From London With Love: Disgrace and Desire / The Captain and the Wallflower

With soft smiles and caressing words she retrieved her fan, disengaged herself from her entourage and moved away. Lord Berrow was smiling and nodding to her from across the room but she pretended she had not seen him: he might still be persuaded to sell her Ainsley Wood but she had laughed and flirted enough for one night. She would find Alex and ask him to take her home.

‘You are frowning, madam. It does not become you.’

Major Clifton’s voice at her shoulder brought her to a halt. She looked round to find him beside her. Glancing up, she saw no sympathy in his face, only a cool, considering look in his hard eyes.

‘I have the headache,’ she said shortly.

‘A little air will revive you.’ He held out his arm. ‘Let me escort you outside.’

She hesitated but the sight of Sir Ronald Deforge standing a short distance away decided her: if she turned from Major Clifton she knew Sir Ronald would be at her side, offering to escort her, enveloping her with his suffocating attentions. She laid her fingers on Jack’s sleeve and allowed him to lead her to the nearest of the tall windows. His arm was reassuringly solid beneath the soft wool of his evening coat and it was tempting to lean upon him. It was very odd that she should feel so safe with Jack Clifton beside her, despite his obvious disapproval.

As they stepped outside the night air was cool on her face and the exposed skin of her arms. After the cloying heat of the salon it was refreshing. There were several couples already on the wide balcony, and Eloise made no protest as her partner led her away from them.

‘I have not seen you since Vauxhall, Major,’ she began. ‘I wanted to thank you.’

‘For what?’ His voice was harsh. ‘The kiss we shared in the carriage, or for not knocking Mortimer’s teeth down his throat?’

‘Neither! For escorting me to the Gardens. For your protection.’

‘Little enough protection, since the rogue was able to approach you.’

‘Nevertheless, I was very grateful that you were there.’ Eloise released his arm and busied herself with arranging her fine lace shawl over her shoulders. ‘After…after you had gone, the other night, I decided to tell Alex about the letters. He is involved, you see.’

‘I had guessed as much. Well, he will be able to deal with this.’

She paused. She had promised Alex she would seek the major’s assistance in recovering the journal. This was her opportunity. She drew a breath.

‘Actually, I—we would appreciate your continued help, Major. This is a very delicate matter, and there is no one else we can confide in.’

He turned away from her, staring out across the vast expanse of Green Park that stretched away beyond the moonlit gardens. Eloise looked at him. There was something very reassuring about his strong, uncompromising profile, his upright bearing. He looked honourable, incorruptible. Suddenly it was very important to her to have his support. She reached out and touched his arm.

‘Please, Major Clifton.’

‘Give me one reason why I should help you.’

‘You called Tony your friend. I thought you wanted to protect his good name.’

‘I did, I do, but why should I concern myself with keeping the name of Allyngham free from scandal when you are so determined to sully it?’

Her hand dropped.

‘Because I flirt a little—’

He swung round to face her, his countenance as hard as stone in the moonlight.

‘A little? You are the talk of the town, madam. The betting books are filled with wagers about you!’

She stiffened.

‘I allow no man to go beyond friendly dalliance.’

He gave a bark of mirthless laughter.

‘Oh? I was watching you tonight, surrounded by your admirers! Why, you even allowed that fop to take his snuff from your hand!’

‘But that is all. It goes no further than that!’

‘Does it not?’ I have kissed you twice, madam. Was that mere dalliance? And what of Mortimer? You consider it friendly dalliance to allow him into your house at all hours of the night?’

‘No one but you knows he called upon me.’

‘Oh, so as long as he visits you in secret it does not matter?’

She bit her lip.

‘Alex is an old family friend, nothing more. I told you that.’

‘Aye, you did, and I wanted to believe you, but the more I see and hear of you—’ He shook his head and said bitterly ‘—I fear our standards are not the same. Standards—hah! I have known alley cats with better morals than you.’

‘How dare you!’ Eloise brought her hand up swiftly but he was even quicker. He caught her wrist, his fingers biting into her flesh.

