An Affair Without End Read Online Free PDF Page B

Stewkesbury dancing with Lady Jersey. Well, chatting was not quite right—Alfred Bellard had been telling her a long and uninteresting story of his chance meeting with an old chum from school, which was precisely why she had been glancing about the room and caught sight of Oliver.
    She could hardly tell the man that not only had her smile not been for him but that she hadn’t heard what he had said for the past few minutes. Fortunately, Vivian had been deflecting the hopes of young men for some years, and she had grown adept at it. With a snap she unfurled her fan and raised it, glancing across it flirtatiously.
    “Now, sir, you know I cannot tell you that. Perhaps I was merely thinking of something else.”
    He raised his hand to his heart, as accustomed as she to this meaningless social back-and-forth. “You are most unkind, my lady. Pray give me some small crumb of your favor.”
    “As if you desire even a crumb of my favor,” Vivian retorted. “When I saw myself that your eyes were all for Miss Charleford this evening.” She had seen him talking to Sally Charleford not too long before, and there was no harm in redirecting his interest that way.
    “Untrue, untrue,” he said, but she could almost see the wheels turning as he contemplated this display of interest on his part—and whether he liked the girl more than he had realized.
    Vivian let out a little laugh and made another light remark, then deftly removed herself from the conversation. She made her way through the crowd, giving a smile or a nod when someone managed to catch her eye. It occurred to her that perhaps she was more tired from her trip than she had realized. Perhaps she should simply go home and get a good night’s sleep. She would need all her energy when the Season got into full swing.
    Vivian began her good-byes, making sure to take her leave of Charlotte and the hostess, and strolled out into the foyer to get her cloak from the footman. As she turned to allow the servant to lay the cloak over her shoulders, she saw the Earl of Stewkesbury walking toward her.
    She could not hold back a giggle when Oliver hesitated,his face a mingling of surprise and apprehension. “No, there’s no need to avoid me,” she told him. “I shall not bite, I assure you.”
    Stewkesbury smiled, faintly abashed. “It takes a man of sterner mettle than I to face a lady’s wrath.”
    “My wrath has completely dissipated. Did you not know that your words leave my head almost as soon as they enter?”
    He let out a little huff of laughter. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you, my lady?”
    “I find it’s generally more fun,” Vivian agreed. “Come, Stewkesbury, let us cease our warfare. I scarce remember what we tussled about, as is usually the case.”
    “Of course.” He gestured toward the footman and waited for the man to bring his greatcoat and hat. “In the spirit of reconciliation, I hope you will allow me to see you to your carriage.”
    “That is kind of you.” Vivian knew that her coachman would be waiting for her nearby, watching for her emergence from the house. But men always liked to think that a lady could not make her way without assistance, and allowing Stewkesbury to help her would aid in smoothing over any hard feelings left from their contentious waltz.
    So when the earl shrugged on his coat, a rather subdued garment sporting only one shoulder cape, she put her hand on his arm and walked with him out the front door. They paused, glancing around for Vivian’s carriage. Just as Vivian spotted her trim vehicle, a shriek pierced the night.
    Vivian jumped, startled, and beside her the earl was thrown so off-balance that he let out a low oath.
    “Crimey!” the footman standing at the base of the steps exclaimed, in his excitement sinking back into the Cockney accent of his youth.
    All three of them, as well as most of the coachmen in the area, swung to look in the direction of the scream. Ashort distance up the sidewalk, a