Read Online My Pleasure by Connie Brockway - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Connie Brockway
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Saturday afternoons and—”
“Miss Nash, I fear the conversation grows tedious for you,” DeMarc’s cold voice cut across Jolly’s.
Helena regarded him with irritation. She’d wanted to hear what Jolly knew of Ramsey Munro.
“You can hardly know the people of whom Miss Jolly speaks, and I doubt your circle of acquaintances overlaps with Mrs. Winebarger’s.” He held out his hand. “I am sure you will like to show me Lady Tilpot’s collection of etchings, eh?”
Without being inexcusably rude, there was nothing she could do but rise and take his arm. He escorted her to the other side of the room, where Lady Tilpot had arranged a portfolio of etchings for her guests’ viewing.
He did not even pretend to look at them. “There. Now you have my complete attention. That ought to please you.”
Helena blinked, uncertain whether or not she had heard him correctly. “Sir?”
“I am sorry you were subjected to that woman.”
Once more Helena regarded him, startled. Was he going to champion Charlotte against Lady Tilpot? Perhaps she had misjudged—
“The Prussians are universally acknowledged to be coarse, and that Milar creature.” He shuddered delicately.
No. He would not be championing her.
She struggled to find a rejoinder, but it was impossible. She could hardly dispute him by saying the conversation was not low, and she could scarcely agree. So she said nothing. And she hated saying nothing. Just as she had hated being unable to defend Charlotte to Lady Tilpot. But she would do what was necessary, at least for now, in order to find a happy ending for the star-crossed lovers.
“You bear your state with laudable patience, Miss Nash,” he murmured fondly.
Apparently, the role of silent sufferer was one DeMarc found admirable. The man probably liked his dogs cringing, too. Helena lowered her eyes so he would not see her ire. “Sir.”
“You little minx. Look at me. No one is watching us. You’ve been discreet.” Her head snapped up. He smiled. “But not too discreet. I have noted your interest. Others have, too. I see how you look at me. I see your smile.”
Amazement turned to dismay.
“My only question now is, what to do about it?”
No. Oh, no. She couldn’t afford to hurt his feelings. A man like Forrester DeMarc would take any rejection poorly. But she could not encourage him, either, and not only because she had no desire whatsoever to do so. If Lady Tilpot suspected Helena of using her soirees for Flora to attract men for herself, she would dismiss Helena at once.
She couldn’t leave Flora. Not now. Not yet. She racked her brain looking for some suitable response.
“Too kind,” she finally murmured.
“Miss Nash!” Lady Tilpot’s peremptory call unfurled across the room like a lash, and for once Helena felt only gratitude for that petulant, demanding bark. “Stop monopolizing Lord DeMarc and come here.”
Without a backward glance, Helena obeyed.
SIX
PREPARATION:
a nonthreatening action intended to create the opening for the initial phase of an attack
THE AFTERNOON SHADOWS had lengthened into long mauve streaks when Helena placed the shillings in the Vauxhall Garden attendant’s hand. This time she did not keep her eyes lowered behind her black silk mask. Last week’s experience, rather than discouraging her, had given her confidence. The excitement of the other attendees was contagious, their faces smiling and their laughter spicing the air.
A ragamuffin girl standing just inside the gate pressed a violet nosegay into Helena’s hand and then, tilting her tough little face up, inspected her thoroughly before saying, “I don’t know rightly if yer a man or a woman, but either way that’ll be tuppence.”
“Give me the flowers for a penny, and I will reveal my secrets,” Helena said, teasing the child.
Without preamble, the girl snorted. “I ain’t that interested. Besides which, me ma told me as how if anyone ever says anytin’ about revealin’ anytin’ to
“Miss Nash, I fear the conversation grows tedious for you,” DeMarc’s cold voice cut across Jolly’s.
Helena regarded him with irritation. She’d wanted to hear what Jolly knew of Ramsey Munro.
“You can hardly know the people of whom Miss Jolly speaks, and I doubt your circle of acquaintances overlaps with Mrs. Winebarger’s.” He held out his hand. “I am sure you will like to show me Lady Tilpot’s collection of etchings, eh?”
Without being inexcusably rude, there was nothing she could do but rise and take his arm. He escorted her to the other side of the room, where Lady Tilpot had arranged a portfolio of etchings for her guests’ viewing.
He did not even pretend to look at them. “There. Now you have my complete attention. That ought to please you.”
Helena blinked, uncertain whether or not she had heard him correctly. “Sir?”
“I am sorry you were subjected to that woman.”
Once more Helena regarded him, startled. Was he going to champion Charlotte against Lady Tilpot? Perhaps she had misjudged—
“The Prussians are universally acknowledged to be coarse, and that Milar creature.” He shuddered delicately.
No. He would not be championing her.
She struggled to find a rejoinder, but it was impossible. She could hardly dispute him by saying the conversation was not low, and she could scarcely agree. So she said nothing. And she hated saying nothing. Just as she had hated being unable to defend Charlotte to Lady Tilpot. But she would do what was necessary, at least for now, in order to find a happy ending for the star-crossed lovers.
“You bear your state with laudable patience, Miss Nash,” he murmured fondly.
Apparently, the role of silent sufferer was one DeMarc found admirable. The man probably liked his dogs cringing, too. Helena lowered her eyes so he would not see her ire. “Sir.”
“You little minx. Look at me. No one is watching us. You’ve been discreet.” Her head snapped up. He smiled. “But not too discreet. I have noted your interest. Others have, too. I see how you look at me. I see your smile.”
Amazement turned to dismay.
“My only question now is, what to do about it?”
No. Oh, no. She couldn’t afford to hurt his feelings. A man like Forrester DeMarc would take any rejection poorly. But she could not encourage him, either, and not only because she had no desire whatsoever to do so. If Lady Tilpot suspected Helena of using her soirees for Flora to attract men for herself, she would dismiss Helena at once.
She couldn’t leave Flora. Not now. Not yet. She racked her brain looking for some suitable response.
“Too kind,” she finally murmured.
“Miss Nash!” Lady Tilpot’s peremptory call unfurled across the room like a lash, and for once Helena felt only gratitude for that petulant, demanding bark. “Stop monopolizing Lord DeMarc and come here.”
Without a backward glance, Helena obeyed.
SIX
PREPARATION:
a nonthreatening action intended to create the opening for the initial phase of an attack
THE AFTERNOON SHADOWS had lengthened into long mauve streaks when Helena placed the shillings in the Vauxhall Garden attendant’s hand. This time she did not keep her eyes lowered behind her black silk mask. Last week’s experience, rather than discouraging her, had given her confidence. The excitement of the other attendees was contagious, their faces smiling and their laughter spicing the air.
A ragamuffin girl standing just inside the gate pressed a violet nosegay into Helena’s hand and then, tilting her tough little face up, inspected her thoroughly before saying, “I don’t know rightly if yer a man or a woman, but either way that’ll be tuppence.”
“Give me the flowers for a penny, and I will reveal my secrets,” Helena said, teasing the child.
Without preamble, the girl snorted. “I ain’t that interested. Besides which, me ma told me as how if anyone ever says anytin’ about revealin’ anytin’ to
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