Read Online It Happened One Midnight (PG8) by Julie Anne Long - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Anne Long
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conversation.”
Tommy sent Jonathan a sharp, unreadable, narrow-eyed glance.
Then turned a brightly expectant gaze on Argosy.
“Of the ones I may properly discuss in a public gathering,” he began, and she nodded, acknowledging the hint of suggestiveness, like a schoolteacher with a clever pupil—“I’m a very fine dancer. I handle the ribbons of my high flyer as if I were Apollo bringing the sunrise to the world. I excel at anticipating a woman’s needs. I can carry on a conversation about many topics, if not investing, when I’m not competing for your attention with a dozen other men. When I compete, I fear I tend to speak in hyperbole.”
Argosy looked mollified when Tommy laughed. She gestured with the empty champagne flute she was holding. “Can you anticipate the need I have now, Lord Argosy?”
“Your wish is my command.” Argosy bowed low and whimsically and immediately went in search of champagne for her.
Not, however, without trailing a suspicious warning look back at Jonathan.
“Meet me at midnight tonight in Covent Garden outside the Half Moon Theater,” she said immediately to Jonathan, on a hush.
“ What? No.”
“It’s not what you think, Mr. Redmond.”
He aimed a look skyward. “Dear God, tell me you didn’t just say that again. No. I’ve no interest in the affairs of complicated, circumspect, ginger-haired women. No.”
“And you know very well I’ve no interest in the affairs of currently penniless rakes.”
Well.
“I ought to say ‘ouch,’ ” he said gingerly.
“You would, but you don’t care what I think any more than I care what you think. Since we share a particular interest, I do however think you’ll be interested in a business proposition I’d like to share with you.”
“And every grain of sense I possess tells me I’d be wise to pretend I never heard you say that.”
“How many grains of sense do you possess?”
“Let me see . . . three grains, at last count. I used to have four, but I forfeited one when I agreed to accompany Argosy to this salon. Again.”
“That’s such a shame! Three grains is one fewer than you need to prevent you from a trip to the Half Moon Theater at midnight.”
Jonathan laughed. He couldn’t help it.
If the two of them laughed again the whole of the place would likely call him out, such was the delicate tension she’d built with her strategically allotted attention and strategically low-cut bodice. And here she was, of course, talking to the one person who genuinely didn’t care whether she talked to him or not, much the way a cat could pick out the one person in a room who loathed cats.
“Come now, Mr. Redmond,” she urged, her voice lowered. “What else are you going to do with your time? It’s not like you’ll head to the gaming tables, not if you’ve sense, and from what I understand you have three entire grains of the stuff. You’ve been deprived of your allowance, and correct me if I have it wrong, but your father isn’t the sort to cheerfully pay your vowels should you play without funds. So meet me at midnight outside the Half Moon Theater. You’ll hear something of interest. Oh—and bring your pistol.”
And with that she pivoted and aimed the full radiant beam of her attention at Argosy, who’d returned, champagne in hand, with the air of a warrior bearing the head of his queen’s enemy.
“Lord Argosy,” she greeted him delightedly. “How impossible it is to resist a man who sees to my needs.”
Just like that, she threw what amounted to a net woven of sunshine and jewels over Argosy. He basked, captivated, his envy of Jonathan forgotten, and in a few short minutes he was convinced he was her favorite, simply by the quality of her attention. She was charming, Jonathan observed. Effortlessly charming, it seemed. She enjoyed charming. That much was clear.
It was also all a show, that much was also clear—to Jonathan, at least. But it was a show he appreciated, as long as he could remain
Tommy sent Jonathan a sharp, unreadable, narrow-eyed glance.
Then turned a brightly expectant gaze on Argosy.
“Of the ones I may properly discuss in a public gathering,” he began, and she nodded, acknowledging the hint of suggestiveness, like a schoolteacher with a clever pupil—“I’m a very fine dancer. I handle the ribbons of my high flyer as if I were Apollo bringing the sunrise to the world. I excel at anticipating a woman’s needs. I can carry on a conversation about many topics, if not investing, when I’m not competing for your attention with a dozen other men. When I compete, I fear I tend to speak in hyperbole.”
Argosy looked mollified when Tommy laughed. She gestured with the empty champagne flute she was holding. “Can you anticipate the need I have now, Lord Argosy?”
“Your wish is my command.” Argosy bowed low and whimsically and immediately went in search of champagne for her.
Not, however, without trailing a suspicious warning look back at Jonathan.
“Meet me at midnight tonight in Covent Garden outside the Half Moon Theater,” she said immediately to Jonathan, on a hush.
“ What? No.”
“It’s not what you think, Mr. Redmond.”
He aimed a look skyward. “Dear God, tell me you didn’t just say that again. No. I’ve no interest in the affairs of complicated, circumspect, ginger-haired women. No.”
“And you know very well I’ve no interest in the affairs of currently penniless rakes.”
Well.
“I ought to say ‘ouch,’ ” he said gingerly.
“You would, but you don’t care what I think any more than I care what you think. Since we share a particular interest, I do however think you’ll be interested in a business proposition I’d like to share with you.”
“And every grain of sense I possess tells me I’d be wise to pretend I never heard you say that.”
“How many grains of sense do you possess?”
“Let me see . . . three grains, at last count. I used to have four, but I forfeited one when I agreed to accompany Argosy to this salon. Again.”
“That’s such a shame! Three grains is one fewer than you need to prevent you from a trip to the Half Moon Theater at midnight.”
Jonathan laughed. He couldn’t help it.
If the two of them laughed again the whole of the place would likely call him out, such was the delicate tension she’d built with her strategically allotted attention and strategically low-cut bodice. And here she was, of course, talking to the one person who genuinely didn’t care whether she talked to him or not, much the way a cat could pick out the one person in a room who loathed cats.
“Come now, Mr. Redmond,” she urged, her voice lowered. “What else are you going to do with your time? It’s not like you’ll head to the gaming tables, not if you’ve sense, and from what I understand you have three entire grains of the stuff. You’ve been deprived of your allowance, and correct me if I have it wrong, but your father isn’t the sort to cheerfully pay your vowels should you play without funds. So meet me at midnight outside the Half Moon Theater. You’ll hear something of interest. Oh—and bring your pistol.”
And with that she pivoted and aimed the full radiant beam of her attention at Argosy, who’d returned, champagne in hand, with the air of a warrior bearing the head of his queen’s enemy.
“Lord Argosy,” she greeted him delightedly. “How impossible it is to resist a man who sees to my needs.”
Just like that, she threw what amounted to a net woven of sunshine and jewels over Argosy. He basked, captivated, his envy of Jonathan forgotten, and in a few short minutes he was convinced he was her favorite, simply by the quality of her attention. She was charming, Jonathan observed. Effortlessly charming, it seemed. She enjoyed charming. That much was clear.
It was also all a show, that much was also clear—to Jonathan, at least. But it was a show he appreciated, as long as he could remain
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