Jack stared at the angry face turned up towards him. The moonlight glinted on her eyes, sending daggers of light towards him. She was radiating fury, her lips parted as if she was about to hiss and spit at him. And with good reason; he had been very uncivil—but what had he said that was not true? It angered him that he threw such accusations at her and she did nothing to deny them. He admitted to himself that he was jealous, too. Jealous that she should bestow her smiles and honeyed words on other men.

They were standing very close and as her breast rose indignantly the flowers of her corsage brushed his waistcoat and filled his senses with a heady perfume. It was distracting, intoxicating. His fingers tightened on her slender wrist, pulling her even closer. Suddenly he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her, transforming her rage into the passion he sensed was just beneath the surface. He saw the anger leave her face. Her eyes widened, as though she was reading his thoughts. He could take her now, he knew it. They were standing breast to breast; he would only have to move a little to bring his mouth down to hers. It was like holding a taper close to a tinderbox, knowing that the slightest touch would ignite a blaze.

She swallowed hard and his eyes were drawn to the convulsive movement in the slender column of her throat. He would like to kiss her there, he thought distractedly. He would like to trail his mouth over her skin to the base of her throat where a pulse was beating so rapidly, and carry on until his lips reached the soft swell of her breasts. Then…

She gave a little sob.

‘Let me go, you monster!’

His head jerked up and he came to his senses. She was struggling to free herself from his vice-like grip. Jack released her and she stepped away from him, her left hand cradling her wrist. He hardened himself against her look of anger and reproach to say coldly, ‘I am not one of your fawning admirers, Lady Allyngham. You will not strike me for telling the truth.’

Eloise glared up at him, rubbing her sore wrist. She was still furious, but beneath her anger was a lurking fear for the disturbing emotions he aroused in her. The blaze she had seen in his eyes when they had been standing so close had very nearly overset her: she had wanted to throw herself at him, kicking, biting and scratching until he responded. For one dizzying moment she had imagined him pinning her against the wall, subduing her anger with a savage kiss before carrying her off to ravage her in ways that she had heard other women talk of, but had never experienced for herself. Even now, standing before this big, disturbing brute of a man, she did not know whether she was most glad or sorry that he had let her go. She struggled to regain some form of dignity and managed to say in glacial accents, ‘We have nothing more to say to each other, Major Clifton. We will consider our acquaintance at an end.’

He clipped his heels together and made her a stiff little bow.

‘As you wish, madam.’

She drew herself up, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over.

‘I wish,’ she said in a low, trembling voice, ‘that it was you and not Tony who had perished at Waterloo!’

Turning on her heel, she marched back into the ballroom and did not stop until she had found Alex.

He was playing cards, but as soon as he saw her he excused himself and came to meet her.

‘Well, well,’ he said, taking her arm, ‘now what has occurred to ruffle your feathers?’

‘Nothing. I merely want you to take me home.’

He grinned.

‘Then I shall do so, of course, but you cannot storm into the card room with the colours flying in your cheeks and tell me nothing is wrong.’

She almost ground her teeth.

‘Major Clifton has insulted me.’

Alex raised his brows.

‘Oh? Do you want me to call him out?’

‘Yes,’ she said savagely. ‘I want you to challenge him to a duel and then run him through. I want him to die very painfully!’

‘Well, I would, of course, my dear, but Clifton is a soldier, so he is bound to be a much better swordsman than I. Then, of course, he might choose pistols, and you know what a terrible shot I am…’

Even through her rage she could not but laugh at his nonsense. Alex patted her arm.

‘That’s better. Come along then, I will take you home.’

They said nothing more until they were bowling along in the elegant Allyngham town chaise. As they rattled over the cobbles, Alex demanded to know just what had occurred.

‘I was going to tell Major Clifton that I had received my invitation to Renwick Hall. I thought he might help us.’ She rubbed her sore wrist.

‘And what happened?’

‘He told me I had the morals of an alley cat.’ She hunted for her handkerchief. ‘And I c-could not deny it, especially after he found you in my house when we got back from Vauxhall.’

‘He hasn’t spread that about, has he?’

‘No, of course not.’ She blew her nose defiantly. ‘But he thinks me quite sunk in depravity.’

