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Authors: Suzanne Downes
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salute. She raised her fan so that it masked her face from all but he, then mouthed the words, “Come over here.”
Underwood had never been so brazenly propositioned in his life, and he could honestly say that he never for a moment entertained the idea of being unfaithful to Verity, but there was something undeniably compelling about the young woman. With a cautious glance towards the ‘Wablers’, he ascertained they were too engrossed to take heed of his departure, so he strolled casually across the room.
“May I present myself, since there is no mutual acquaintance to perform the service? My name is Underwood.”
She held out a long, slender white hand, tipped with beautifully manicured pink nails, as delicate as tiny seashells, “How do you do, Mr. Underwood?” He took her hand and bowed over it, lifting his eyes to more closely observe her face. It was well worth observing. She was ravishing; guinea gold curls framed a physiognomy of exquisite perfection, and those eyes …
“I’m well, Miss ..?”
“Cara – Lady Cara Lovell.”
“I beg your pardon, my lady.”
“Please, it is of no consequence. I should like you to call me Cara.”
“It’s a pretty name. From the Italian – ‘dear girl’ – I suspect you were well named.”
She smiled, her eyes brimming over with merriment and mischief, “My, what a flirt you are, sir!”
Underwood, with his usual lack of finesse, which for some reason women found irresistible, retorted, “Good God, no! I never flirt.”
She laughed and fluttered her fan, “I stand corrected. Tell me, Mr. Underwood – I suppose I must call you that, since you are determined to be formal – why were you standing with the army? I can see by your bearing you are not a soldier.”
“I should say not. Soldiering would never be for me. However, living in a Spa town makes one used to having strange bed-fellows. One makes acquaintances one never imagined in another life.”
“Did you have ‘another life’ before Hanbury?”
“I tutored at Cambridge.”
“Ah, what a pity. My brother attends Oxford.”
“He would – if, as I imagine, you are the daughter of an Earl.”
“You are perceptive.”
“No, merely well-informed and observant. Your finger bears no wedding ring, and whilst that is not proof absolute, it suggests you are unmarried. Tell me how you came to be here. I should have thought the more fashionable watering places would have suited you better.”
“Heavens, no! I simply had to get away. I have endured two seasons under my aunt’s chaperonage, and I left her in deep despair because I will not choose between a string of suitors – but my dear Mr. Underwood, they were all such dead bores.”
“How dreadful for you,” he sympathized in a voice heavy with irony. She looked at him for a moment, then burst into giggles, “You horrible man! You are mocking me.”
“Heaven forfend! Where is your aunt now? Surely she has not allowed you out in the world alone?”
“No, unfortunately not. She has remained in London, but I have an elderly cousin to bear me company. She has gone just now to procure my water, but I warned her to take her time. She will not dare to return whilst you are beside me.”
“Then I shall speedily remove myself.”
“Please don’t.”
He raised one quizzical brow, “Why did you call me over here?”
“You looked as bored as I – and you are quite the handsomest man I have encountered in Hanbury.”
He rose to his feet, grinning unkindly, “Bored yes, handsome, no! You ought to behave yourself, Miss. Before you can blink an eye, you are going to be up to your neck in trouble.”
“Oh, I do hope so,” she replied fervently. He laughed and walked away to rejoin his friends.
*
CHAPTER SEVEN
(“In Cauda Venenum” – Watch out for the part you cannot see; literally, “In the tail is the poison”)
Observing Underwood’s grim
Underwood had never been so brazenly propositioned in his life, and he could honestly say that he never for a moment entertained the idea of being unfaithful to Verity, but there was something undeniably compelling about the young woman. With a cautious glance towards the ‘Wablers’, he ascertained they were too engrossed to take heed of his departure, so he strolled casually across the room.
“May I present myself, since there is no mutual acquaintance to perform the service? My name is Underwood.”
She held out a long, slender white hand, tipped with beautifully manicured pink nails, as delicate as tiny seashells, “How do you do, Mr. Underwood?” He took her hand and bowed over it, lifting his eyes to more closely observe her face. It was well worth observing. She was ravishing; guinea gold curls framed a physiognomy of exquisite perfection, and those eyes …
“I’m well, Miss ..?”
“Cara – Lady Cara Lovell.”
“I beg your pardon, my lady.”
“Please, it is of no consequence. I should like you to call me Cara.”
“It’s a pretty name. From the Italian – ‘dear girl’ – I suspect you were well named.”
She smiled, her eyes brimming over with merriment and mischief, “My, what a flirt you are, sir!”
Underwood, with his usual lack of finesse, which for some reason women found irresistible, retorted, “Good God, no! I never flirt.”
She laughed and fluttered her fan, “I stand corrected. Tell me, Mr. Underwood – I suppose I must call you that, since you are determined to be formal – why were you standing with the army? I can see by your bearing you are not a soldier.”
“I should say not. Soldiering would never be for me. However, living in a Spa town makes one used to having strange bed-fellows. One makes acquaintances one never imagined in another life.”
“Did you have ‘another life’ before Hanbury?”
“I tutored at Cambridge.”
“Ah, what a pity. My brother attends Oxford.”
“He would – if, as I imagine, you are the daughter of an Earl.”
“You are perceptive.”
“No, merely well-informed and observant. Your finger bears no wedding ring, and whilst that is not proof absolute, it suggests you are unmarried. Tell me how you came to be here. I should have thought the more fashionable watering places would have suited you better.”
“Heavens, no! I simply had to get away. I have endured two seasons under my aunt’s chaperonage, and I left her in deep despair because I will not choose between a string of suitors – but my dear Mr. Underwood, they were all such dead bores.”
“How dreadful for you,” he sympathized in a voice heavy with irony. She looked at him for a moment, then burst into giggles, “You horrible man! You are mocking me.”
“Heaven forfend! Where is your aunt now? Surely she has not allowed you out in the world alone?”
“No, unfortunately not. She has remained in London, but I have an elderly cousin to bear me company. She has gone just now to procure my water, but I warned her to take her time. She will not dare to return whilst you are beside me.”
“Then I shall speedily remove myself.”
“Please don’t.”
He raised one quizzical brow, “Why did you call me over here?”
“You looked as bored as I – and you are quite the handsomest man I have encountered in Hanbury.”
He rose to his feet, grinning unkindly, “Bored yes, handsome, no! You ought to behave yourself, Miss. Before you can blink an eye, you are going to be up to your neck in trouble.”
“Oh, I do hope so,” she replied fervently. He laughed and walked away to rejoin his friends.
*
CHAPTER SEVEN
(“In Cauda Venenum” – Watch out for the part you cannot see; literally, “In the tail is the poison”)
Observing Underwood’s grim
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