LITMIR.BIZ

      The needs of Miss Caterina Chester were of an immediate kind upon which good breeding and example from her elders would have not the slightest effect, and when she might have benefited from her aunt’s advice, that dear lady was talking privately with Lord Elyot.

      Lord Rayne’s professed enthusiasm for the music of Mr Haydn appeared to have deserted him and, despite Caterina’s invitation to sit close to her, he neither helped her to interpret the score nor did he take advantage of their closeness, which Caterina thought a great waste. There was not even a hand-touching. Not even a long gaze into her eyes. Nothing except a murmured enquiry about her aunt’s horses.

      In Buxton, she and her sister had commanded a faithful following of male and female friends who had taken the art of flirting just a little way beyond the boundaries proscribed by their governess. But Lord Rayne was in a class all his own—a man, the very first attractive man who had shown her some interest, and she was falling more deeply in love with him each day. If she was not allowed to show it, how would he ever know? Was she supposed to wait for ever?

      ‘Will you tell me something, Lord Rayne?’ she said. ‘Without thinking me too presumptuous?’

      ‘Probably, my dear Miss Chester,’ he drawled, stifling a yawn.

      ‘Probably what? You’ll think I’m being presumptuous?’

      ‘Er…oh, no. Of course not. What is it?’

      ‘Then may I ask you your age?’

      ‘That’s easy enough. Twenty-four. Why?’

      ‘Seven years older than me. That’s quite a lot.’ Caterina sighed, gathered the music sheets together and took them over to the table. ‘So am I the youngest of your lady friends?’ She glanced down to appreciate the smooth curves inside the white muslin, which could hardly have failed to impress him.

      ‘Oh, by far,’ he said, knowing exactly where this was leading.

      ‘And am I.? But, no, that’s unfair, isn’t it?’

      ‘Is it?’

      ‘Yes. I was about to ask if I’m the prettiest, but you would be bound to say yes out of politeness.’

      ‘No, I assure you I wouldn’t.’

      ‘Wouldn’t what?’

      ‘Say yes out of politeness.’

      ‘Oh. Then what would you say?’ She turned to stare at him, feeling that her innocent enquiries had suddenly turned into a challenge.

      ‘I would say, Miss Chester, that you were angling for compliments, and that I never compare my lady friends with each other for their delight. Bad form, you know.’

      ‘But I was not angling for compliments. I simply wanted to know what kind of lady attracts you. I’m sure you must have known dozens.’

      Lord Rayne strolled over to the window, wondering how long his brother would take to win the prickly widow to his side. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Dozens.’ It was some time before he noticed that the questions had stopped. ‘Well…er…not exactly dozens, but a fair few, anyway. Look,’ he said, realising that something was going amiss, ‘shall we go down into the garden? Is that a summer house over there?’

      It was a mistake. He knew it as soon as Caterina’s face softened into a flirtatious smile with a well-rehearsed nibble at her bottom lip.

      ‘Yes,’ she said, suddenly demure again. ‘I’ll show it to you, shall I?’

      Summoning all his past experiences of summer houses, Lord Rayne wondered whether she would employ the squeeze-through-the-door technique, the cobweb-in-the-hair, or the it’s-quite-cold-in-here method. As it turned out, she tried the one where the top of her sleeve gets caught on something, but he was saved from the predictable consequences of that by the timely arrival of his brother and Lady Chester, who appeared to be gently arguing. Then, after a summary of the view across Richmond, they were off again, the men to their horses and Lady Chester to a late breakfast.

      For Caterina, it was to do some soul-searching about the ingredients lacking in her usually irresistible flirting. ‘What more can I do?’ she asked, almost in tears.

      ‘Less,’ said Aunt Amelie, ‘not more. Rarely more, my dear.’ Impolitely, she licked the last smear of porridge off the back of her spoon and placed it at an exact half-past position in her empty bowl so as not to spoil the symmetry of the design. ‘Will you take chocolate?’

      ‘Yes, please. If I did any less, he’d fall asleep.’

      ‘That’s not what I meant. Pass your cup. What I mean is that you appear to be taking the lead, Caterina. That doesn’t give a man much to do, you see.'Amelie handed back the cup of chocolate, reading the affliction in her niece’s eyes. ‘It’s also a question of age difference, and the best way to deal with that problem, since you cannot catch him up, is to emphasise it. Pretend he’s too old for you, not that you’re too young.’

      ‘How?’

      ‘Easy. Start by ignoring him more. Show less interest in him. Look at him less, and pretend not to hear, sometimes, when he addresses you. That kind of thing. Smile and be animated, but not for his benefit. You’re far too concerned by what he thinks of you at the moment and he knows it. It’s not good for him. Don’t show him your heart. Keep some secrets.’

      ‘You don’t mean that I should cut him, surely?’

      ‘No…oh, no…nothing as drastic. Just pretend he’s a minor character instead of the main one. Men hate to be ignored, love. It really puts them in a quake, especially when they’re supposed to be escorting you. You saw how all those young officers buzzed round you this morning? Well, take advantage of their interest. There was that dashing Captain Flavell at the ball. He was interesting. And the one they called Bessie?’

      ‘Captain Tom Bessingham.’

      ‘Another captain? Well, my dear.’ Amelie sat back, smiling.

      ‘What happens when Lord Rayne offers to take me driving?’

      ‘You don’t have to accept him, my dear. Anyway, we’re riding this afternoon, so when he offers to assist you, show him politely that you don’t need him. It’s just as much fun, you know.’

      Caterina was smiling again. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘oh, yes. I think I could have some fun with that. Where shall we be going?’

      ‘I really haven’t been able to find that out yet.’ She stood up, catching sight of a newly ironed newspaper draped over one of the chairs.

      Lord Elyot had been annoyingly mysterious, and Amelie’s trust in his motives had now taken such a pounding that the idea of a mystery tour held no appeal for her. Although she was trying her hardest to conceal it, the events of that morning had turned her careful plans upside-down along with her personal code, which was to keep men at a distance and, as far as possible, out of her life completely. To progress from that to being little better than a nobleman’s mistress in a matter of days went against all her intentions, for which she blamed Hurst for his baseness, and herself for allowing her heart to rule her head. Lord Elyot was right about her being unworldly, and now her chat to Caterina about how to deal with men had left her feeling distinctly hypocritical and by no means as sure as she sounded about the outcome. Perhaps she ought to take the plunge by taking Caterina into her confidence, but the young lady was having enough trouble understanding her own situation without trying to make sense of her aunt’s also. And there was a limit to Caterina’s knowledge of the Buxton scandal.

      ‘You’ve what?’ said Lord Rayne to his brother. A deep crease drew his dark brows closer together like a thundercloud,

Скачать книгу