Cater Street Hangman Read Online Free PDF Page B

young man with an elegant and weary air.
    It was half an hour, and several dances later, before young Decker returned—much to Emily’s dismay, until she saw that he brought with him quite the handsomest man she had seen in a year. He was of no more than average height, but his brown hair curled richly to his head, his colour was excellent, his features regular, his eyes large, and above all he carried with him an air of assurance that was beauty in itself.
    “Miss Emily Ellison,” young Decker bowed very slightly, “may I present to you Lord George Ashworth.”
    Emily held out her hand and curtsied, eyes down to hide the colour of excitement she felt climbing up her cheeks. Really, she must behave as if she met lords every day, and cared not a whit.
    He spoke to her; she hardly heard the words. She replied gracefully.
    The conversation was formal, a little stilted, but it hardly mattered. Decker was an ass—she needed only half her attention to maintain a subject with him—but Ashworth was entirely different. She could feel his eyes on her, and it was both dangerous and exciting. He was a man who would reach boldly for what he wanted. There might be finesse, but there would be no fumbling, no diffidence. It brought her a tingle of fear to know that she was, at this moment, the object of his interest.
    She danced with him twice within the next hour. He was not indiscreet. Twice was enough; more would have drawn attention, perhaps Papa’s, which could spoil everything.
    She saw Papa across the room, dancing with Sarah, and Mama trying to avoid the very open admiration of Colonel Decker, without at the same time offending him, or allowing the situation to arouse the jealousy of others. At a different time, Emily would have watched for the education it would have given her. Now she had business of her own that required all her wits.
    She was standing talking to one of the Misses Madison, but she was conscious of Lord Ashworth’s eyes on her from across the room. She must stand straight. A bent back was most unbecoming, made an ugly bustline, and did little for the chin. She must smile, but not seem to be vacuous, and move her hands prettily. She never forgot how ugly hands could spoil an otherwise graceful woman, having seen it all too disastrously demonstrated by the other of the Misses Madison, to the total loss of a promising admirer. That was something Sarah had never quite mastered and Charlotte had, which was odder still. Charlotte was so awkward with her tongue, but she had such beautiful hands. She was dancing now with Dominic, her face lifted, her eyes glowing. Really, sometimes Emily doubted she had the sense she was born with! There was nothing to be gained from Dominic. He had no friends of value, and certainly no relations. True, he was comfortably enough placed himself, but that was of no consequence to Charlotte. Only a fool travelled a road that led nowhere. Still, you could not tell some people!
    By midnight Emily had danced with George Ashworth another two times, but nothing had been said about a further meeting, or about his calling on her. She was beginning to fear she had not been as successful as she had at first presumed. Papa would soon decide it was time to go home. She must do something within the next few minutes, or perhaps lose her chance, and that would be appalling. She could not lose so soon the first lord she had spoken to familiarly, quite the handsomest man; and, even more to her liking, a man of wit and boldness.
    She excused herself from Lucy Sandelson on the pretext of being rather warm, and made her way towards the conservatory. It would doubtless be far too cold in there, but what was a little discomfort in the pursuit of such advance?
    She had waited five minutes, which seemed like fifty, when at last she heard footsteps. She did not turn, pretending to be absorbed in the contemplation of an azalea.
    “I hoped you would not have grown cold and returned to the ballroom before I