The Dangerous Mr. Ryder

‘Eva!’ It was Bel, tugging her arm. That hurt; she remembered vaguely Jack gripping her just there, a hundred years ago. ‘Come and sit down.’ She steered Eva to a chair in an alcove. ‘What happened?’

Eva could only shake her head, dumbly. Words seemed to have deserted her. ‘You need a drink.’ Bel looked around her. ‘Why is there never a waiter when you need one? Theo! Yes, I know it is you, no one else in London is that tall with auburn hair, you numbskull. I need two glasses of champagne, at once. And a glass of brandy. Shoo!’ She pushed the indignant young man off into the throng. ‘My scapegrace cousin Theo,’ she explained. ‘Did he say no?’

Eva nodded.

‘Why? Why on earth would he say no?’

‘Because he does not love me, I suppose. Because I made a mull of it, because he does not want to end up as an adjunct to his wife in a foreign court.’

‘You told him you love him? No?’ Eva shook her head. A whisper he could not hear did not count. ‘Why ever not?’

‘Because I thought he realised that was why I was asking him, and then he told me he did not love me, so what was the point?’

‘He told you?’ Bel stared at her. ‘In so many words? He actually said I do not love you?’

‘He had told me he would not marry me and then he said his answer would be the same whether or not he loved me. I think.’ She shook her head, too stunned by the whole experience to trust her memory any more. The young man—Theo, was it?—came back with a waiter at his heels. Bel took a brandy glass, pressed it into Eva’s hands and then scooped the two champagne flutes off the tray. ‘Thank you, Theo.’

She waited until her cousin had retreated, then said, ‘Drink it!’ Eva tossed back the brandy, reckless now for something to take the edge off the pain, while Bel took a reviving drink of champagne, then removed the empty brandy glass and substituted the other flute for it. ‘I will be drunk,’ Eva protested.

‘Good. I’d get tipsy and then go home if I were you, there isn’t any purpose in waiting here for the unmasking, you’ll only be miserable.’ Bel sipped her drink, brooding. ‘He may well think better of it in the morning,’ she offered at length.

‘I doubt it. I hit him.’

‘Good.’

They brooded some more, the brandy and wine burning dully through Eva’s veins. She recalled the last time she had been tipsy—a most infrequent happening in her well-regulated life. That had been with Jack in the inn and she had been utterly indiscreet. She felt more than indiscreet now, she felt desperate for action, to get away, not stay trapped here in this foreign country, miles from home.

‘There’s Lord Gowering,’ Bel observed. ‘See, in the red-sequined mask with one shoulder higher than the other. He directs all the agents in the Foreign Office, though you wouldn’t think he was a spymaster to look at him. I have half a mind to go and tell him he should sack my brother for not taking care of you.’

The tall, stooping man was heading in their direction. ‘Introduce me,’ Eva said suddenly.

Bel shot her a startled glance, but got up and accosted the man. He bowed over Eva’s hand. ‘I had not expected to see you here, your Serene Highness. I understand we have to thank you for some very interesting armament designs. You are none the worse for your journey, I trust?’

‘Perfectly recovered, I thank you, my lord. So much so that I wish to leave immediately for the Continent, with my son. I believe the butler and footmen at my present lodging are your men—I would like to borrow them for the journey.’

‘But, of course, ma’am.’ She gestured to the seat beside her and his lordship took it. ‘There will be no difficulty with papers, naturally, but we had not expected you to wish to return so soon.’

‘I am anxious about my brother-in-law, the Regent,’ Eva explained, hearing her own voice fluently explaining how her son wanted to go home very badly, how she felt quite rested now—all as though there was some ventriloquist behind her speaking these words while she writhed in dumb misery. It must be the brandy. And years of training.

‘Very well, ma’am, I will have papers for the staff sent to you first thing tomorrow. I wish you a safe and speedy return home, and we will hope to see you again in London when travelling conditions are a little less…exciting.’

He bowed himself off, leaving Bel staring at Eva. ‘What am I going to tell

Sebastian?’

‘Nothing,’ said Eva flatly. ‘Nothing at all if you can help it. Bel, thank you for your support, your friendship. I would have loved to have you as my sister.’

‘And I you. Oh, Eva, don’t give up on him.’ Bel took Eva’s hand and squeezed it.

‘I think for my own sanity, I must do so.’ Eva stood up and shook out her skirts. ‘Could you tell our hostess that I have a migraine and had to slip away?’ She hesitated, Bel’s hands in hers. ‘Goodbye, Bel. Look after him for me.’

As she hurried away through the crowd, she caught Bel’s wrathful parting words. ‘Box his ears, more like.’

Jack stayed where he was after Eva had gone, waiting for his reddened cheek to subside enough to show himself again. The marks of her fingers would probably be there in bruises tomorrow; she had hit with intent to hurt him, and succeeded.

How he had had the strength to do the right thing and turn her down he had no idea. At least she had said nothing about loving him—he did not think he could have coped with that. She was lonely in that great castle, who could blame her? What they had shared had been a revelation for her, but they could not recreate those feelings, not in the humdrum world of court life.

It would be a disaster if they married and he loved her too much to risk it. Jack began to pace, the part of him that was trying to be fair, trying to understand, giving ground again to his pride and his temper. What had possessed her? He should have been the one doing the asking, not her. He should be the one with title and wealth and position to offer, not her. He could not be bought like a toy, and a husband was not something that was easy to throw away when you tired of him, either.