‘As well he might,’ remarked Alex with what she thought was heartless candour. ‘I think he might be jealous.’

‘No, he is not.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘He is merely the most odious man that ever lived. I hate him!’

‘If that is the case, then why are you so upset?’

‘Because I am quite sick of this charade! I hate everyone thinking ill of me.’

‘You mean you hate Jack Clifton thinking ill of you.’

She stamped her foot on the carriage floor.

‘That is not it at all,’ she said crossly.

‘If it’s your reputation you are concerned for, I could always marry you.’

‘Alex!’

‘Well, it is one solution.’

‘But you do not want to marry.’

‘No, and I do not think it would make you happy, Elle. But if it puts paid to a scandal…’

She shook her head.

‘It will not do that, we both know it.’ She sighed. Putting away her handkerchief, she reached across the carriage to pat his hand. ‘It is very good of you, Alex, but we neither of us want to marry. I am sorry; I should not have let the hateful Major Clifton upset me so. I think I must be very tired tonight.’

‘I think so, too. It is not like you to be so disheartened. If you are truly worried about that journal, Elle, why not come abroad with me and forget about England? It matters little to me now where I live.’

‘No, I am resolved not to run away because some, some insignificant little worm dares to threaten us!’ She drew herself up, saying in a much stronger voice, ‘But I am determined we will not ask for Major Clifton’s help again. You and I will go to Renwick Hall, we will find a way to recover this wretched book and then I can go back to Allyngham, build my foundling hospital in Tony’s memory and, and become a recluse!’

Eloise found herself looking forward to the Renwicks’ house party. At least it would mean that she need no longer parade herself in the fashionable salons of the town. During her period of mourning she had missed the society, but the role she had set herself was proving to be very wearing. When Tony had introduced her to the ton she had enjoyed the parties and the company, but then the admiration of the gentlemen for Lord Allyngham’s wife had always been tempered by her husband’s protective presence. Even when Tony was fighting in the Peninsula and she had come to town with only Alex as her escort, somehow Lord Allyngham’s shadow hovered over her and no man dared to go too far. However, all that was now changed. As a widow—and a rich one at that—she seemed to attract the predatory males of the town. They circled about her like a pack of wolves and it was only the fact that they considered her to be under Alex’s protection that kept them from pouncing. She was aware of her precarious position: her wealth and status gave her entrée to all the grand houses of the ton, but if she allowed the flirtations to get out of hand, if she caused too much of a scandal, then society’s hostesses would close their doors to her. She would be consigned to the ranks of the demi-monde and the proud name of Allyngham would no longer be revered. Her husband would no longer be remembered as a valiant soldier—she might even be obliged to remove the memorial stone from the wall of Allyngham church. That was why it was so important to recover the journal: if its contents ever became known, she and Alex would not only be ostracised by the ton, they would be obliged to fly the country.

These sobering thoughts occupied her mind as she journeyed to Renwick Hall. Eloise became even more acutely aware of how society viewed her when she joined her hostess in the drawing room before dinner that evening.

‘My dear, how prompt you are,’ declared Mrs Renwick, coming forwards to meet her. ‘Everyone else is still at their toilette.’

‘Oh dear, if I am too early…’

‘By no means. I am glad of the company. Come and sit here beside the fire and tell me how you like your room.’

‘It is very comfortable, ma’am, and has a lovely view of the lake,’ said Eloise, disposing her skirts about her on the satin-covered sofa.

‘I knew you would like the blue bedchamber,’ smiled Mrs Renwick. ‘I regret that we could not find an adjoining room for Mr Mortimer. He sent me word that he will be joining us in the morning. We have had to put him in the bachelor wing, on the far side of the house. With such a house full of guests, I am sure you will appreciate that we have to allocate all the bedchambers in the main building to our married guests.’

Looking into her hostess’s kind face, Eloise’s heart sank at this tacit acceptance that Alex was her lover. She took a deep breath.

