Nicola Cornick (26 page)

Annabella smiled. ‘Alicia, Caroline and I are all without our husbands this evening,’ she confirmed. ‘They have far weightier matters to contend with! Will has been at the Admiralty these ten days past over this business of Harvard and the treason trial!’

‘Yes, I heard of that.’ Mundell frowned. ‘Extraordinary business, but I am very glad Will has finally been able to settle matters. Do you have any idea how the rumours started up again?’

Annabella had just seen Miss Hurst enter the ballroom on the arm of a very distinguished-looking elderly gentleman. ‘I have a suspicion…’ she murmured.

Mundell followed her gaze and raised his eyebrows. All he said was, ‘I see Miss Hurst has her latest quarry in tow! She has great hopes of bringing him up to scratch! That, Lady Weston, is the Duke of Belston, and if he is not in the first flush of youth and does not have any land or fortune left, he is at least sufficiently important to engage her interest!’

It was much later in the evening that Annabella found herself in the ladies’ withdrawing room at the same time as Ermina Hurst. Miss Hurst’s bright brown eyes appraised her with dislike, taking in the beautifully cut pink dress and the elegant tumble of Annabella’s honey-coloured curls.

‘Lud, Mrs St Auby—or, Lady Weston, as I suppose I must call you now—who would have thought that you could have been transformed from country mouse to society matron so easily!’ she gushed. ‘To become your grandmother’s heiress, and to catch Will Weston into the bargain! But…’ her eyes sparkled with the malicious pleasure Annabella remembered all too well ‘…I hear Will has forsaken you already!’

‘Only to pursue an important matter of business, Miss Hurst,’ Annabella said sweetly. She swung round suddenly. ‘A matter which you, perhaps, have some knowledge of? Gossip always was one of your accomplishments, was it not, albeit one you did not mention when we first met?’

Miss Hurst had started to flush brick red. ‘I have no notion—’ she began.

‘No?’ Annabella was still smiling pleasantly. ‘No notion of a conversation at a ball in Taunton with a certain Captain Jeffries? No notion of some poisonous slander he passed on to you and you in turn saw fit to tell your cousin at the Admiralty? No notion of the misery and trouble your spite has caused? I envy you your ignorance!’

Ermina Hurst pushed past her to leave the room, her face a mask of twisted malice. ‘You upstart little Cit!’ she flashed. ‘I wish I had spoiled sport for you! Will Weston deserves no better, and as for you, you will find that it takes more than a pretty face and a rich grandmother to be accepted in Society!’

She turned back to the door only to find it open and Alicia, Caroline Kilgaren and Lady Stansfield standing in the aperture. Behind them were the outraged faces of half a dozen of society’s most influential hostesses.

‘Appalling behaviour!’ Lady Jersey said to Lady Sefton. ‘One only hopes that Antony Belston will see fit to take her on a
very
long wedding trip!’

After the best part of ten days, Will, Marcus and James finally walked out of the Admiralty in Whitehall into the crisp wintry evening air. London appeared to be awakening for the night; lanterns flared, carriages trundled by and couples in evening dress strolled towards the first fashionable crush of the night. None of the gentlemen paid much attention. Their minds were still full of the events of the past week, the testimonies taken from Captain Dowland
and others, the statement made by Lynch the poacher, the impending court martial and trial of Harvard for treason and attempted murder.

They turned the corner into Horseguards and bumped into two slightly inebriated young men who hailed them with delight.

‘Kilgaren! Mullineaux! Weston! I’ll be damned!’ The slighter of the two gentlemen clapped Will on the shoulder. ‘Had no idea you were in Town! Thought the lovely ladies were all alone…’

The second young man blinked owlishly. ‘Saw them at Lady Stansfield’s ball last night,’ he confirmed enthusiastically. ‘What an entrance! What style! Had no idea Lady Mullineaux had a little sister! Would’ve made it my business to meet her sooner if I had!’ He shook his head regretfully.

‘Patrick O’ Neill seemed damned pleased to see Lady Mullineaux again,’ the first said slyly. ‘Never forgave you for stealing her from under his nose, Mullineaux! Still,’ he shrugged, ‘no doubt we’ll see you later? We’re for Lady Cassilis’s masquerade—should be a crush—word is Lady Kilgaren intends to go as Diana the Huntress!’

And so saying, they wove their way off towards Pall Mall.

James Mullineaux, Marcus Kilgaren and Will Weston stood stock still, staring at each other.

‘What the devil—?’ Marcus began, breaking off as he saw Will’s rueful smile.

‘I believe we have made a tactical error,’ Will said slowly, ‘in leaving our wives languishing alone and unattended—’

‘It doesn’t sound to me as though they have been
unattended for long,’ James finished grimly. He set off purposefully. ‘Damnation! Why can Alicia always do this to me?’

