Chapter 6
Allegra knew it was reckless, to let Mr Englishby lead her out of the ballroom to take the air, as he so disingenuously claimed, and even more dangerous when she followed him down the terrace steps and into the garden, deeper into the darkness.
Her mother would disapprove enormously, though she wouldn’t have minded nearly so much if it had been Lord Milton.
Mr Englishby was Mrs Constantine’s least favourite of the suitors, since his fortune was not especially large and she harboured some serious reservations about his character.
Allegra harboured them too, but then, she sometimes harboured reservations about her own character also.
Being good was tiring, she found, and didn’t come naturally.
She had no idea if others felt the same.
Perhaps so, since some of the bushes were shaking curiously, and soft noises – whispers, moans – could be heard in the otherwise silent garden.
She tried not to hear them, tried not to imagine what they might mean – but that was impossible.
She could, perhaps, try to tell herself that this adventure she had so rashly committed herself to was just a part of her important research.
If she was considering marrying this man and he wanted to kiss her – he must surely be bringing her out here to kiss her – she should at least see if she liked it.
After all, she easily might not; she couldn’t know.
It would be ideal, of course, to kiss all three of her suitors without any commitment on either part, but that sort of thing was very definitely not allowed.
There were rules. Conventions. It just wasn’t done.
Unfairly, then, it seemed that this was the only chance that she was being offered.
Out here in the warm night with a man she had no reason to trust, she was aware that there was something specious about her entire argument.
But she didn’t care. Suddenly, she wanted to know this, at least. Enough dalliance, enough fine words and guesswork. She wanted something real and solid.
Mr Englishby stopped and turned, and took her hand, raising it to his lips.
She was gloved, of course, annoyingly, but still she shivered when his lips brushed her fingers.
Taking this as encouragement, he put his hand boldly on her waist and drew her close.
‘Miss Constantine…’ he breathed. ‘Allegra…’
She would never know what he might have said next, and what her own reaction would have been.
‘Deplorable,’ a deep voice growled, so close it made her start and look wildly about her.
‘I don’t mean to set myself up as an arbiter of public morality – that would be quite ridiculous, you need not tell me so – but Englishby, I have to ask if this young lady’s chaperon knows you are here with her, or if, perhaps, you have her father’s permission to address her?
Though even if you do, I doubt that gentleman would imagine you’d be going about it in a hydrangea bush. ’
‘Whether I do or don’t, it’s none of your damn business!’ the man who’d been about to kiss her replied with instant belligerence. But quietly, she couldn’t help but notice. ‘Who the hell are you to poke your nose into my private affairs?’
Allegra had a sinking sense that she knew. It wasn’t Sir Harry or Lord Milton, but it was a voice she recognised, for its sardonic quality as much as anything else, even though they’d never actually had a conversation before.
The man stepped forward so that his face was no longer in shadow.
It was Mr Severin, of course. Who else? Englishby seemed to deflate a little in an instant, perhaps because Severin was a man of far more formidable build than he, and one who was famous throughout the ton as a skilled amateur boxer and regular sparring partner of Gentleman Jackson.
Even Allegra had heard as much, despite her utter lack of interest in the man. Either man.
The new arrival said urbanely now, ‘This lady’s mother saw her depart, and sent me to fetch her, discreetly.
I suggest you take yourself off, Englishby, and say not a word of the matter afterwards, unless you wish to answer to me for your loose tongue.
After all, there is no harm done, is there? Nothing happened.’
In an instant, without another word, the young gentleman melted into the shadows as if he’d never been there at all, vanishing before Severin had even finished speaking.
He abandoned Allegra with an unflattering haste that left her fuming.
Whatever else he was, Mr Englishby, it seemed, was a coward, and he was all too obviously frightened of Mr Severin.
She probably should be too, but she wasn’t.
Or only a little – enough to be thrilling.
They stood, confronting each other, moving instinctively back into the safety of concealment.
Allegra was aware that this man hadn’t uttered her name – if anyone was eavesdropping but couldn’t see her, they’d still have no idea who she was.
She must be grateful for that, she supposed, if for nothing else.
But what did this infuriating creature want?
It was foolish to be curious – she should instead make her escape right now.
He’d rescued her from Englishby and from her own imprudence – not that she’d wanted that in the least – but it would be foolish to imagine that anyone was going to rescue her from him.
