Helen Dickson - Scandalous Secret, Defiant Bride

‘I most certainly do,’ Max replied. ‘I consider cricket as being a great part of human life and I cannot imagine what would become of the English without it.’

‘My thoughts absolutely. So, will nine o’clock suit for our meeting?’

‘Of course.’

Christina peered at him sharply, wondering why all the men she knew were so fanatical about knocking a ball about a field, and she was also curious as to what a perfect stranger could have to discuss with her father.

Chapter Two

Both Sir Gerald and Lady Audine Thornton, well mannered and well bred, were the ideal hosts. Whenever they entertained they liked to relax the rules. There was always plenty of amusement without any of the coarser element that vulgarises so many of the stately homes of England. They had sufficient force of character to steer clear of any such difficulties at their dinner and weekend parties.

Christina was most put out because James was seated on her side of the dining table and too far away for her to speak to him, but she was pleased Mr Lloyd had been seated further along, so she was saved the painful ordeal of having to converse with him. She did, however, study him surreptitiously throughout the meal. He seemed relaxed and comfortable as he ate sparingly and sipped his claret, completely at ease among the room full of strangers, and yet she had a feeling that beneath his relaxed exterior there was such a carefully restrained power, that a rash of gooseflesh raised itself on her forearms and a cold shiver raced along her spine.

Her parents kept up a flow of small talk. Fortunately the guests were all well acquainted and the conversation was animated and interesting, mostly about local matters. Mr Lloyd was a popular figure, everyone wanting to talk to him about Italy, and he spoke to them calmly and at length, explaining in detail what it was like.

Christina was to recall later how, on observing her parents, they exchanged worried glances and seemed unusually quiet as Mr Lloyd spoke, but she thought nothing of it just then. She realised their new neighbour was clever and keen minded as the conversation progressed, and he was evidently no stranger to the world at large. To her surprise she was anything but bored as she listened. He was so worldly and so well informed that she was fascinated and a little awed, and when he described the cities Sienna and Florence, and areas that were most dear to his heart, he seemed to sweep away the four walls and let sunshine and blue skies into the room.

Doing her best not to show her interest, she surreptitiously cast glances his way along the line of guests. At one point, without warning, he turned and she was caught in the act of staring at him. His gaze captured hers, and Christina raised her chin. A strange, unfathomable smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he slowly inclined his head towards her. Angrily she averted her gaze. What a conceited, arrogant man he was, and she sincerely hoped that when the evening was over it would be the last she would see of him.

When the meal was over and the ladies had retired to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to smoke their cigars and cigarettes and drink their port, bored out of her mind, Christina waited with considerable impatience. She was eager to talk to James, but when the gentlemen finally joined the ladies she was disappointed when he stuck to Peter and they continued discussing tomorrow’s cricket match.

Standing with the vicar’s wife, who was regaling her with the various stalls she had arranged to be set up the following day in the cricket field, Christina looked around her restlessly for an excuse to get away. Her gaze settled on Mr Lloyd, who was engrossed in conversation with Hal Jenkinson, who was not only the captain of the cricket team but the local doctor.

As if sensing her interest, Max turned. Their glances clashed and for a second she found herself marvelling at the colour of his eyes. They were bright blue, warm and glowing, as blue as a tropical sea, and in their depths was an enquiring look, as though to ask her what she had seen in them to arouse her interest. His eyes narrowed and his mouth lifted in one corner, and he cocked an eyebrow quizzically.

Furious with herself and with two spots of dark colour high on her cheeks, with as much dignity as she could summon she turned away.

As the evening wore on and it was clear that James was not going to come and talk to her, she flounced through the French windows on to the terrace.

From where he stood lounging indolently against the piano, on which one of the ladies was entertaining them by playing some lively, popular songs, Max’s eyes narrowed, and after a few moments he followed her.

Pacing impatiently up and down the terrace, a scowl marring her perfect features, from the corner of her eye Christina glimpsed a tall figure in the shadows. Convinced he was watching her, she walked towards him. The man was standing with one shoulder propped negligently against the trellising, idly smoking a cigar, the smoke curling slowly up into the night sky as he watched her in speculative silence. Only when she moved closer still and he stepped into the light spilling on to the terrace from the drawing room did she see it was Max Lloyd.

‘Why, Mr Lloyd!’ she said, boldly taking the offensive. ‘I might have known it would be you lurking in the shadows. You seem to have a penchant for creeping up on people.’

In no mood to be baited by the whip of her vitriolic tongue, Max’s eyes narrowed and his lean face darkened. ‘You’re mistaken, Miss Thornton. I never creep. Like you, I was merely taking the night air and seeking privacy to smoke my cigar.’ He extinguished his cigar in an ashtray placed conveniently on a low wall for those who, like himself, liked to smoke outside so as not to cause offence to the ladies.

‘Please don’t put it out on my account.’

‘I didn’t.’

Christina, momentarily distracted by the sound of laughter, was looking towards the French windows. A gentleman appeared, but after taking a look on to the terrace he went back inside. Max saw disappointment cloud her eyes and knew she had been hoping it was James Embleton who had come to look for her. Her reaction annoyed him and his temper took over.

‘It has not escaped my notice that you have been watching Mr Embleton a great deal,’ he remarked, shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets. ‘You have had eyes for no one else all evening.’

‘And you would know that, wouldn’t you,’ she snapped, determined to make her escape, ‘since you have been watching me?’

Max’s dark eyebrows arched and his eyes gleamed with sardonic amusement. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Thornton. I have watched you no more and no less than anyone else present tonight.’

Christina’s mouth was hard, her eyes like flint. ‘How dare you speak to me like this? You keep your nose out of my business. James is a gentleman and he treats me—’

‘Like a lady? Is that it?’

He advanced towards her, and for a moment Christina felt compelled to back away from him, almost stumbling over the short train of her dress.

‘What I saw you doing today were not the actions of a well-brought-up young lady,’ he told her—but then, he thought, even the most naïve could see that Christina Thornton was no meek young miss who did as she was told.

Christina threw back her shoulders and lifted her head imperiously, the action saying quite clearly that she was not ashamed. ‘We were doing nothing wrong,’ she retorted with an insistence meant to convince him. It was as though she had resolved to justify her actions, knowing very well that if anyone else had come along—and heaven forbid it had been one of her parents’acquaintances—her reputation would have been ruined for life.