within view was the Earl of Winbourne himself. A man of fashion, birth and wealth, as Lorelei learned from Maria Dunn’s incessant chatter.
He was often surrounded by a band of fellow Corinthians and ardent admirers: young gentlemen barely out of university, hanging eagerly onto his every word and doing their best to copy his elegant dress. In Lorelei’s opinion, none had quite succeeded.
It was not her fault in the least that she spent so much time watching him – one could hardly help it if he was always near-by. Or so she told herself every time she caught her eyes lingering on his strong jawline or alluring mouth.
Lorelei had learned to reco gnise his mood by the smile with which he chose to grace his current companions. Most often, there was the unmoved, indolent expression with which he gave his harshest set-downs. The sardonic little twist of the lips was always complemented by the unmistakable mockery in the eyes, and it was very rarely that a genuine smile of enjoyment could be glimpsed.
His cultured voice was usually full of a world-weariness which Lorelei thought she would find extremely infuriating were he to direct it at her. She half-wished that he would, simply so that she might have the pleasure of giving him a set-down, but he never did.
His constant presence was thoroughly irritating. Lorelei saw the Earl of Winbourne frequently about town, at the orangerie , the park and at what had to be a thousand dinner parties and musicales. He rarely spoke to her, but when he did, there was always something she could not name in the nuances of his voice. The knowing sparkle in his usually cool green eyes was enough to make her itch to be uncivil even as it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
Lorelei had been successfully ignoring him for some twenty minutes when he unceremoniously joined a conversation about the emerald necklace worn by Princess Charlotte at a concert the previous afternoon, and stood for an entire two minutes with barely a glance at Lorelei before interjecting his opinion.
“For my part, I thought it much t oo heavy and not at all the thing,” he said, in that drawling tone, calculated to perfection. “Such things are not well suited to the daytime, even if one should occasion to be going to a concert. Miss Lindon, I see you show a marked favour for very subtle jewellery. I believe I once glimpsed you wearing a very charming moonstone pendant. Surely you would agree?”
Her eyes flew to his and she knew he was baiting her. She wondered if he still had her pendant hidden somewhere about his person. Winbourne thoroughly enjoyed the way her large expressive eyes flashed at him.
S he replied in a carefully remote tone, assuring the earl that her taste in fashion could not compare to his, and so she was obliged to defer to his opinion of such things. As soon as she was able, Lorelei took leave of the group, only to feel his eyes raking her form as she made her way over to where Lady Hurst sat with the matrons.
Winbourne continued in this insufferable manner – with little hints and taunts. Soon, Lorelei began to feel an inkling of suspicion that, whatever game he was playing, it had to do with much more than just the pendant. However, she could not for the life of her begin to guess what that game might be.
She suspected that he found her amusing, perhaps because she was a novelty in his world of weary repartee, cravats and toad-eaters. This, however, only served to anger her further, as she was quite sure that the man was toying with her.
*
On Wednesday afternoon, during the Promenade hour, when the crème de la crème of Society could be seen strolling and driving about Hyde Park, Lorelei carefully straightened the pleats on her powder-blue walking gown. The colour suited her complexion remarkably well, and the bright green feather that curled daringly over the poke of her little bonnet brought out the emerald in her eyes.
She was expecting Lady Gilmont and Julia to call so that
He was often surrounded by a band of fellow Corinthians and ardent admirers: young gentlemen barely out of university, hanging eagerly onto his every word and doing their best to copy his elegant dress. In Lorelei’s opinion, none had quite succeeded.
It was not her fault in the least that she spent so much time watching him – one could hardly help it if he was always near-by. Or so she told herself every time she caught her eyes lingering on his strong jawline or alluring mouth.
Lorelei had learned to reco gnise his mood by the smile with which he chose to grace his current companions. Most often, there was the unmoved, indolent expression with which he gave his harshest set-downs. The sardonic little twist of the lips was always complemented by the unmistakable mockery in the eyes, and it was very rarely that a genuine smile of enjoyment could be glimpsed.
His cultured voice was usually full of a world-weariness which Lorelei thought she would find extremely infuriating were he to direct it at her. She half-wished that he would, simply so that she might have the pleasure of giving him a set-down, but he never did.
His constant presence was thoroughly irritating. Lorelei saw the Earl of Winbourne frequently about town, at the orangerie , the park and at what had to be a thousand dinner parties and musicales. He rarely spoke to her, but when he did, there was always something she could not name in the nuances of his voice. The knowing sparkle in his usually cool green eyes was enough to make her itch to be uncivil even as it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
Lorelei had been successfully ignoring him for some twenty minutes when he unceremoniously joined a conversation about the emerald necklace worn by Princess Charlotte at a concert the previous afternoon, and stood for an entire two minutes with barely a glance at Lorelei before interjecting his opinion.
“For my part, I thought it much t oo heavy and not at all the thing,” he said, in that drawling tone, calculated to perfection. “Such things are not well suited to the daytime, even if one should occasion to be going to a concert. Miss Lindon, I see you show a marked favour for very subtle jewellery. I believe I once glimpsed you wearing a very charming moonstone pendant. Surely you would agree?”
Her eyes flew to his and she knew he was baiting her. She wondered if he still had her pendant hidden somewhere about his person. Winbourne thoroughly enjoyed the way her large expressive eyes flashed at him.
S he replied in a carefully remote tone, assuring the earl that her taste in fashion could not compare to his, and so she was obliged to defer to his opinion of such things. As soon as she was able, Lorelei took leave of the group, only to feel his eyes raking her form as she made her way over to where Lady Hurst sat with the matrons.
Winbourne continued in this insufferable manner – with little hints and taunts. Soon, Lorelei began to feel an inkling of suspicion that, whatever game he was playing, it had to do with much more than just the pendant. However, she could not for the life of her begin to guess what that game might be.
She suspected that he found her amusing, perhaps because she was a novelty in his world of weary repartee, cravats and toad-eaters. This, however, only served to anger her further, as she was quite sure that the man was toying with her.
*
On Wednesday afternoon, during the Promenade hour, when the crème de la crème of Society could be seen strolling and driving about Hyde Park, Lorelei carefully straightened the pleats on her powder-blue walking gown. The colour suited her complexion remarkably well, and the bright green feather that curled daringly over the poke of her little bonnet brought out the emerald in her eyes.
She was expecting Lady Gilmont and Julia to call so that
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