“Dear me,” murmured Newby.
“Another villainous act to credit to my father’s account,” said Naomi with a curl of the lip. “I am very sure he would plan his own daughter’s murder!” The footman handed her into the carriage, and she sat back against the squabs, suddenly unutterably weary; unutterably sad.
Gideon limped to the groom who stood holding Newby’s horse.
“No!”roared Sir Mark. “You damned young fool! You’ll fall out of the saddle!”
“The devil I will,” said Gideon under his breath, but he was dismayed by the effort required to mount up.
The jervey ran to his stirrup, wringing a greasy hat in his work-roughened hands, his eyes frantic. “Melor’—I gotta a wife and five babbies. Me coach was all I ’ad, melor’! We’ll starve, fer sure, melor’!Please,melor’!”
His face seemed to ripple. Gideon gripped the pommel with one hand, and knew he was very tired indeed. “I’m sorry about your coach,” he said. “Tummet—arrange for repairs, and see what you can find out about all this.”
The jervey mumbled incoherent thanks. Tummet nodded, and Gideon urged Newby’s grey down the hill.
***
“I cannot think what you imply, ma’am.” Katrina Falcon’s cheeks were a trifle flushed, her eyes sparkling with rare anger as she faced Mrs. Golightly at the side of the dance floor.
“But not a thing, my dear.” Mrs. Golightly’s fan fluttered, and above it her black eyes glittered with triumph. “Inevercredited that even Naomi Lutonville could be so daring as to lose her shoe in such vulgar fashion. I have doneallin my power to scotch the scandal, but—”
“I was unaware therewasa scandal,” said Katrina.
Reginald Smythe murmured with a small smile, “And i’faith, we all know how gentle and generous a heart is yours, dear lady.”
A laugh went up, and Mrs. Golightly said, “How very true, and is there anything more touching than blind loyalty among friends?”
More people were joining the little group, and Mr. Harrier lisped, “Is the divine Lutonville come, or has Rossiter kidnapped her away from us?”
“Ain’t back yet, dash it all,” said Mr. Crenshore, sighing. “Missed my dance, begad!”
“That naughty, naughty boy,” gurgled Mrs. Golightly. “I wonder what he can be thinking of to keep her away so long.”
“Perhaps the lovely lady has mislaid her other shoe,” said Mr. Smythe with a titter.
“Well, I ain’t mislaid mine, and will be only too glad to use ’em on any filthy-minded gabblemonger in need of a good kick!”
The cold words cut like a knife through the ripple of laughter, and heads turned.
August Falcon, striking in a habit of dark blue velvet, the pocket flaps and great cuffs of his coat sleeves rich with embroidery, sauntered up with Lady Naomi on his arm. My lady looked a little pale, but her smile was brilliant and she plied her fan with exquisite grace.
All eyes shot to her feet. Two dainty jewelled slippers sparkled in the light from countless candles.
“Oh—my…” whispered Samantha Golightly, her face falling.
Reginald Smythe raised his brows, thought ‘Be damned!’ and said admiringly, “But how clever of you, dear lady.”
Falcon’s dark gaze was fixed on the dandy. “What a pity about your mouth, dear Reginald.”
Smythe lifted a questing hand. The halfmoon patch his man had applied still seemed in place. “How so?” he asked anxiously.
“It annoys me,” purred Falcon.
Katrina took Naomi’s hand. “I am so glad you are back, dearest. Oh, youdidchange your slippers!” She looked steadily at Mrs. Golightly. “I wonder you bothered.”
Rudolph Bracksby wandered up. “Where is Captain Rossiter?”
“Falcon likely shot him,” said Crenshore with a grin.