‘That is as it should be, ma’am. As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask your advice. I have been thinking for some time that I should have a companion when I am in London. I thought I might ask Allyngham’s cousin, Margaret Cromer. We have lost touch a little in recent years but I hope she will consider my request. I have always been a little in awe of her, but I know she is a good friend of yours, ma’am, and wanted to ask you what you thought of the idea before I write to her: do I presume too much, do you think she would accept?’

‘Meg Cromer? Oh. I had thought you preferred not to have a chaperon! That is, I mean…’

‘A widow has a great deal more freedom than a single woman,’ said Eloise, taking pity on her hostess’s confusion. ‘I am aware that there is already a great deal of talk about me, although I hope you will believe me when I say that it is all unfounded. And Mr Mortimer…Mr Mortimer is a good friend, but I have imposed upon him long enough. I think I should go on more comfortably now if I had some female company.’

‘You do not think…’ Her hostess looked down at her hands. ‘Have you considered that marriage would give you a great deal more protection, Lady Allyngham? I am sure there can be no shortage of eligible suitors…’

Eloise shook her head.

‘You are very kind to say so, but I have no wish to marry again.’

‘No, of course,’ replied Mrs Renwick quickly. ‘It is very early days, and I believe Lord Allyngham to have been the very best of men. It would be difficult to find his equal.’

‘I would not even attempt it,’ replied Eloise. ‘I am resigned to a single life, but that does not mean I need be bored or lonely. I have a large estate at Allyngham. That brings its own responsibilities, and I intend to travel, now the Continent is safe again, but for the present I need to make a life for myself, and that necessitates spending some little time in London and I find I am growing tired of being labelled the Wanton Widow.’

Mrs Renwick nodded.

‘You are very right, Lady Allyngham, you would be subjected to much less comment if you had Meg as your companion. And you have no need to write to her because she is staying here with me at the moment. So, you may ask her as soon as you wish. She is a stickler for convention, of course: her reputation and character are of such high standing that I feel sure her presence would be an advantage to you.’

‘That is why I thought I might invite Cousin Margaret to come with me when I leave here and return to London.’

‘Very wise, my dear. Talk to her while you are here. As a widow of several years’ standing she is a very independent person, but I am sure she would be happy to stay with you for a few months. But I hope that does not mean you intend to cut short your visit here. I am looking forward to such a happy time, for we have invited only close acquaintances on this occasion—and here is one of Mr Renwick’s oldest friends, now. Major Clifton, you are in good time, sir!’

Chapter Eight

Eloise’s head snapped around. She watched Jack Clifton walk into the room, tall and elegant in his black swallow-tailed coat and buff pantaloons. He looked relaxed and at his ease, and she schooled her own features into a look of bland indifference as she rose to her feet. More people were coming into the room and Mrs Renwick hurried away to greet them, leaving Eloise with the major.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded as he bowed to her.

He raised his brows.

‘Renwick invited me. Do you think I should remove myself because you do not want me here? I am a guest, madam, as you are. You will have to make the best of it.’ He bared his teeth. ‘Smile, madam, we are in company; you do not want anyone to suspect an intrigue, do you? Or perhaps, considering your reputation, it is of no matter to you.’

‘Your being here is no matter to me, Major,’ Eloise flashed back at him. She gave him a smile as false as his own and swept away to meet the other guests.

With the exception of Alex Mortimer, the party was complete, and when Eloise sat down to dinner it was with the almost certain knowledge that her tormentor from Vauxhall Gardens was amongst the guests. She glanced around the table as the servants came in with the first course. She discounted Mr and Mrs Renwick from her list of suspects and, reluctantly, Major Clifton. Lord and Lady Parham were inveterate gossipmongers, but she did not think either of them capable of such subterfuge. Sitting near her were two other couples, both related to Mrs Renwick, plus Sir Ronald Deforge. Then there was a gentleman called Graham with an unfortunate taste in florid waistcoats and her late-husband’s cousin, Mrs Margaret Cromer, an iron-haired lady whose forbidding countenance was relieved by a decided twinkle in her grey eyes. At the far end of the table was Mr Renwick’s sister, her clergyman husband and two pretty daughters. Eloise knew them slightly, but since Mr Briggate and his family had travelled from Dorset to join the party at Renwick Hall she hoped she might discount them.

