Page 27 of The Model Debutante
‘I think we are about to find out.’ Nick got to his feet, forcing himself to do so slowly. He sauntered out into the hall with William at his heels and waited at the foot of the stairs, his head tilted so he could see the full sweep of polished mahogany treads.
His ears had caught the sound of bedroom doors shutting and he did not have long to wait. Faintly the sound of his aunt urging someone to go on in front of her reached them in the hall, then a vision appeared.
Nick thought he had been prepared for what he would see. But he was not prepared for this. A tall, slender figure in a dress of silver spider gauze over white crepe appeared to be floating down the stairs, one white gloved hand resting lightly on the rail.
Huge green eyes, serious with the effort of maintaining both poise and a sweep of fragile skirts, full red lips slightly parted with nervousness and crowning it all a crown of gilt curls falling from a severely upswept mass of hair. As she got closer he realised that Tallie’s face was pale and the soft tendrils of hairwhich had been teased loose around her temples were quivering slightly.
Tallie looked exquisite, terrified and, for the first time since he had known her, achingly vulnerable. There was no sign of the fierce independence, the anger when he crossed her, the aloof calm behind which she could so disconcertingly vanish along with her secrets.
Nick felt his entire body tighten, harden, rack with desire and that desire warred with a fierce protectiveness. He wanted to seize her in his arms, carry her to the nearest bed – or the floor, or the sofa – or take her there and then in the hallway. And he wanted to stop any man, himself included, who so much as laid a finger on her.
For once in his life Nick found words beyond him and it was his inexperienced cousin who knew exactly the right thing to say.
‘Tallie, you look absolutely gorgeous. May I have a waltz?’
Nick felt more than saw Tallie’s gaze sweep over him to William. He saw her anxious face break into a smile of relief at the frank admiration and then she was past him in a soft cloud of silk gauze and jasmine perfume before he could find his own voice.
‘Thank you, William. I would love that. Here, please can you write it on my card?’ Nick watched as his cousin lifted the little folded card with its minute pencil which dangled from her wrist and carefully inscribed his name. He was aware of his aunt arriving at the foot of the stairs beside him and he turned abruptly to greet her as Tallie raised one hand to touch William’s lapel. ‘That neck cloth is the best yet,’ she confided quietly.
Was Aunt Kate regarding him with covert amusement? People did not as a rule laugh at Nick Stangate. He narrowed his eyes at her but she simply smiled and whispered wickedly, ‘Close your mouth, dear,’ before stepping to one side to allow room for her dresser who was carrying the ladies’ cloaks.
It took some time to fit the four of them into the carriage without crushing skirts, knocking tall silk hats or mangling the magnificent plumes which were topping his aunt’s coiffure, but it was achieved at last.
Nick had begun to realise that a good part of Talie’s nervousness as she came downstairs was because of their last encounter and hoped now that the forced closeness might break the ice a little. He had been torn between kicking himself for letting that kiss happen, a fervent desire to do it again and a rather cooler interest in what it had taught him about her.
Whatever the secret she was guarding from him so carefully, it did not involve an entanglement with a man. There was no mistaking the innocent shock as his lips had met hers. That had been her first kiss and he felt a strange sense of privilege that it was he who had given it to her. Was that just a glimpse of a man’s feelings when he took his bride’s virginity? The thought shook him so much that he shifted in his seat abruptly, knocking William’s elbow.
‘Sorry. Cramp.’ The thought of initiating Tallie into the arts of lovemaking was so powerfully erotic he was thankful for the dimly lit interior of the carriage. But it was the word “bride” which really shook him. Marrying a milliner-come-lady, and one with presumably disreputable secrets, was not in his plans at all. He had no need of a bride with a fortune, he was eligible enough to have his pick of whatever Society beauties crossed his path and his intention was to find a well-bred young lady who would fit neatly into his life, produce his heirs, ornament his drawing room and generally make life agreeable.
Nick gritted his teeth, crossed his legs with care and reviewed his tactics. Discover exactly what that secret was – that was the first thing. Deal with it if possible, cover it up if not. And if it was really bad, remove Miss Grey from his aunt’s household and set her up with her school and her lodging houses and whateverother schemes she had in mind. Safely out of Society, that was the best plan. It would be the most comfortable solution for everyone concerned. And in the meantime, make sure that no-one made her a declaration. The thought of a lurking scandal being compounded by Tallie having a romantic entanglement with a member of thetonwas too much.
In consequence he emerged from the carriage looking so grim that the first of his friends he encountered enquired archly whether he had suffered a crushing reversal on the ’Change or whether his favourite racehorse had died or if he was about to be called out by an enraged husband.
‘But no,’ Freddie Archibald said with a baffled look when Nick just shook his head at him. ‘You’re too sharp to be burnt by your investments, your racing stable is too well-stocked for you to suffer greatly by the loss of just one animal and you are well-known to avoid the charms of married ladies. So why the scowl?’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Freddie,’ Nick said, managing a laugh.
He stationed himself at his aunt’s side by a pillar against which he leaned, arms crossed, regarding the dance floor with brooding indifference. It did not prevent him overhearing one impressionable young lady who was passing on the arm of her brother.
‘He issoromantic,’ she remarked languishingly. ‘Just like Lord Byron.’
‘Dash it all, Lizzie,’ her brother replied in shocked tones. ‘You can’t compare Arndale to that poseur of a poet. Byron’s dashed badton– and he’s putting on weight.’
Nick shook his head and continued watching his cousin circle the dance floor with Tallie in his arms. They made a very fetching picture, both fair-haired, both tall enough to be striking and both with a natural grace which made up for the fact that William was still inclined to fall over his feet on occasion and Tallie had never danced in public before.
He had no real fear that Tallie was going to try and attach William, whatever she said to tease him, so why he should feel so thoroughly out of sorts he could not imagine. He had a plan to deal with the chit and that should be the end of it.
Aunt Kate had attracted her usual group of bosom friends around her and from the hum of conversation he could tell she had done her work well to prepare for Tallie’s first appearance.
Ladies were sighing at the thought of the well-born girl forced by undeserved poverty to work with her needle and skilful fingers to earn an honest living. It was rapidly borne in on Nick that his inventive aunt had done more than sow a few seeds and let natural sympathy do the rest. She had been engaged on some major embroidery.
‘How dreadful that a parent’s well-intentioned plan should go so frightfully amiss,’ one dowager was saying to another.
‘Indeed,’ the other lady responded, unaware of Nick’s sharp ears bent in her direction. ‘To have tied up Miss Grey’s fortune until she was twenty-five in order to deter fortune hunters was very wise, but then to have omitted to provide her with the means of support until she reached that age…’
Nick swivelled slowly to meet his aunt’s eyes and was met with a look of calm innocence which almost charmed a grin out of him. ‘Baggage,’ he mouthed silently before turning to see where Tallie and William had got to. The music had ended and she ought to be on her way back to her chaperone.
There she was, talking with William in a knot of attentive gentlemen. Nick caught William’s eye and jerked his head slightly in a signal to steer her back, but he was too late. The music struck up again and Miss Grey was being led out onto the floor by Jack Lynley.
