Page 30 of The Last Night in London
“Likewise,” he said, and gave her such an engaging smile that she almost doubted her initial negative impression of him. “I’m afraid that I’ve quite upset our charming hostess by appearing unannounced and creating an uneven number at dinner. I tried to leave, but Sophia and David insisted I stay. I’m only saying this so that you won’t think ill of Miss St. John’s hostess abilities, which are beyond compare. I say that with all honesty, having been a guest at her dining table on several occasions.”
“Oh, Alex, don’t be absurd,” Sophia said, blushing prettily. “And am I truly Miss St. John to you? I do believe we should all be on a first-name basis. Those of us who know one another are such good friends, and those who don’t soon will be.” She linked her arm with Eva’s and gave a small squeeze, then led her through the arched doorway toward the staircase. “Please, call me Sophia. And may I call you Eva?”
“I’d like that,” Eva said, warming to the young woman.
As they reached the stairs, Eva gave a quick glance into the room opposite and saw shelves of books and a heavy wood desk—likely the library. Sophia led her on, bringing her upstairs to an elegantly appointed drawing room. A fire crackled in the fireplace, making the large room appear cozy but doing nothing to erase the chill Eva felt from the open back of her dress, or from the sense that something was askew.
She sought out Graham’s gaze, and he smiled at her. Her uneasiness fled. Sophia noticed her shiver and led her to a small sofa, upholstered in a deep blue velvet, next to the fireplace. “I gave instructions for the room to be warmed, and here you are about to catch your death.” She sent a glowering look toward the butler, who immediately pushed a call button, presumably to summon a maid to stoke the fire.
Eva sank down onto the sofa, grateful to relieve her feet.
Sophia continued. “I should get rid of the lot of them—they’ve grown too soft living in London. Staff from the country are far better, I’m told. Not terribly intelligent, but hard workers. I imagine they’re so eager to get out of their hovels and live in a London town house that they’d work twice as hard for half the money.” She smiled at her own wit, apparently unaware of Eva’s frozen expression. It had nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with what Sophia had just said, especially the word “hovels.”
After Sophia excused herself to see to her other guests, Eva looked for Graham again, wanting him to sit next to her. He was facing away; she started to call out to him, but Alexander moved in front of her, blocking her view. After a brief bow and a perfunctory “May I?” he took the empty seat beside her without waiting for her to answer.
David came toward them before she could react. “I’m your official drinks man for the evening. Sophia says I’m quite good at it, says it’s the main reason she’s marrying me.”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” Eva said, glad for his interruption. “I’d like a French Seventy-five, please.” Precious had assured her that this was the champagne drink all the smart women liked.
“Make that two,” Alexander added, giving Eva another charming smile. He kept a respectful distance from her, allowing for a wide gap between them on the small sofa, and this made her relax somewhat.
After they chatted a few moments about the weather, a uniformed maid brought their drinks on a tray. Alexander took them both and handed one to Eva.
“Cheers,” he said, lifting his glass. Eva did the same, then took a small, ladylike sip.
“Are you Czech?” she asked, belatedly recognizing the accent that hid behind his impeccable English.
He looked at her with surprise. “Very good, Eva. My mother is English, but my father is half-Czech and half-German, raised in Prague. As was I, until I attended Harrow at the tender age of thirteen. I find that my loyalties are split between three countries.” He took a sip of his drink and eyed her appreciatively. “You have an excellent ear.”
His silver gaze held such intensity that Eva was forced to look away. She focused on the bubbles rising to the surface of her glass and took another sip.
“Where have you heard my accent?” he asked.
“My friend Anton Danek. He does the makeup for the models at the House of Lushtak.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding slowly. “I suspected that you were a model. You have a rare sort of beauty. The sort that deserves to be shown off in jewels and beautiful clothes.”
“Thank you,” Eva said, nervous again. Something in the way he spoke hinted at indecent things; it made her skin heat. She put her glass down on the side table and fumbled for her cigarette case inside her purse. Her fingers moved clumsily as she attempted to open the case, and she dropped it on the floor. The hinge Precious had glued together with fingernail polish popped open, spilling cigarettes over the Persian rug.
The maid rushed over and retrieved the pieces of the case along with the three cigarettes that had been inside. “Thank you,” Eva said, returning all but one cigarette to her bag. The maid, younger even than Eva, looked worried, as if embarrassed at being noticed.
“Allow me,” Alexander said, leaning forward with a match.
Her hand shook as she held the cigarette to her mouth. He lit it, then his own, his eyes never straying from her face. “Where did you say you were from?”
“Devon,” she said.
He sat back, studying her carefully. “No, you’re not.”
Her hand trembled as she brought her cigarette to her mouth, trying to disguise the white-hot fear that flashed through her.
“Your accent is very proper, but every once in a while, I can hear you use an inflection that isn’t quite right—and it isn’t quite Devon, either. You see, Eva, you’re not the only one with a good ear.”
She took her time blowing smoke from her mouth, trying to think of a response. Mr. Danek had told her that to make a lie believable, one had to mix in some truth. “I was born in Yorkshire, in a small town called Muker. We moved to Devon when I was a little girl, but I suppose that’s where I learned to speak.”
“Ah, yes. That would make sense.” He took a puff from his cigarette, a knowing smile touching his lips as he continued to study her.
Sophia appeared beside Eva. “I do believe you’re monopolizing our new friend, Alex. Would you please excuse us? We’ve lots to talk about.” She held her hand out to Eva, and Eva tried not to seem too eager as she took it and stood. She met Graham’s gaze from across the room, feeling her nerves settle at its warmth. Her pulse danced in her veins. She wished they were back in the showroom again, just the two of them.
