have wished that no one be aware of my literary efforts, but, since you have the same desire, I feel I can trust your discretion—as you will have to trust mine. Besides, it will make matters a great deal easier. As George pointed out, it will be better if we meet on a fairly regular basis, if we’re to pull this thing off.”
“Mm-mm, yes,” Tally replied, her breathing returning to normal now that the conversation had taken a more businesslike turn. “I fear there will be some difficulty, my lord. You see...”
“Do you think,” Chelmsford teased lightly, “that we could dispense with “my lord”? Since we are to be partners, and, I hope friends, perhaps we could flout propriety and leap directly to the use of our first names.”
A gasp of laughter escaped Tally.
“Very well, Jonathan. Partners and friends. Now,” she continued more soberly, “about these meetings. I don’t see how we are to see each other on a regular basis without exciting comment. Perhaps you could send our material via messenger.”
“Mm.” Jonathan frowned. “I don’t think that would work well at all. Look here, we can’t go into this right now. Would you meet me tomorrow? Early? How about a ride in the Park?”
Tally brightened.
“Oh, I’d like that! I used to ride every morning at Summerhill, and I brought my little mare, Blossom, with me to Town. Would seven be too...?”
“There you are!” A high feminine voice interrupted. The speaker was revealed as Lady Belle as she peeped into the room. She looked none too pleased to find her fiancé in a tête-á-tête with a strange female, but when, on closer inspection, the female was shown to be the newly arrived country mouse, a sparkling smile curved her lips.
“How very naughty of you, Jonathan, to hide away. I have been searching for you this hour!”
Jonathan rose and drew Clea into the room.
“But we have been here only a few minutes, love. Tally is not used to our giddy party ways and required sustenance and a place to catch her breath.”
Clea’s perfect brows lifted for an instant at the sound of the mouse’s first name on the lips of her betrothed. She cast Tally a sidelong glance.
“And have you been enjoying a giddy time, Lady Talitha?” she murmured, her tone conveying only too clearly the absurdity of such an idea.
Tally raised her chin.
“I have enjoyed the dancing, my lady.”
Clea’s smile was brittle as she turned to Jonathan. “Only see, dearest,” she cried as she opened her reticule. “I have been lucky at cards tonight!”
Jonathan’s smile was a trifle thin as he replied. “Perhaps that will offset the guineas you lost last night.”
“Oh, don’t scold, darling. You do not wish to spoil my pleasure, do you? I do enjoy my little flings at the table.”
As Tally watched uncomfortably, Clea drew close to Jonathan and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. She clasped his hand in her gloved fingers and twisted slightly, so that it seemed entirely by accident that her breasts moved tantalizingly against his arm, and his hand was drawn along the curve of her hip.
Jonathan stilled for a moment, and the response that flickered in his eyes made Tally turn her head.
As though having accomplished her purpose, Clea drew back, and, grasping Jonathan’s sleeve, began urging him toward the doorway. Jonathan hesitated.
“It will be time for the first supper soon, Tally. With whom will you go down?”
“I have been promised to Sir Geoffrey Prestwood,” she replied modestly, observing with pleasure the startled expression that crossed Clea’s face. Sir Geoffrey, a man possessed of considerable wealth and charm, was a highly eligible bachelor. That Tally owed his attention to Cat’s machinations, she had no intention of divulging to either the viscount or his fiancée.
Tally did not speak with Jonathan during the remainder of the evening, though she was intensely aware of his presence. Her eyes were drawn again and again to that thatch
“Mm-mm, yes,” Tally replied, her breathing returning to normal now that the conversation had taken a more businesslike turn. “I fear there will be some difficulty, my lord. You see...”
“Do you think,” Chelmsford teased lightly, “that we could dispense with “my lord”? Since we are to be partners, and, I hope friends, perhaps we could flout propriety and leap directly to the use of our first names.”
A gasp of laughter escaped Tally.
“Very well, Jonathan. Partners and friends. Now,” she continued more soberly, “about these meetings. I don’t see how we are to see each other on a regular basis without exciting comment. Perhaps you could send our material via messenger.”
“Mm.” Jonathan frowned. “I don’t think that would work well at all. Look here, we can’t go into this right now. Would you meet me tomorrow? Early? How about a ride in the Park?”
Tally brightened.
“Oh, I’d like that! I used to ride every morning at Summerhill, and I brought my little mare, Blossom, with me to Town. Would seven be too...?”
“There you are!” A high feminine voice interrupted. The speaker was revealed as Lady Belle as she peeped into the room. She looked none too pleased to find her fiancé in a tête-á-tête with a strange female, but when, on closer inspection, the female was shown to be the newly arrived country mouse, a sparkling smile curved her lips.
“How very naughty of you, Jonathan, to hide away. I have been searching for you this hour!”
Jonathan rose and drew Clea into the room.
“But we have been here only a few minutes, love. Tally is not used to our giddy party ways and required sustenance and a place to catch her breath.”
Clea’s perfect brows lifted for an instant at the sound of the mouse’s first name on the lips of her betrothed. She cast Tally a sidelong glance.
“And have you been enjoying a giddy time, Lady Talitha?” she murmured, her tone conveying only too clearly the absurdity of such an idea.
Tally raised her chin.
“I have enjoyed the dancing, my lady.”
Clea’s smile was brittle as she turned to Jonathan. “Only see, dearest,” she cried as she opened her reticule. “I have been lucky at cards tonight!”
Jonathan’s smile was a trifle thin as he replied. “Perhaps that will offset the guineas you lost last night.”
“Oh, don’t scold, darling. You do not wish to spoil my pleasure, do you? I do enjoy my little flings at the table.”
As Tally watched uncomfortably, Clea drew close to Jonathan and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. She clasped his hand in her gloved fingers and twisted slightly, so that it seemed entirely by accident that her breasts moved tantalizingly against his arm, and his hand was drawn along the curve of her hip.
Jonathan stilled for a moment, and the response that flickered in his eyes made Tally turn her head.
As though having accomplished her purpose, Clea drew back, and, grasping Jonathan’s sleeve, began urging him toward the doorway. Jonathan hesitated.
“It will be time for the first supper soon, Tally. With whom will you go down?”
“I have been promised to Sir Geoffrey Prestwood,” she replied modestly, observing with pleasure the startled expression that crossed Clea’s face. Sir Geoffrey, a man possessed of considerable wealth and charm, was a highly eligible bachelor. That Tally owed his attention to Cat’s machinations, she had no intention of divulging to either the viscount or his fiancée.
Tally did not speak with Jonathan during the remainder of the evening, though she was intensely aware of his presence. Her eyes were drawn again and again to that thatch
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