The Earl's Prize
“How pleasant to see
you again, Miss Bainbridge,” Joss Tallant said, in
his lazy drawl. He relinquished her hand with studied
slowness. “I appreciate that it must be a trial for
you to acknowledge such dangerous acquaintances as myself
and Fleet, and I admire your fortitude!”
“I do not believe that there is any
likelihood of my being overset by the experience, my
lord,” Amy said coolly. “We will not be
keeping you from your party for long, I am sure.”
Joss smiled faintly. “If you
wished to keep me from my companions I should be
delighted, Miss Bainbridge! They are at daggers
drawn and it is most tiring. May I tempt you to a stroll
down the Dark Walk instead?”
Amy gave him a very straight look.
“No, my lord, you may not.”
“A pity.” Joss’s
speculative expression made her face burn. He
considered the cream-coloured gown and lilac ribbons, and
put out one gloved hand to touch the matching scarf
lightly.
“You look very pretty tonight, Miss
Bainbridge. And I believe I must congratulate you -
I have heard rumours that you have come into a fortune.”
Amy flicked the scarf out of his fingers.
Despite the lightness of his words there was a very
different expression in his eyes. It looked oddly
like anger – or disappointment - and the set of his
mouth was grim for a moment. Then he saw her
watching him and relaxed.
“It is only a temporary fortune,”
she said swiftly, wondering as she spoke why on earth she
felt the need to justify herself to him. It was
strange, but with Joss she always seemed to say more than
she intended. Perhaps it was because he made her self-conscious
and so she chattered to cover her discomfort.
Whatever the cause, there was an uncomfortable awareness
fizzing through her blood.
“A temporary fortune?” Joss
raised his brows. “How original! Does it turn
to dust and ashes at midnight?”
“Pray do not be ridiculous, sir,”
Amy said, trying not to laugh. “The fortune
itself is not temporary, merely my tenure of it. I
am looking after it for someone...”
She stopped, wishing that she had said
nothing. This was awkward, for although she knew
she might have to speak to Joss about the ownership of
the lottery money at some point, this was hardly the time
or place to eliminate him from her enquiries.
“And you have been spending some of
it for them, by the looks of things,” Joss said
dryly, his gaze skimming her gown again. “Indeed,
how could you resist?”
Amy frowned a little. Given her previous
misgivings about spending the money, this touched a nerve.
“I do not know what business it is of yours,”
she said, a little sharply.
Joss took her hand again and held
on when she tried to pull it from his grip. “I
beg your pardon. It is none of my business indeed.
Indulge my curiosity, Miss Bainbridge… Why did you
purchase a beautiful new outfit and yet wear it with
darned gloves?”
His thumb was smoothing the top of her
glove as he spoke, the soft, repeated caress sending a
tingle through her blood. Amy’s eyes jerked up
to meet his, then she broke the contact equally swiftly.
She felt very hot and bothered for such a cool evening.
“They are only tiny darns. I
could not discard a pair of gloves for so trivial a
reason-”
“But you could have bought new ones…”
“Extravagance!” Amy said.
“As I told you, the money is not mine.” She
would have sounded like Lady Bainbridge deploring
wastefulness were it not for the fact that Joss’s
touch was undermining her composure and her voice came
out with a husky edge. She knew he had heard it
too; she saw his gaze sharpen on her with all the
predatory intent of a man who knew exactly the effect he
could have on a woman. Their eyes locked, his
bright and hard with an emotion that took her breath.
Amy gave a little gasp as a shiver went through her.
He felt it; she saw a slight smile touch his mouth as he
held her gaze very deliberately with his.
“Amy!” Lady Bainbridge’s
fluting tones brought her straight out of the dream.
“Here is Mr Quarles asking to escort you to supper.
Excuse me, my lord…” She looked at Joss
meaningfully, evidently hoping he would take himself off
and leave the field clear for a genuine suitor.
Joss released Amy’s hand gently.
“Then I shall relinquish you, Miss Bainbridge, but I
shall hope to see you again soon.”
He gave her a bow, acknowledged the
hovering Mr Quarles with the very slightest inclination
of the head, and fell into step beside Fleet as they
strolled back to their box. Amy let her breath out
on a long sigh as she felt her body relax slightly.
The blood was still singing through her veins and she
felt shaken.
“What a shame that the gentlemen are
already engaged for supper,” Lady Bainbridge said,
clearly torn between enjoying the exalted company and
disapproving of the gentlemen’s reputations.
Quarles offered Amy his arm as they moved off to find
their own box.
“I do not believe that you should
cultivate the company of such gentlemen, madam,” he
said, in the querulous, reedy voice that Amy remembered.
“Tallant has an unsavoury reputation and Fleet is
little better. Sadly unsteady, ma’am, sadly
unsteady!”
Lady Bainbridge looked crushed and Amy
thought that she heard Richard smother a guffaw.
No doubt Mr Quarles was correct and she should prefer his
steady presence to the more mercurial charm of the Earl
of Tallant. Unfortunately, some perverse part of her, the
part that could still feel the echo of Joss’s touch,
persisted in thinking that the Earl was more exciting
company. Not that that meant she would seek him out.
Indeed that would be a very foolish course. Joss
was experienced and she was not, and Amy’s
commonsense told her that his attentions to her could
have no real substance. It was a sophisticated game
of flirtation that she had no intention of playing.
The following afternoon, a footman
delivered a pair of beautifully-embroidered gloves that
fitted her without a wrinkle. There was no card,
but Amy knew perfectly well where they had come from and
she spent plenty of time thinking about it whilst she
helped Patience to polish the windows. Commonsense was
all very well, she thought with a sigh, but the
attentions of a rake were more fun, even when she should
know better...
