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The servant announced Colonel Audley, and he walked in to encounter a flashing glance from Barbara’s eyes. Her lips parted, not smiling, and he saw her teeth gritted together. He laughed, and went up to her, and took her hands. ‘My dear, has it been very bad?’ he asked. ‘Do you think you can bear it?’

She looked at him; her teeth unclenched: she said: ‘Can you?’

‘Why yes, but my case is not so hard. They all envy me, of course.’

The white, angry look left her face. She pulled one of his hands up to her mouth, and softly kissed it. ‘You’re a dear, Charles.’

He took her in his arms. ‘You mustn’t do that,’ he said.

‘I wanted to,’ she replied, turning her face up to his. ‘I always do what I want. Oh, but Charles, how odiously commonplace it is! I wish we had eloped instead!’

‘That would have been worse—vulgar!’

‘What I do is not vulgar!’ she said snappishly.

‘Exactly. So you didn’t elope.’

She moved away from him to cast herself into a chair by the fire. She thrust one bare foot in its golden sandal forward, and demanded: ‘How do you like my gilded toenails?’

‘Very well indeed,’ he answered. ‘Is it a notion of your own?’

‘Oh no! It’s a trick Parisian harlots have!’ she flung at him.

Contrary to her expectation, this made him laugh. She stiffened in her chair. ‘Don’t you care, then?’

‘Not a bit! It’s a charming fashion.’

‘You will hear it very badly spoke of tonight, I warn you!’

‘Oh no, I shan’t!’ said the Colonel cheerfully. ‘Whatever criticisms may be made of you will certainly not be made to me.’

‘Do you mean to fight my battles? You will be kept busy!’ She opened her reticule, and drew a letter from it and handed it to him. ‘Your sister-in-law sent me these felicitations. She doesn’t like me, does she?’

‘No, I don’t think she does,’ responded the Colonel, glancing through Judith’s civil letter.

An impish look came into her eye. ‘I wonder whether she meant you to fall in love with that insipid protégée of hers?’ she said. ‘I can’t recall her name. But an heiress, I believe. Oh, famous! I am sure that was it!’

‘But who?’ he demanded. ‘You do not mean Miss Devenish?’

‘Yes, that was the name! Lord, to think I’ve lost you a fortune, Charles!’

‘You must be crazy! I am persuaded Judith could never have entertained such an absurd notion!’

‘Flirt with the chit, and see how your sister likes it!’

‘No, no, I leave all that sort of thing to you, my sweet!’

‘Wretch! Good God, how has this come about? I have talked myself into a good humour. I swear I meant to quarrel with you!’ A doubt assailed her; she said challengingly: ‘Charles! Was it your doing?’

‘Strategy of a staff officer? On my honour, no!’

She jumped up, and almost flung herself into his arms. There was an urgency in the face upturned to his; she said: ‘Marry me! Marry me soon—at once—before I change my mind!’

He took her face between his hands, staring down at her. She felt his fingers tremble slightly, and wondered what thoughts chased one another behind the trouble in his eyes. Suddenly his hands dropped to her shoulders, and thrust her away from him. ‘No!’ he said curtly.

‘No?’ she repeated. ‘Don’t you want to, Charles?’

‘Want to!’ He broke off, and turned from her to the fireplace, and stood looking down at the smouldering logs.


Tags: Georgette Heyer Alastair-Audley Tetralogy Romance