‘I agreed to call him Eden, and to allow him to call me Maude—in private, of course—in exchange for him agreeing about the charity,’ Maude informed them smugly.
‘So he is moving the relationship on to more intimate ground, is he? Oh dear, Maude.’
‘I thought it was a step forward,’ she protested. ‘But I have discovered what he likes about me, and it is hardly particularly flattering.’
‘What?’ They both regarded her with gratifying interest.
‘He likes my lack of feminine wiles. Apparently I do not wheedle or pout when I want something.’
‘Perhaps surrounded by thespian temperaments he appreciates something less dramatic and easy to deal with,’ Jessica suggested. ‘It is encouraging, I suppose—if you are really set on this. So, what is the next step?’
Maude had been agonising over whether to confide in her friends about the dinner. It would be the sensible thing to do. The prudent thing. But they would doubtless try to talk her out of it. ‘I am to attend the auditions for a replacement ingénue for the company.’
‘Fascinating,’ Bel drawled. ‘Of course you’ll love that. Who in their right mind would want to go shopping, or driving or making calls when they can sit in a dusty theatre watching auditions?’
‘Me,’ Maude stated. And realised it was not just the prospect of Eden’s company that made her so eager—she was looking forward to watching him at work. Would he listen to her opinions or would he tolerate only her presence? ‘I enjoy shopping too,’ she added, in case they thought she had undergone a complete change of personality. ‘What do you think of this hat?’
‘Delicious,’ Jessica pronounced, leaning over to pick up the black straw bonnet with its high poke, tall crown and row after row of looped and ruched green ribbon. ‘You don’t wear this sort of thing to go behind the scenes at the Unicorn, do you?’
‘No, there’s dust everywhere and people rushing about with pots of paint, or gesticulating with a handful of greasepaint sticks.’ And she did not want to look too obvious. Eden was going to wonder at it if she turned up in the latest fashions. ‘I’m wearing last year’s walking and carriage outfits mainly.’
‘Oh, those old things,’ Jessica teased. ‘You won’t catch a man by wearing last year’s fashions.’
‘You caught one dressed like a governess,’ Bel pointed out.
‘And I changed into garments fit only for a courtesan very soon after we met. I have a strong suspicion that Gareth rather preferred the latter.’
‘I am not sure Eden notices what I wear,’ Maude said, anxious. ‘He seems not to be interested in unmarried ladies.’
‘Really?’ Both Bel and Jessica looked relieved.
‘No, nor actresses, as far as I can see. But according to Lady Wallace he goes through married ladies like a knife through butter, just as you said.’
Her friends regarded her with wide-eyed interest. ‘I knew I was right about his reputation,’ Bel said. ‘What else does Lady W. say?’
‘That he only stays with them the once, however much they plead. And that he is…um, spectacular.’
‘Spectacular?’
‘In bed,’ Maude mumbled, wondering just what spectacular involved in practice.
‘Really? Rich, handsome and a spectacular lover—you certainly have good judgement, Maude,’ Bel remarked.
‘He is also in business and illegitimate,’ Jessica reminded her tartly. ‘And the last thing we want is for Maude to be seduced—however wonderful the experience—and then abandoned after one night. Do we?’
‘Well, no, of course not. But Maude is very levelheaded…’
Jessica snorted. ‘Not about this man, she isn’t. You forget, I was there when she first saw him. We were standing in Mr Todmorton’s shop and in he walks, looking like a dark angel from the chillier regions of Hell, and Maude just stood there gawking.’
‘I am here, you know,’ Maude interjected, annoyed. ‘You do not have to speak about me as though I was somewhere else. And I didn’t gawk, I was merely struck dumb with desire. Dark angel, my foot!’ The fact that it perfectly described Eden when he was in one of his frostier moods was neither here nor there; she refused to believe that was the real person. Behind that façade was someone much warmer, someone who needed her love as much as she needed his.
‘Yes, exactly: desire,’ Bel said seriously. ‘You do know what happens when a man makes love to you, don’t you, Maude, because we don’t want you being swept out of your depth through ignorance.’
Maude retreated into one corner of the sofa, clutching a cushion against her stomach defensively. ‘Of course I understand what’s involved. And I have been kissed and—’
‘I mean the bit between him kissing you and the point of no return.’
‘Not precisely.’ Maude rather suspected that the point of no return would be reached rather rapidly if—when—Eden kissed her again, but she was not going to say so or her two friends would probably insist on chaperoning her every