Gail Whitiker - Revenge In Regency Society

‘Maybe, but you’ll never make a fighter of him. He’s too soft,’ Hayle said. ‘He hasn’t the heart for it. You’d do far better sparring with me. At least I’d give you a run for your money. So what do you say? Are you up for it?’

Barrington’s expression was deceptively benign. He was used to cocky young men challenging him. At one time, he’d encouraged it, fond of pitting his skills against all comers. But that game had lost its appeal years ago.

He was about to say as much when the door to the dining room opened and one of the younger maids walked in. He hadn’t noticed her earlier in the evening, which meant she likely hadn’t been in the room. He would certainly have remembered her if she had. She was somewhere in her early twenties, with dark brown hair and rather startling green eyes—

Barrington stiffened. Green eyes and dark brown hair. Was it possible he’d found Colonel Tanner’s elusive Miss Paisley? If so, he wasn’t surprised that the Colonel had asked him to look for her. Though petite, she had a lush, curving figure that was nicely displayed in the black gown and white apron. Her face was heart shaped and delicate and she had a truly lovely smile. But equally aware of having drawn the attention of nearly every man in the room, her cheeks turned bright pink as she made her way towards the butler, who was standing in the corner overseeing the proceedings.

A whispered conversation followed, during which the butler’s heavy eyebrows drew together in annoyance. Then, with a flick of his hand, he dismissed her.

As she headed back in their direction, Barrington noticed Hayle doing a leisurely appraisal of her charms. Then, slowly raising his glass, he watched her over the rim and when she was no more than five feet away, coughed. Not discreetly, as a gentleman might, but in a manner that was guaranteed to draw attention.

The girl glanced in their direction—and her step faltered.

Barrington heard her breath catch and saw her eyes widen as they met those of the man sitting next to him. Beside him, Hayle just smiled. Coldly. Like a spider watching a fly, knowing it was doomed.

The butler, noticing her standing in the middle of the room, said sharply, ‘Be off with you, girl!’

She went, all but running to the door. Hayle turned away, seemingly uninterested. ‘Bloody endless evening,’ he muttered into his glass.

But the girl didn’t leave. Barrington saw her hesitate by the door, saw her turn around to take one last look at Hayle, and the expression in her eyes said it all.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Barrington remarked, drawing deeply on his cigar. ‘Seems to me it’s all in how you look at it.’

Anna was seated at the pianoforte playing an air by Bach when the drawing-room door opened and the gentlemen filed in. She knew the piece well enough not to be flustered by their arrival and kept on playing, watching with interest as they took their various seats and settled into conversation with the ladies. Her father stopped to chat with Lady Bessmel, but eventually ended up at Julia’s side. His face was flushed and he was smiling. No doubt the result of an extra glass of port after dinner.

Edward spoke briefly to Lady Lydia Winston, but, judging from the expression on her face, the conversation was not at all to her liking. She stiffly got up and walked away. Edward just laughed.

‘I was going to ask if I might turn the pages for you,’ Sir Barrington said, quietly appearing at her side. ‘But since it’s obvious you play from memory, I doubt you are in need of my help.’

The glow of his smile warmed her. ‘Nevertheless, it is kind of you to offer, Sir Barrington.’

‘Kindness had nothing to do with it. I was looking for an excuse to talk to you.’

Anna was tempted to ask why he felt the need of an excuse, but the teasing quip died on her lips when she saw the way he was looking down at her. ‘About something in particular?’

‘Of course.’ He stared a moment longer, before turning his attention back to the room.

Anna kept her eyes on the keyboard, waiting for her breathing to settle. Would it always be like this? Was she destined to feel this trembling excitement every time Barrington drew near? She certainly hoped not. It wouldn’t bode well for their friendship if she did.

She cast a sideways glance at him and knew he was taking it all in. Making mental lists about the people and situations that intrigued him. Watching. Always watching.

‘It must get tiresome,’ she said at length. ‘Always having to watch the behaviour of others.’

He turned back to smile at her, one eyebrow raised in amusement. ‘That depends on your point of view. Some people spend their entire lives studying the behaviour of others. Wanting to know what their friends and acquaintances are doing. It’s called being nosy and society suffers from it excessively.’

Her lips twitched. ‘That’s quite true, but what you do is entirely different.’

‘Why would you say so?’

‘Because you don’t watch people with the intention of catching them doing something wrong. You watch with a view to catalogue it all for future reference. You notice who they speak to and who they ignore, if they drink too much or not at all, and if they dance with that person and not this one.’

‘You make me sound rather devious,’ he observed.

‘No. Just observant. Something that probably serves you well given the nature of your … occupation.’

The piece of music came to an end and Anna rose to the polite applause of the guests. Miss Constantine was to play next, and as that young lady moved forwards to take her place at the piano, Anna dropped back and fell in beside Barrington.

‘Did I detect a note of censure in your voice just then?’ he asked as they slowly walked away from the instrument.

Did he? Anna didn’t like to think she was revealing too much of herself, but with him, it wasn’t always easy to know. ‘I have the feeling, Sir Barrington, that one is never entirely safe around you. You see a great deal without ever giving the appearance of actually looking. That makes you dangerous.’

‘Only to those with something to hide. The innocent have no reason to fear me.’ His eyes found hers and held them captive. ‘I trust you do not find me dangerous, Lady Annabelle?’

‘Danger comes in many forms. I suspect knowing a man like you does not come without risks.’

‘Life does not come without risks,’ he said softly. ‘But you’re right. A man like myself is always more of a target, as are the people who associate with me.’

Thinking he was being overly dramatic, Anna smiled and said, ‘In that case, you’d best warn Miss Erickson to keep her distance.’

‘Miss Erickson?’

‘Miss Sofia Erickson. I happen to know she is very fond of you.’

Barrington said, ‘I’m not sure I know her.’

‘Of course you do. Eldest daughter of Viscount Oswell and recently returned from visiting her aunt in Edinburgh. She made her come out this Season and has already been acknowledged as one of its greatest successes. She speaks French and Italian fluently, is an accomplished rider, and an exceptional singer.’

A smile ruffled his mouth. ‘And have you had occasion to save the young lady from herself?’

‘Good Lord, no.’ The sensual curve of his lips brought a series of highly inappropriate thoughts to mind, but Anna forced herself to ignore them. ‘She is one of the most intelligent young women I’ve ever met. She is mindful of the proprieties and quite capable of telling a gentleman to watch his manners if she feels he is out of line.’

‘Tell me, how do you come to be so involved in the lives of all these young women?’ Barrington asked curiously as they sat down together on the velvet settee. ‘Surely your father would wish you to pay more attention to your own future than chasing around after everyone else’s?’