‘Always could, always will!’ Marcus said laconically, half his mind already preoccupied with the thought of Caroline attired as the Goddess Diana. ‘As for Will, seems he must claim his bride before half of London tries to be before him!’

Annabella had just begun a waltz with the Earl of Manleigh when Lady Cassilis’s butler announced the Marquis of Mullineaux, the Earl of Kilgaren and Sir William Weston. She had been having the most marvellous few days…From behind the disguise of domino and mask, she smiled a little and watched the proceedings with no little interest. There was no denying that the three men looked magnificent. They were in evening dress, which immediately singled them out amongst the coloured dominoes and fancy dress of her ladyship’s other guests. Then there was about them a certain air of purpose, almost of sternness, as the set about tracking down their errant wives. Annabella’s heart skipped a beat. Despite the concealing domino Will had been making a straight line for her when, fortuitously, he was delayed by an old acquaintance who had insisted in engaging him in conversation.

Marcus Kilgaren had come upon his wife chatting to a very old flame of hers, Lord Cavendish. Marcus was surprised to feel a real possessive jealousy stir within himself at the sight of Caroline, so exquisitely pretty, draped in a dress so diaphanous it should not have been allowed out of the shop. And Cavendish was certainly enjoying their reunion, leaning towards
her, his eyes bright with admiration and something else which set Marcus’s teeth on edge. He gave the unfortunate peer a nod that was barely civil and addressed his wife.

‘I believe this is my dance, madam.’

Caroline’s eyes widened in the flirtatious way he remembered from their courtship. He could not believe she was about to do this to him. ‘I think you mistake, sir,’ she said sweetly. ‘I am not engaged for this dance—’

‘You are now,’ Marcus said grimly, grasping her wrist and almost pulling her to her feet. ‘And, dear Caro,’ he added in an undertone for her ears only, ‘my preference at this moment would be to make love to you rather than dance with you! I am only conforming to propriety for the sake of Lady Cassilis’s guests!’

For James Mullineaux, approaching Alicia was very reminiscent of the days before their marriage when his beloved had been besieged by a sea of admirers and it had been difficult even to get near to her. He cut a path ruthlessly through the crowd, not even pausing to respond to the greetings of his friends, and found Alicia at the centre, sensational in an emerald-green domino and black velvet mask, Captain O’Neill lounging by her side. The dazzling Lady Mullineaux, very sure of her power…
His
Lady Mullineaux…

He took her hand and, with the wicked smile that had always made Alicia’s heart turn over, pressed a kiss on the palm. He did not even speak, simply drawing her out of the group and guiding her expertly towards a secluded alcove. Several ladies in their vicin
ity exchanged rueful looks. No point in wondering whether the Marquis of Mullineaux would be interested in a flirtation. The Marquis and his wife were giving off so much white-hot intense heat that to get close would be to risk burning! So much for the dictum which said that a husband and wife paying each other attention in public was unfashionable!

Annabella was scarcely aware of the moment that Will cut out Frederick Manleigh, so dextrous was his manoeuvre. One moment, the besotted Earl had been smiling down into her eyes, the next he appeared to have vanished completely. Will’s arm slid about her waist, his thigh brushed against hers, hard muscle against sliding silk, and she almost lost her step through sheer sensual awareness.

‘Well, madam?’ Will was unsmiling, but Annabella was up to the challenge.

‘I am very well, I thank you, sir.’ She gave him a melting smile. ‘I have been having such a delightful time!’

She saw Will’s blue eyes narrow. ‘So I see. I have heard that Lady Mullineaux’s little sister is the toast of the Town!’

Annabella smiled again, lowering her eyes so that their expression should not betray her.

‘No doubt,’ Will pursued, ‘it slipped your mind to inform these gallant gentlemen that you are, in fact, my wife of only ten days!’

Annabella almost laughed. She was nearly certain that his stern tone was assumed, just as her flirtatiousness was. How could it be otherwise, when his body against hers was giving a very different message?

‘Alas,’ she said with every appearance of regret, ‘it
has often slipped my mind, given my neglect by my husband!’

She saw the expression flare in Will’s eyes, the mixture of desire and challenge that set her blood racing, heady as a draught of wine.

‘Do I understand you properly?’ he asked musingly. ‘You fear that your attention may wander, given the delightful distractions of town and the lack of attention paid to you by your lawful husband?’

Annabella lowered her gaze again, managing a modest smile. ‘It is all so new and exciting,’ she said, by way of excuse. ‘I am sure I could be forgiven for thinking I might be missing something, were I to settle into dull married life…’

She gasped aloud as Will turned them so that Annabella’s back was suddenly against one of the ballroom pillars.

‘I am minded to demonstrate to these poor, lovesick fools that they are wasting their time,’ he said, his mouth an inch away from hers. ‘Which would be the greater scandal, do you think, my love, to kiss you here and now, or to carry you out of the ballroom to make love to you?’

‘Why don’t you find out?’ Annabella asked provocatively, as she raised her mouth to meet his.