Page 8 of The Model Debutante
‘But what happened?’ William was persisting. ‘Are you quite sure you are not injured, Miss Grey? Perhaps we should send for the doctor, Mama.’
Despite the self-effacing meekness of the slender figure in front of him and the fact that she had spoken hardly a word, Nick was quite certain he knew exactly what the young woman’s problem was. It was not often that his conscience pricked him, but he felt its unfamiliar sting now.
‘I believe Miss Grey is wounded in spirits, not in her person. She collided with a gentleman in the street and had the misfortune to choose one who was not only so slow that he allowed her possessions to be crushed under the wheels of a passing carriage but who then had the impertinence to recompense her for the damage in a way which was, I believe, very ill-judged.’
He felt a stirring of interest as Tallie’s eyes lifted. There it was again, that mixture of spirit and – surely not? – fear flashing out from behind the subdued front she was presenting.
‘Ill-judged?’ she snapped, then appeared to recollect herself. He found himself both intrigued and amused. ‘Yes, my lord, you are correct,’ she added softly, and he realised her gaze was on his face, reading what little emotion he allowed to appear there. ‘Although I am sure the gentleman’s actions sprang from a genuine desire to make amends and not from the wish to – shall we say, tease? – an inferior.’
‘Touché,’ he murmured, enjoying the emerald flash of her eyes.So, Miss Grey, you are prepared to duel are you?
‘Nicholas,’ his aunt demanded, ‘are you the gentleman in question?’
‘I have to confess I am, Aunt,’ he admitted, turning slightly to meet her indignant look. ‘And I am justly reproved by Miss Grey. I had no idea that she was a young lady kindly undertaking an errand for you. I mistook her for a milliner’s girl.’
‘Iama milliner’s girl, my lord,’ Tallie said in frigidly polite tones. So, Miss Grey was not attempting to presume upon her patroness’s friendly treatment. And she was certainly not going to toady to Lady Parry’s nephew. How refreshing. He let his gaze linger on her face as she continued. ‘If you will excuse me, Lady Parry, you will wish to speak in private to the gentlemen, I am sure. I will take the undamaged hat upstairs and leave it with your dresser. I will naturally make every effort to have the otherone replaced within the week.’
She stood up, dropped another curtsey to Lady Parry, picked up the hat boxes and walked briskly to the door before Nick could get to his feet and step past her to open it. As she reached for the door handle it turned and Rainbird stepped into the room.
‘Mr Lynley is here to see his lordship, my lady,’ he announced. Nick stopped where he was with an inward flash of irritation. Damn Lynley. The man was showing not the slightest sign of becoming bored with William, despite Nick’s persistently accompanying his cousin to every gambling den and sporting venue that Lynley invited him to.
He had made no attempt to fleece William while Nick was there. Possibly Nick was misjudging him and he was not the Captain Sharp he suspected, but he rather feared the combination of William’s innocence and large fortune and Lynley’s financial embarrassment and lack of scruple was every bit as dangerous as he thought.
Either way, he was getting more than a little weary of chaperoning his cousin. Beside anything else it was putting a decided dampener on the more sophisticated pleasures with which Nick Stangate normally entertained himself when in London.
Beside him his aunt nodded assent to the butler and Rainbird stood aside and ushered the visitor into the room.
Nick saw Miss Grey step back, but even so she could not escape coming face to face with the man who was entering the room. Why the devil was she blushing? Nick could see the colour staining her throat from across the room. Damn the man, had he murmured some remark? Could Lynley not restrain himself from flirting with every woman who crossed his path? He schooled his face, resisting the temptation to take a hand. It was not part of his tactics to cross swords with the man yet.
‘Lady Parry, ma’am. A thousand apologies for disturbing you.’
Flustered, Tallie found herself alone in the hall with the butler. ‘I will just go up to Miss Hodgson with this hat, Rainbird.’
‘There is no need, Miss Grey, I will have it taken up directly. May I call you a hackney carriage?’
This time Tallie had no hesitation in accepting, despite the very short distance to Albermarle Street where Miss Gower lived. She sat back against the squabs and contemplated the stained hat boxes on the seat opposite in an unsuccessful effort to keep her mind off those two unsettling encounters.
Infuriating man. If only she did not feel such a strong sense of obligation to Lord Arndale for the chivalrous way he had behaved yesterday she could feel thoroughly and justifiably cross with him. And as for Mr Lynley – well, he was just as much of a rake as she had imagined from what she had heard at the studio. The gleam in his blue eyes and the swift wink he had sent her as they passed in the doorway confirmed that opinion. A very good looking rake of course, if one had a penchant for that style of rather obvious blond handsomeness. And if one were prepared to tolerate such an insolent regard. Now she had been seen but not recognised by three of the four men from the studio. She closed her eyes and gave thanks once again for Lord Arndale’s chivalry.
The hackney pulled up in front of Miss Gower’s dark green front door and Tallie jumped down with one box. ‘Please wait, I will not be above ten minutes.’
Miss Gower had not been well for several weeks now and her maid had told Tallie that the doctor had forbidden any but the shortest visits, but even ill-health was not enough to stop the indomitable old lady’s interest in her appearance. Of all her little indulgences pretty hats was perhaps her favourite and the more frivolous the creation that Tallie could show her, the happier shewas.
On this occasion however Tallie saw with dismay that the heavy brass knocker was wrapped in baize. She tapped gently and the door was opened by Smithson, Miss Gower’s butler who Tallie suspected was nearly as old as his mistress.
‘Oh, Miss Grey,’ he said lugubriously. ‘The mistress cannot see you, I am afraid. Very poorly she is this morning, very poorly indeed.’
‘I am sorry to hear that, Smithson.’ The old man looked so shaky and distressed that Tallie wished she could give him a hug, but she knew he would be scandalised. ‘Will you tell her I called and that I sent my best wishes for her recovery?’
‘No hope of that, Miss Grey. No hope of that at all. Dr Knighton called yesterday and warned us all.’ He sniffed. ‘Slipping away…slipping away.’
Tallie hesitated. ‘Should I leave her new hat do you think, Smithson?’
‘Yes please, Miss Grey. I will put it on the stand next to her bed so she can see it. That will give her so much pleasure. Is it a pretty one, Miss Grey?’
‘Very,’ Tallie assured him. ‘Her favourite pink ribbons, and ruched silk all under the brim, and just one pink rose tucked above the ear.’
‘Oh she’ll like that, Miss Grey.’ The old man took the box in both tremulous hands.
