Mistress at Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page B

or making empty promises.
    As his uncle joined them, the old man’s hand reached down to extract a large handkerchief to wipe his shining brow. Alfred Hawkhurst’s eyes were more opaque than she remembered them to be and he had a wheeze that was concerning.
    ‘They don’t want me there, Stephen. They never do. I can feel it when I speak to people.’ His thin voice shook—a man who had had enough of the lofty world surrounding him.
    ‘I feel exactly the same, Lord Alfred,’ Aurelia began as his nephew failed to speak, ‘though I find that the wine is helping.’ She took two glasses from a passing waiter and handed one to him. Alfred smiled and downed the lot before leaning forwards in a conspiratorial way.
    ‘You were always a favourite, my dear, and I am glad that you do not seem so melancholy now. I used to worry for you when Charles was about.’
    Embarrassment swept through Aurelia’s whole body. A thousand lies and yet an old man, reportedly mad, had seen through the lot of them. Like her father had. Catching the golden glance of Lord Hawkhurst, she looked away.
    She had changed. She had grown up. No one could ever make her so sad again. The silk of Leonora’s dress swirled cornflower blue in the middle of the floor, the weave of silver within it catching the light.
    Macclesfield silk. Her lifeblood.
    ‘I am more than content, Lord Alfred.’ And quite competent, too, she thought. Dancing, needlework, luncheons and music—the pursuits of a well-brought-up young lady had long ceased to be a part of her domain. She tried hard to smile. She fitted nowhere now, like Alfred, lost in the middle somehow, an eternal outsider, looking in but never belonging. Not even knowing how to.
    Her fingers strayed to the pendant at her throat, clutching The single diamond until she saw Lord Hawkhurst’s eye upon the piece. Why had she worn it? The kiss at Taylor’s Gap hung in the air between them in the particular manner of something unfinished. She could see the shape of it in his eyes and in the way he stood, his shoulders rigid with the tension of memory.
    ‘I have always loved jewellery.’ Alfred’s proclamation was welcomed for it broke the unease, his outstretched hand touching the piece. ‘What would you wish to be paid for this, my dear? Is it for sale?’
    Hawkhurst carefully moved him back. ‘Mrs St Harlow holds the bauble in much esteem and would part with it only under the most extreme of circumstances, Alfred.’
    ‘She told you of that?’
    ‘Indeed she did.’ Shadows moved across his face, the planes at his cheeks softer now, and her body recalled the feel of Lord Hawkhurst’s skin beneath her fingers, warm and solid, lips slanting deep with the taste of safety.
    Aurelia shook her head. Such dreams were not ones she could contemplate again. Besides, had not Cassandra Lindsay stressed the need of a suitable bride at Atherton?
    The black bombazine covering her from neck to foot was synonymous with the sort of life she led. Secretive. Careful. Lonely. In bed well after midnight and up well before the dawn.
    When Elizabeth Berkeley came back to the circle Aurelia excused herself and wound her way to the ladies’ room, where she sat for a good three-quarters of an hour on a chair in the small salon, completely impervious to the stares of others who were also using the chamber.
    Another twenty minutes and she could be gone.
    Hawk felt Elizabeth’s fingers entwined in the fabric of his sleeve. He wished he might have shaken her off and followed Aurelia StHarlow to wherever it was she had gone at least half an hour ago, but appearances had to be maintained and he was always careful in this respect.
    Cassie Lindsay watched him vigilantly, too, as she had done for months now, her eyes upon him filled with question. She had made it known that she had asked Mrs St Harlow and her sister to their country seat of St Auburn’s in a few weeks’ time and that the invitation had been accepted.
    The evening was going