With a sigh she turned her attention to her dinner. In truth, she had no idea whom she should suspect. She must not relax, even for a moment. She pushed a piece of chicken across her plate, sadly aware that her appetite had disappeared.

After dinner the ladies withdrew to the long gallery, where fires blazed in the two fireplaces. They disposed themselves gracefully on the elegant sofas while they talked and gossiped, and during a lull in the conversation Eloise wandered off to look at the numerous pictures that covered the walls.

‘We have some very fine paintings here, Lady Allyngham,’ said Mr Renwick, leading the gentlemen into the room at that moment. ‘However, they don’t show to advantage in the candlelight: you are best looking at them during the day.’

‘I should like to do so,’ she replied.

‘And I should be delighted to escort you,’ replied her host, smiling. ‘Or let Clifton be your guide; he knows as much as I about the pictures here at the Hall.’

‘You flatter me, Charles,’ said Jack. ‘I do not claim to be an expert.’

‘But you have an eye for a beautiful work of art,’ returned Mr Renwick.

‘And for a pretty woman,’ added Mr Graham, walking by.

‘And that,’ Jack replied gravely.

He was about to turn away. Eloise said quickly, ‘You consider yourself a connoisseur, perhaps?’

‘Of art, madam, or women?’

‘Oh, Clifton is decidedly a connoisseur of women!’ laughed Mr Renwick, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

‘I take leave to question that,’ muttered Eloise, so quietly that only Jack could hear her. She found his dark, unsmiling gaze resting on her.

‘I have enough experience to know when beauty is merely a sham, a bright veneer to cover a tarnished character.’

Colour flamed through Eloise’s cheek. She turned away, furious with herself for challenging him. It was a game she could not win. She fixed her eyes on a large portrait, pretending to study it while she struggled to regain her composure.

‘What—’ Jack was standing at her shoulder, his words quiet in her ear, ‘—has the Glorious Allyngham no laughing riposte for me?’

She drew herself up and turned to him, masking her anger with a glittering smile.

‘I am amazed, sir, that you claim any expertise at all when it comes to our sex. In my experience you show no aptitude at all and see only what you want to see!’

With no more than a small inclination of her head Eloise moved away, back to the relative safety of the crowd.

It was still early so it came as no surprise when one of the younger members of the group suggested dancing. The party moved to one end of the room where the fine pianoforte was situated and footmen were called to roll away the carpet. With her nerves at full stretch, Eloise could not share in the general high spirits so she stepped up to her hostess and offered to play for the dancers. Mr Graham, overhearing her, immediately cried out at this, saying with a laugh, ‘Would you deprive us of the pleasure of watching you dance, Lady Allyngham?’

‘Would you deprive us of the pleasure of partnering you?’ added Sir Ronald Deforge.

She shook her head.

‘Thank you, but I am very happy to play tonight.’

Mr Graham was inclined to argue.

‘But, my lady—’

‘Someone else may take a turn at the pianoforte later,’ declared Mrs Renwick, the peacemaker. ‘I know Lady Allyngham to be an excellent pianist and it would be an honour to have her play for our little party.’

Major Clifton carried a branched candlestick across to the pianoforte.

‘Out of sorts, Lady Allyngham?’

She gave him a frosty look and turned her attention to leafing through the music piled on a nearby table.

‘I am not always so flighty as you think me, Major.’

‘Perhaps you are missing Alex Mortimer.’

‘Oh, do go away!’

She ground her teeth as he sauntered off, laughing.

Seating herself at the instrument, Eloise began to play. Her fingers flew over the keys, her lively playing accompanied by the happy laughter of the dancers.

After an hour even the most energetic of the young people was glad to take a break and while they refreshed themselves with cups of wine, lemonade or ratafia, Mrs Renwick and her husband were persuaded to sing a duet. This was so successful that their audience clapped and cheered and demanded more. Mrs Renwick beckoned to Mrs Cromer.

‘Meg, my dear, come and join us to sing the trio from Così fan tutte. Do you remember, we saw it together at the Haymarket in the year Eleven and immediately purchased the music so we could learn it.?

Margaret Cromer stepped up.