expect it was the thrill of having you take the lead on the dance floor. You did tell me that it has a tendency to overheat the blood.”
“Oh.” Comprehension dawned on her face. “Yes, indeed. I quite understand. Fresh air is exactly what you require, sir.”
Matthias plowed through the crowd with Imogen in tow. Just before he reached the doors, he was obliged to veer left to avoid an encounter with a cluster of curious onlookers.
It was the sudden change of direction that apparently caused the small disaster. Imogen was unprepared. She collided with a footman carrying a tray of champagne glasses.
There was a sharp exclamation from the footman. The tray slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Glasses crashed and shattered. Champagne sprayed the gowns of the ladies who stood closest to the scene of the accident.
One of the ladies, Matthias saw, was Theodosia Slott.Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her mouth parted in shock. She put a hand to her full bosom.
“
Colchester
.” Theodosia gave a muffled gasp, went quite pale, and slid to the floor in a graceful swoon.
“Bloody hell,” Matthias said.
An uproar ensued. The gentlemen looked nonplussed. They glanced from the fallen Theodosia to Matthias and back again with confused expressions. Several ladies sprang into action. They reached for their vinaigrettes even as they turned their deliciously horrified gazes on Matthias.
“On second thought, Miss Waterstone—” Matthias paused when he saw that Imogen had gone to her knees to help the footman pick up the broken glass. He hauled her effortlessly upright again. “I believe it’s time to leave. This affair is about to become exceedingly dull. Let’s find your aunt and call your carriage.”
“But I’ve only just arrived.” Imogen peered back over her shoulder as Matthias marched her away from the shattered glass and the fallen woman. “Who is that odd lady? I do believe she fainted at the sight of you, sir.”
“My unfortunate reputation sometimes has that effect on people.”
Chapter 5
Matthias leaned into the carriage just before the footman closed the door. He pinned Imogen in the glow of the carriage lamps, his gaze grim with frustration. “I wish to speak with you, Miss Waterstone. Obviously that is not possible tonight.” He cast a brief, irritated glance over his shoulder at Lady Blunt’s crowded front steps, where guests were arriving and departing in a scene of mild chaos. “I shall call on you tomorrow at eleven. Make certain that you are at home.”
Imogen raised her brows at his cool presumption, but she told herself that she must make allowances. It had obviously been a trying evening for him, although for her part she thought things had gone rather well. “I shall look forward to your visit, my lord.”
She gave him an encouraging smile, hoping to bolster his flagging spirits, but the expression in his eyes merely darkened in response. He inclined his head in a brusquely civil farewell. The lamplight iced the streak of silver in his hair.
“I shall bid you both good evening.” He stepped back and turned away. The footman closed the door.
Imogen watched Matthias disappear into the shadows that gathered in the street. Then she glanced at the front door of the large town house. Vanneck emerged onto the front step. His eyes met hers for an instant before the movement of the carriage broke the connection.
Imogen sat very still against the cushions. This was the first glimpse she’d had of Vanneck since the funeral. Three additional years of intemperate living had not been kind. He appeared to have grown more malevolent.
“I must say, nothing is ever dull when Colchester is in the vicinity.” Horatia raised her lorgnette to peer at Imogen. “And as the same can be said of you, my dear, I suspect we are in for a lively time of it.” She did not appear pleased by the prospect.
Imogen drew her thoughts back from the problem of Vanneck. “Who was the lady who
“Oh.” Comprehension dawned on her face. “Yes, indeed. I quite understand. Fresh air is exactly what you require, sir.”
Matthias plowed through the crowd with Imogen in tow. Just before he reached the doors, he was obliged to veer left to avoid an encounter with a cluster of curious onlookers.
It was the sudden change of direction that apparently caused the small disaster. Imogen was unprepared. She collided with a footman carrying a tray of champagne glasses.
There was a sharp exclamation from the footman. The tray slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Glasses crashed and shattered. Champagne sprayed the gowns of the ladies who stood closest to the scene of the accident.
One of the ladies, Matthias saw, was Theodosia Slott.Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her mouth parted in shock. She put a hand to her full bosom.
“
Colchester
.” Theodosia gave a muffled gasp, went quite pale, and slid to the floor in a graceful swoon.
“Bloody hell,” Matthias said.
An uproar ensued. The gentlemen looked nonplussed. They glanced from the fallen Theodosia to Matthias and back again with confused expressions. Several ladies sprang into action. They reached for their vinaigrettes even as they turned their deliciously horrified gazes on Matthias.
“On second thought, Miss Waterstone—” Matthias paused when he saw that Imogen had gone to her knees to help the footman pick up the broken glass. He hauled her effortlessly upright again. “I believe it’s time to leave. This affair is about to become exceedingly dull. Let’s find your aunt and call your carriage.”
“But I’ve only just arrived.” Imogen peered back over her shoulder as Matthias marched her away from the shattered glass and the fallen woman. “Who is that odd lady? I do believe she fainted at the sight of you, sir.”
“My unfortunate reputation sometimes has that effect on people.”
Chapter 5
Matthias leaned into the carriage just before the footman closed the door. He pinned Imogen in the glow of the carriage lamps, his gaze grim with frustration. “I wish to speak with you, Miss Waterstone. Obviously that is not possible tonight.” He cast a brief, irritated glance over his shoulder at Lady Blunt’s crowded front steps, where guests were arriving and departing in a scene of mild chaos. “I shall call on you tomorrow at eleven. Make certain that you are at home.”
Imogen raised her brows at his cool presumption, but she told herself that she must make allowances. It had obviously been a trying evening for him, although for her part she thought things had gone rather well. “I shall look forward to your visit, my lord.”
She gave him an encouraging smile, hoping to bolster his flagging spirits, but the expression in his eyes merely darkened in response. He inclined his head in a brusquely civil farewell. The lamplight iced the streak of silver in his hair.
“I shall bid you both good evening.” He stepped back and turned away. The footman closed the door.
Imogen watched Matthias disappear into the shadows that gathered in the street. Then she glanced at the front door of the large town house. Vanneck emerged onto the front step. His eyes met hers for an instant before the movement of the carriage broke the connection.
Imogen sat very still against the cushions. This was the first glimpse she’d had of Vanneck since the funeral. Three additional years of intemperate living had not been kind. He appeared to have grown more malevolent.
“I must say, nothing is ever dull when Colchester is in the vicinity.” Horatia raised her lorgnette to peer at Imogen. “And as the same can be said of you, my dear, I suspect we are in for a lively time of it.” She did not appear pleased by the prospect.
Imogen drew her thoughts back from the problem of Vanneck. “Who was the lady who
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