An Unconventional Miss by DOROTHY ELBURY

theatrical manner, ‘Your carriage awaits, my lady!’
    â€˜It was exceedingly kind of your lordship to go to so much trouble,’ stammered Jessica. She was so distracted by the violent thumping of her heart that she was scarcely aware of Nicholas’s insistent tugging at her sleeve, urgently begging her to make haste.
    â€˜No trouble at all, Miss Beresford,’ replied Wyvern, with another of his devastating smiles and then, to add to her confusion, he took hold of her hand and lifting her fingertips to his lips, murmured softly, ‘I assure you that it was an absolute pleasure.’
    At this somewhat flamboyant gesture, the merest hint of doubt began to worm its way into Jessica’s mind and, suddenly convinced that Wyvern was again bent on amusing himself at her expense, she made ready to snatch her fingers away from his grasp. But no sooner had her eyes flown up to challenge him, than she realised that, far from laughing at her, Wyvern’s expression was full of warmth and—to her growing bewilderment—some other sentiment that she could not readily identify, but which seemed to be causing her heart to behave in the most unruly manner.
    Reluctantly withdrawing her hand from his, she bent her knee in a swift curtsy, before bidding him a final farewell. Then, without a backward glance, she tucked her hand into her brother’s arm and allowed him to escort her across the busy road and into the waiting carriage.
    â€˜Damn! Damn! and thrice damn!’ cursed Wyvern, as he watched the Beresfords’ carriage disappear into the distance.
    â€˜Problem, guv?’ chirped his tiger, hopping up on to his perch, as Wyvern edged his vehicle back into the stream of traffic.
    â€˜Problem, indeed, Berry,’ replied Wyvern, with a heavy sigh. And not as though I didn’t already have more than my fair share of those! he thought ruefully. Although, I suppose if I had a grain of sense, I could steer clear of this one, without too much trouble!
    Flicking his reins, he retraced his journey back down Oxford Street and thence to St James Street, which was to have been his intended destination, had he not allowed himself to be sidetracked by a pair of emerald-green eyes! And all without so much as the batting of a single eyelash, he was obliged to concede. Indeed, if this afternoon’s events were anything to go by, it was beginning to look as if he had done the fair Miss Beresford something of an injustice. Selfishness was hardly an epithet that one could apply to such exceptional behaviour—stubborn, yes, and wilful, without a doubt! He shook his head, taking no pleasure in recalling that his original opinion of the girl had been based upon mere hearsay and, even less to his credit, upon the disgruntled words of a slightly intoxicated would-be suitor!
    Nevertheless, as he swiftly reminded himself, to further the acquaintanceship in any way would be deucedly unwise of him—given the extraordinary and somewhat disquieting sensations that had played havoc with his usual casual urbanity. His lips twisted in a wry smile. Only a year ago, he might have had little hesitation in throwing his cap into Jessica Beresford’s ring! After all, in those far-off, pleasure-filled days, he had been what society was wont to call ‘a good catch’ and, had he been of a mind to do so, could have taken his pick of any one of the never-ending parade of hopeful young débutantes being brought forward for his attention. All to no avail, however, for despite all of his grandmother’s words of wisdom, Wyvern had always been of the opinion that some sort of meaningful relationship was the cornerstone to a successful marriage. And, no matter that the Polite World might regard Felicity Draycott as a model of perfection, it had not taken him long to realise that even a single night spent in the bed of that remote, unresponsive female was likely to be more than enough to cool any man’s