Page 39 of The Model Debutante
‘Just a foolish idea of mine,’ Tallie said defensively. ‘The more I think about it the more…’
‘Talitha believes she, or perhaps we, are being followed.’
Nick’s brows drew together sharply. ‘By whom?’
‘A thin man in a greatcoat and beaver hat, but I am sure it is a just a coincidence,’ Tallie murmured. His grey eyes turned to her face and he raised one brow.
‘And how often has this coincidence struck you?’
‘Four times,’ she admitted. ‘At least three I am certain of. I am sure I had seen him before, perhaps once, perhaps more, which is why I noticed him the next time.’
‘Did he approach you? Try to speak to you?’
Tallie shook her head and Aunt Kate added, ‘I am certain he has some criminal intent. Perhaps he is trying to find a pattern to our comings and goings so he can break into the house. After all, look at poor Mr Harland.’
For a second the mask of calm enquiry that Nick was wearing cracked. His head turned sharply to his aunt. ‘Harland? What has happened to him?’
‘The house was broken into,’ she explained. ‘It is dreadful how lawless the streets of London are becoming.’
‘And what was taken?’
‘Nothing, apparently. They just searched amongst the canvasses.’
‘Interesting.’ He said it almost to himself. ‘Now thatisinteresting.’
‘What shall we do about the man in the beaver hat, Nicholas dear?’
‘Go nowhere without two of the larger footmen in attendance and tell the coachman to carry a blunderbuss. I will speak to Rainbird. I would not worry Aunt Kate, if this man has any sinister intent he will soon see you are well protected and shift his interest elsewhere.’
His aunt appeared to find this sufficient reassurance and began to talk cheerfully of her planned portrait. Tallie was not so sure. She made herself eat her bread and butter and sip a little from her glass while watching Nick from under her lowered lashes. She could tell he was thinking furiously, despite the flow of inconsequential talk he was maintaining.
When they rose from the table he intercepted her. ‘Tallie, I would like to speak to you, if I may.’
She knew she should reprove him for using her pet name but the sound of it on his lips was seductively sweet.
‘I promise I am not going to kiss you,’ he said infuriatingly.She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and he added, ‘or do anything else to take advantage of – what did you call it? – oh yes, our unfortunate mutual physical attraction.’
‘Good.’ Tallie edged around the table. Despite his assurances she still felt safer with a width of shining mahogany between them. Quite whether it was Nicholas or herself that she was nervous of, she was not prepared to examine. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘Will you reconsider telling me about your secret? The one you believe my aunt knows all about. Only I do not believe she does.’
‘No, you are correct. She does not. I honestly believed it when I told you that, but I was wrong.’ It was a relief to tell him some of the truth, if not all.
‘Tell me.’ He sat down opposite her.
Feeling a little more secure Tallie sat too. Her legs were shaking. ‘Why?’
‘Because I think it would be safer if you did.’
It was very tempting. Tallie stared into his eyes but they did not hold the reassurance she was looking for. It would not take very much to make her blurt it all out and she could quite understand why people confessed to crimes when questioned. But the inimical gaze regarding her belonged to the man who did not trust her, did not approve of her friends, who wanted her out of his family’s house and lives. The fact that she loved him did not make it any easier, it simply made the thought of the expression on his face when he discovered the truth harder to bear.
‘No.’ He looked a question and she said angrily, ‘Why should I? You make it quite clear you do not trust me. You disapprove of my friends, you wish me gone from here. Why should I hand you a weapon against me?’
‘Is this a war then?’ He raised a long-fingered hand andrubbed it over his face. It was an uncharacteristically weary gesture.
‘It feels like one.’ Tallie wanted to go round and stand behind his chair, massage his shoulders, gently rub his temples until that tiredness ebbed away and he relaxed. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
‘I did not approve of your friends. I was wrong. I apologise. Miss Scott is an intelligent and principled woman. Miss LeNoir is a talented and virtuous one, and Mrs Blackstock seems eminently respectable.’
