sat on one and ashamed that I’ve never taken the time to know any of them.’
Why would he? He was handsome, rich and undisputedly still quite a catch despite his scandalous reputation.
‘The young lady in the unfortunate thick spectacles is Miss Winston, the scholarly daughter of an admiral who is so intelligent she scares every gentleman without trying.’ Hattie whispered this in his ear while trying not to inhale the seductive woody scent of his cologne. ‘Seated beside her is Lady Octavia Trenton.’ It felt unkind to mention poor Octavia’s protruding teeth or her unremarkable other features. ‘This is her fourth Season, so by society’s terms, she’s already consigned to the dusty shelf of eternal spinsterhood.
‘Over there—’ she subtly gestured to the three bored ladies tapping their hands and feet to the music ‘—are the two Misses Bristow, sisters who are well connected but sadly have no dowries or attractive enough qualities for such a situation to be ignored. And next to them is the painfully shy and terminally poor Lady Susannah Hargreaves. She is also perennially on a diet, which doesn’t seem to work, so stares as wistfully at the refreshments as she does the dance floor. We are all on nodding and smiling at one another terms, seeing as we are all in the same club—and by club I mean the 1813 Wallflowers’ Club—which, unlike your den of iniquity, is not an institution anyone would voluntarily want to become a member of.’
Hattie tried to make light of it but could see by his furrowed brow he sympathised with all of the members.
‘Lady Bulphan might as well have hung a banner above these chairs announcing this as the place for every lady who is either too old, too plain, too impoverished, too skinny, too plump or—’ he nudged her playfully with his elbow ‘—too wonky to warrant a dance partner.’ Then he smiled. It wasn’t a polite smile, or an apologetic one. Or a grin, or a fake smile or a flirty one either, for that matter, as she had seen all of those on his expression over the years and none had ever had the effect of this one. It was instead half-heartfelt and half-mischievous, as if they were both firm friends and partners in crime and it warmed her soul.
‘Wonky.’ She feigned outrage but he refused to bite. ‘Is that any way to talk to the daughter of a duke?’
‘I am simply being honest. Would you prefer I offered trite, empty and dishonest platitudes instead, Hattie?’
‘I can see that you are one of those irritating people who quotes me back at myself.’
‘If the shoe fits.’ His green eyes were dancing. ‘Only you cannot claim to loath other people’s well-intentioned pity if you also expect those that respect you to sugar their words. Be wonky and proud. Make no apologies for who you are or what you do. Trust me, that philosophy has served me well for years.’
‘Oh, you respect me all of a sudden, do you?’ She made a joke of the compliment rather than ask why, folding her arms and tapping one finger on an elbow as if she were waiting for a similar response.
‘As a matter of fact I do.’ He mirrored her stance by folding his arms too. ‘If one ignores your annoying tendency to take offence where none is meant, your stubborn pride and your flagrant flouting of the rules of propriety, you have a number of traits which are admirable.’ Remembering the paper protruding from his hand, he thrust it at her, a tad awkward again as if he had admitted more than he was comfortable with. ‘But I didn’t come here to shower you in flattery, I came here to deliver this.’
Hattie opened the folded square and stared at the childish picture Isabel had drawn for her in chalk. Three exceptionally wonky figures stood in a line holding hands. As the shorter one in the middle appeared to have a doll attached to her chest, she assumed that was Izzy. The tall figure with black sticks for arms, a lopsided crimson grin and a misshapen top hat had to be Jasper. Which meant the other, with its one big blue eye and one small beneath scruffy swirls of yellow hair had to be her.
‘Apparently it is us. Izzy was insistent you have it to remember her by.’ He rolled his eyes. A flippant gesture which did nothing to hide the pride in them at his daughter’s artistic prowess. ‘She’s talked about you constantly since she met you, which is no mean feat as she’s naturally shy. But clearly you have a knack with children.’
‘Tell her I shall treasure it.’
‘I promised her that I would also invite you to tea at our house next week. Just the three of us and another huge cake, even though I know that such an invitation is grossly improper, and your previous visit was a one-off borne out of your concern for me, so please take it with a pinch of salt. But that tiny minx has always had me wrapped around her little finger, and I know she will spot the lie if I politely decline on your behalf without doing expressly as she has asked first.’
Of course she should politely decline.
Of course she should!
Escorting him home while he had been drunk had been foolhardy, the second visit had been utter madness but necessary for her peace of mind. A third was openly courting scandal and social suicide no matter how tempted she was to say yes.
‘Tell Izzy I would be delighted to accept.’ Not at all what she had planned to say, but she was powerless to stop her wayward jaw again. ‘I should also like to take you shopping at your earliest convenience so that I can help you with that dreaded list.’
It was his turn to blink at her in surprise, so her possessed mouth ploughed on, while her usually sensible head was already plotting when and how she could manage the promised trip. ‘I am expected back at the infirmary on Monday afternoon at three, but my family are so used to my comings and goings there that they will not question me adding a couple more hours to the visit. What about noon? If you have your carriage wait for me on Long Acre, we can sneak to Cheapside as no good member of the ton would be seen dead shopping there among the rabble. You can purchase all the regular items and I can deal with all the unmentionables.’
‘Is that wise?’
‘What happened to making no apologies for what I do?’
He went to speak then narrowed his eyes. ‘I can see that you are one of those irritating people who quotes me back at myself too.’
As she laughed, a shadow covered Izzy’s picture on her lap. It was the slightly paunchy, exceedingly supercilious shadow of Lord Boredom who had crept up with such stealth she hadn’t seen him coming. He moistened his lips, a bit like a toad, while he rocked on his heels, openly staring down her cleavage as he did so. ‘Did you receive my bouquet this morning, Lady Harriet?’
‘She received at least fifteen—which was yours, Cyril?’ She was certain Jasper had failed to notice their interloper until she did, but he managed to muster the perfect set down as a response before a startled Hattie had even thought of one. ‘Don’t tell me...’ He clicked his fingers as if this were suddenly a game. ‘You sent that enormous, ostentatious bunch of scarlet roses, you old dog.’ Jasper winked as Lord Boreham stiffened. ‘Or were yours the exotic hothouse lilies which must have cost an arm and a leg?’ If Hattie had a knack with children, then he had a knack of insulting someone in such a charming way that they couldn’t dare be offended.
‘I always suspected still waters ran deep. Right from our Oxford days I knew you were a dark horse where the ladies were concerned. I confess, I never expected we would be rivals for the same one though, Cyril.’
‘Well, I...’ The other man puffed out his chest like a peacock for a moment then frowned because his ‘rival’ was now feeding Hattie a titbit from his plate in a manner which suggested the pair of them were long past the polite, tentative stage of courtship and well into the over-familiar. ‘I must say, Beaufort, I am surprised to see you here.’ Lord Boredom stuck out his flat, non-existent chin. ‘This sort of entertainment isn’t usually to your particular tastes.’
His insulting insinuation was clear, but it was water off a duck’s back to Jasper. ‘We all have to grow up and settle down some time, Cyril.’ He stood and hauled Hattie up with him by the hand. ‘Now, if you will excuse us, I promised to show Lady Harriet the terrace.’
