Page 102 of Doxy for the Ton
“Perhaps you need something to eat. I’ve a plate waiting at your seat—that is, if Lady Radham hasn’t accidentally sat on it.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Or perhaps Miss Francis may have sat on it, thinking it a broom handle.”
Mimi smiled, and he returned her to her seat, where he presented her with a plate of chicken and a glass of wine. For the rest of the evening, she endeavored to enjoy the music, though her instincts screamed in protest at the predator in the room. But each time she glanced across the room, Mayhew was engrossed in the woman next to him, the music, or the glass in his hand.
He had no reason to recognize her. But she couldn’t suppress her fear at the memory of those pale eyes staring at her unblinkingly, like an adder poised to strike.
Chapter Twenty-One
What had distressedher so much during the interval?
One moment Mimi was trying not to laugh at the suggestion that the unpleasant Miss Francis pleasure herself with a broom, then the next, she was trembling and darting her gaze about like a fox that had spotted a pack of hounds. During the second half of the evening, she occasionally glanced across the crowd of guests, but Alexander saw nobody with whom she was acquainted. Unless…
Unless she recognized a former customer. In which case,theyhad more to be ashamed of than her.
The urge to ask her swelled in his heart, but he couldn’t bring himself to betray her trust by posing such a question. She did not deserve to be treated like a doxy. He had long since ceased to think of her as such.
As the guests filed into the hallway uttering the usual pleasantries and superlatives about the evening, Alexander and Whitcombe left the ladies in the ballroom while they went in search of their cloaks. Then he spotted Thorpe in conversation with the odious Earl Mayhew.
“Ah, Sawbridge, Whitcombe,” Thorpe said. “An excellent evening, was it not?”
“Very,” Alexander said. “We don’t often seeyouin London, Mayhew.”
“One must make an appearance for the sake of giving charity to the lower classes,” Mayhew replied.
“Are you in Town long?” Alexander asked.
“I return to the country for Christmas.” Mayhew tilted his head to one side. “I was hoping to see Radham tonight,” he said. “To console him on the loss of his brother. Such a bitter blow, for the sake of a drunken whim, do you not think, Sawbridge?”
Alexander fisted his hands to suppress the rage boiling in his gut. How long must he be punished for what happened to Robert Staines?
“I say, Mayhew, I hardly think that’s called for,” Thorpe said.
“Sawbridge doesn’t mind, do you, old chap?” Mayhew said, fixing his soulless gray gaze on Alexander. “The events of the past, particularly sins, should always be acknowledged.”
“Which they have been, Mayhew,” Alexander said. “Have you acknowledged allyoursins? I’ll wager they’re plentiful.”
Mayhew let out a mirthless laugh. “You always were a rum fellow, Sawbridge. Tell me—who is that delectable creature you brought with you tonight?”
“Nobody who’d care to knowyou.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mayhew said. “A woman robust enough to hazard an acquaintance with you is to be admired—unless she’s unaware of the fate of Robert Staines.”
“She’s aware of it,” Alexander said.
“Thorpe tells me she’s lately arrived in England,” Mayhew said. “What’s her opinion of London Society?”
“Favorable so far,” Alexander said. “So you can, therefore, understand why I have no wish to introduce you. And if—as you’re trying to say without having the courage to speak outright—I pose a danger to those within my vicinity, you’d be advised to quit it forthwith.”
Mayhew let out a laugh, but his eyes remained cold. Then he inclined his head, wished Thorpe and Whitcombe a pleasant evening, and disappeared into the crowd.
“That was almost an insult,” Thorpe said.
“Onlyalmost?” Alexander replied. “I must be losing my touch.”
“Did Lady Rex enjoy the concert?” Thorpe asked.
