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Authors: Barbara Cartland
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us half an hour to go to one of the bars."
His uneasiness grew.
"I don't think you'd like the kind of people you'd meet there," he said.
Dorina gave a laugh which she hoped sounded naïve and foolish.
"But of course I shall. After all, you brought me here. I know that you wouldn't bring me anywhere unsuitable. Why don't we go now?"
She rose determinedly and began to make her way along the row of stalls. At the end she turned, so that she was facing the exit from the railed-off 'respectable' area. Once past that rail, there was no knowing what might happen.
His hand on her arm detained her.
"I think it's best if we leave," he said firmly.
"Kennington! Hey there old fellow!"
He turned in answer to a shout from a man he recognised as an old friend. In fact they had seen each other earlier at the races.
"Harris," he said, trying to sound genial yet edging away as he spoke.
"Spending your winnings, old fellow?" Harris said knowingly. "Don't blame you."
"Yes, it was a good day out," the Earl agreed, "but if you don't mind – "
But Harris, a large, moustachioed man, was impervious to hints.
"Very attractive filly of yours. Went like the wind. So now you're celebrating with another little filly, eh? Very nice too."
The Earl's voice became frozen.
"She is a lady – "
"Of course she is. They always are old boy, until you've spent enough."
Appalled the Earl turned to see if Dorina could hear any of this.
But she was not there.
The chance to slip away had been too good to lose. In seconds Dorina was lost in the crowd, seizing the chance to look around her.
At first glance the revelry was simply bright and cheerful. Here was a bar and just along there was another one, piled high with brightly coloured bottles.
All around her were young women dressed almost as well as herself. Their gowns were fashionable and elegantly decorated. They seemed confident and assured, making eyes at the men and laughing with them, seemingly on equal terms. These were women of independence.
But a closer look revealed the tense looks in their eyes. It was imperative to them to attract the attention of men with money to spend. That was how they survived.
What saddened Dorina most was the fact that not all of them were openly vulgar. Some looked as though they might have been ladies, who knew about fine living and elegant manners.
Someone collided with her. Two big hands seized her bare arms to steady her and a tipsy voice said,
"Not to worry, my dear. I've got you safe."
"Let me go," she said, trying to pull away.
But the hands held her tightly.
"All in good time. After all, you bumped into me."
"That was an accident," she protested.
"Oh, I don't think so. There's accidents and accidents, and I know the difference. You chose me, and you made a good choice. See this?"
He removed one hand and pointed to a glittering bauble on the front of his shirt.
"Real diamonds," he said. "But of course you knew that."
In fact a quick glance had been enough to tell Dorina that the diamonds were fake. She wondered how many women he had fooled that way. Or was he fooled himself?
"Now, why don't we go and enjoy ourselves?" he sniggered, breathing whisky fumes all over her.
With a huge effort Dorina put her hands on his chest and gave an almighty shove, strong enough to send him backwards. When he tried to lunge towards her again she turned on him, eyes glittering and finger pointing.
"Don't," she hissed.
He backed off at once, alarmed by something he had seen in her eyes. He could not have said exactly what, but he felt mysteriously afraid.
Dorina tried to hurry away from him, but in the tightly packed crowd she could not move far, and she was able to overhear a conversation between two other men who had witnessed the little scene and enjoyed it.
"You can't blame him for trying," one observed. "But he lacks the style to lure a really prime article."
"And she certainly is a prime article," the other one agreed.
"She might almost be a lady,"
His uneasiness grew.
"I don't think you'd like the kind of people you'd meet there," he said.
Dorina gave a laugh which she hoped sounded naïve and foolish.
"But of course I shall. After all, you brought me here. I know that you wouldn't bring me anywhere unsuitable. Why don't we go now?"
She rose determinedly and began to make her way along the row of stalls. At the end she turned, so that she was facing the exit from the railed-off 'respectable' area. Once past that rail, there was no knowing what might happen.
His hand on her arm detained her.
"I think it's best if we leave," he said firmly.
"Kennington! Hey there old fellow!"
He turned in answer to a shout from a man he recognised as an old friend. In fact they had seen each other earlier at the races.
"Harris," he said, trying to sound genial yet edging away as he spoke.
"Spending your winnings, old fellow?" Harris said knowingly. "Don't blame you."
"Yes, it was a good day out," the Earl agreed, "but if you don't mind – "
But Harris, a large, moustachioed man, was impervious to hints.
"Very attractive filly of yours. Went like the wind. So now you're celebrating with another little filly, eh? Very nice too."
The Earl's voice became frozen.
"She is a lady – "
"Of course she is. They always are old boy, until you've spent enough."
Appalled the Earl turned to see if Dorina could hear any of this.
But she was not there.
The chance to slip away had been too good to lose. In seconds Dorina was lost in the crowd, seizing the chance to look around her.
At first glance the revelry was simply bright and cheerful. Here was a bar and just along there was another one, piled high with brightly coloured bottles.
All around her were young women dressed almost as well as herself. Their gowns were fashionable and elegantly decorated. They seemed confident and assured, making eyes at the men and laughing with them, seemingly on equal terms. These were women of independence.
But a closer look revealed the tense looks in their eyes. It was imperative to them to attract the attention of men with money to spend. That was how they survived.
What saddened Dorina most was the fact that not all of them were openly vulgar. Some looked as though they might have been ladies, who knew about fine living and elegant manners.
Someone collided with her. Two big hands seized her bare arms to steady her and a tipsy voice said,
"Not to worry, my dear. I've got you safe."
"Let me go," she said, trying to pull away.
But the hands held her tightly.
"All in good time. After all, you bumped into me."
"That was an accident," she protested.
"Oh, I don't think so. There's accidents and accidents, and I know the difference. You chose me, and you made a good choice. See this?"
He removed one hand and pointed to a glittering bauble on the front of his shirt.
"Real diamonds," he said. "But of course you knew that."
In fact a quick glance had been enough to tell Dorina that the diamonds were fake. She wondered how many women he had fooled that way. Or was he fooled himself?
"Now, why don't we go and enjoy ourselves?" he sniggered, breathing whisky fumes all over her.
With a huge effort Dorina put her hands on his chest and gave an almighty shove, strong enough to send him backwards. When he tried to lunge towards her again she turned on him, eyes glittering and finger pointing.
"Don't," she hissed.
He backed off at once, alarmed by something he had seen in her eyes. He could not have said exactly what, but he felt mysteriously afraid.
Dorina tried to hurry away from him, but in the tightly packed crowd she could not move far, and she was able to overhear a conversation between two other men who had witnessed the little scene and enjoyed it.
"You can't blame him for trying," one observed. "But he lacks the style to lure a really prime article."
"And she certainly is a prime article," the other one agreed.
"She might almost be a lady,"
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