She didn’t take so much as a step away. ‘That was nothing but a lie,’ she hissed rashly.
It was hard to be adequately and satisfyingly angry when you were obliged to whisper your invective.
‘You said my mother sent you, and that was a shameless lie. She doesn’t even know you and she’d never do such a thing even if she did.
She’d come herself, and drag me back inside like a naughty schoolgirl. ’
‘I will bow to your superior knowledge of your parent, but the rest of what you say is perfectly correct,’ he replied, annoyingly unruffled, perpetually amused.
‘You see, I thought the mention of your alarming mama would be the most effective way to get rid of the young idiot. And I was right, which is gratifying.’
She wasn’t in the least mollified by this admission. ‘He was right too, when he said that whatever he and I were doing out here was none of your affair.’
‘Whatever you were doing? I think it’s painfully obvious what you were doing. Or about to do.’
She blazed, quietly, ‘And what of it? It has nothing in the world to do with you, sir! I know you dislike me—’
‘Oh, there you are fair and far off,’ he interrupted smoothly. ‘I don’t dislike you, Miss Constantine. On the contrary, I desire you.’
She was silent for a long moment, thunderstruck, a tide of hot blood surging through her body.
Nobody had ever said such a thing to her before – nothing close to it.
People didn’t say such things at all, in her limited experience.
Was this real enough for her? Eventually she managed to respond, stiffly, ‘I have never had the least notion that I should consider you one of my suitors…’
‘I congratulate you on your good sense. I am not one of those poor gentry.’ When she made no reply to this insulting remark, he went on, his deep voice very low, his body so close that she had a fancy she could feel the warmth of him on the bare skin of her arms and neck and upper chest, ‘You will no doubt inform me if I am mistaken, I know I can trust you for that, but it seemed to me that this fine evening, madam, you were determined to be kissed. What could be more natural, on a warm night in June? And seeing that, all at once it was unendurable to me that that popinjay should be the lucky man. He doesn’t deserve it and wouldn’t appreciate it properly.
So I followed you, and here I am, at your service. ’
‘You think I want to kiss you?’ she gasped. Her tones were uneven, and even in her confusion she was sorry to show him that much emotion. It was very hard to believe that this was really happening. Was she dreaming? Perhaps it would be safer to accept that she was.
‘I think you want to kiss somebody. And I also think…’ Here his hand came out, ungloved, and one long finger traced the full outline of her lip before she could find it in herself to pull away.
She had an odd fancy that she might turn her head and take that insolent finger into her mouth.
What then? Would she nip at it? She was possessed by a sudden strong urge to do so, and though she’d often wanted to bite someone before, usually one of her sisters, and very occasionally had given in to the temptation, it had not been anything at all like this.
‘I also think you’d rather not kiss someone who will take that simple embrace as a tacit promise that you’ll marry him.
Such kisses are traps, and you of all people should beware being caught.
I don’t think you want to marry any of them. ’
‘I don’t know whether I do or not, that’s the problem,’ she said, and cursed herself for her stupid honesty as soon as the words were uttered.
‘You just want to kiss and be kissed,’ he said with odious confidence.
‘I don’t see how you can imagine that you know such a thing about me,’ she said crossly.
Though she had not referred to it by word or gesture and nor had he, his fingers were slowly and lightly, so very lightly trailing across her cheek now, and then down her neck.
Another first. She was trembling, she realised.
It should be fear or anger, she knew it should, but it wasn’t.
She had no wish to put a name to what it was.
‘But I do know it. I am quite sure of it. Am I wrong?’
‘You may not dislike me, but I dislike you!’
‘I daresay. What of it? I’m not sure I like you either – what a boring word for a boring emotion.
I haven’t said I do, you know. The fact is, I have not wasted time considering the matter, and I may in fact be perfectly indifferent to your character, as much as I know of it.
But that doesn’t prevent me wanting – very much – to take you in my arms and put my mouth on yours. ’
‘Don’t you have to like people to want to kiss them?
’ she breathed, though if she were being truthful with herself, she’d not have needed to ask.
More new information. Among all her confusion, she was honestly interested.
Men were very odd, her mother had said, and it seemed she had been annoyingly correct. Women too, perhaps.
‘Of course not!’ he said, and took a firm hold of her, drawing her into his arms.