“Which of course explains why you have arrived with flowers, as if we were courting.” She rolled her eyes. His actions were so mixed it would have to confuse anyone who witnessed them. Even a country nobody like Margot knew of that particular tradition.
“They were pleasant,” Langley said. “Besides, they seemed to suit you.”
To this absurdity, Margot wrinkled her nose, but from the other side of the salon she could have sworn she heard Jessop sigh. What silliness. Margot was busy congratulating herself on remaining unaffected by Langley when the dratted man leant over the table and caught the worried end of her sleeve. With skilful ease he rebuttoned it, and only when he freed her hand did Margot realise that she had been holding her breath.
So, she was not quite as safe as she would have liked to think.
“Ahem.” There was a noise and they both turned to see Mrs. Bowley in the doorway, looking a little flushed and slightly dishevelled as she glanced between the two of them. Her pose only relaxed when she spotted Jessop in the corner. “And what brings you here, my lord?” She moved forward to join Margot, who hoped her companion had not seen the moment of hand holding. If she had, Margot would never hear the end of it.
“Why, to ask you both to promenade with me along Rotten Row. I am quite sure there are several of my dear friends who would be charmed to make Miss Keating’s acquaintance.”
To this, Mrs. Bowley did not look convinced, but an expression of complete calculation passed over her face and then, she suddenly smiled, clearly remembering that no matter what gossip said, Langley was a wealthy earl. He had status, position, and was very eligible. Mrs. Bowley it seemed couldnot help but be flattered on Margot’s behalf. “Do run and fetch our bonnets and shawls, Jessop, as we would be delighted to accompany you, my lord.”
CHAPTER 12
The next ten days passed in something of a heady, exciting but enjoyable rush, Langley realised. It was utterly different from the sort of thing he had ever done in his life before.
He first noticed the change on the evening he attended Almack’s. He had been a few times in his chequered existence to the elegant assembly rooms on Kings Street in St James, but by and large avoided the place like the plague. With its numerous chandeliers, with gilt filigree on every mirror, and every painting the rooms fairly sparkled, it was the place to be seen and noted—an activity that Langley had mixed feelings about, but for Margot, if she was going to spend the next month or more searching for those diamonds in every fashionable location, there was no better place to be.
It was hard not to notice her arrival, even from Langley’s shadowy and reluctant corner. His eyes were drawn to the bow of her mouth and how it curved into a smile as she nodded out her greetings. Given Margot’s height and slim build, she stood far above the other diminutive debutantes, meaning Langley could always find her. Which was both a blessing and a curse, as he was trying his best to simply be her helpmate, at least for now.Until they found all those keys, and he could finally claim that kiss. Once that was done, everything would make sense to him again—a mantra he was clinging to like a prayer.
An hour into the evening, he found Margot by the refreshment table, having grown annoyed by the numerous dances she had been invited on and not enjoyed any of the ones he’d danced.
“I have heard a great many warn me of the horrors of the weak lemonade.” Her statement was blandness itself, but Langley could see a sparkle in Margot’s eye.
“Quite.” His voice was sharper than he expected. “And the tastelessness of the food.”
“I found myself pleasantly surprised by how lovely it has all been.”
“You’re doing it wrong.” He drifted nearer, caught by her sweet jasmine scent and unable to resist lingering closer. Wondering if it was sprayed on her shallow décolletage or around her delicate collarbones. “It is necessary to always be fashionably bored. If one wishes to succeed in society.”
“Ah, but I don’t. At least not for long.” Her voice dropped as Margot lowered her glass from her lips, and whispered conspiratorially, “I am, I think, something of a jade, you see. I mean to use London society horribly and then dash away once I have had my fill.”
Her amusing honesty and the glint in her green eyes were bright, illuminated by the chandeliers, and Langley could not remember for all the world, any woman who had ever seemed more alive with the possibilities of the lark they were engaged on, so that he could not stop himself laughing. The noise was a genuine one, ripped from Langley’s throat almost despite himself, and caused him to tilt his head back in utter delight. Several nobles andtonmembers turned and looked at them in disgruntlement, unused to the reality of such a sound.
“Come,” he said, unable to resist, “we should dance.”
“As long as it is a preamble to finding the clock that is secreted here.”
It stayed with him, that feeling of release, of laughter, of amusement, long after the rudimentary dance was done, and they had worked out where the clock was.
Each in turn found a reason to slip from the main ballroom, and meet each other in one of the winding passageways, past prying eyes.
“Are you certain it is this way?” There was something to Margot’s voice that told Langley she found this search as thrilling as he did.
Nodding in response, he reached for her hand, interlinking their fingers, and they slipped away. It would have been his tactic had he been bent on seduction, but this was a new track for him.
They found the clock in a quiet retiring room, where it was positioned in a cabinet. They exchanged smiles excitedly, and he distinctly heard her hiccup of pleasure at the sight.
A few candles lit the room, and they hurried closer, rather like children searching for presents.
“We did it.” She squeezed his fingers before she released his hand, and for a moment Langley felt annoyed that she had let go. He quickly dismissed such sentimental feelings. Why hadn’t he felt it when they had danced, was it merely the intimacy of being alone? He hoped that was all.
“How did you get inside last time?” Margot had prised the clock out of the cabinet and held it in her grip.
“You expect me to tell you all my tricks?” he teased with a provocative look. Margot rolled her eyes. Easing it from her hands, careful not to touch her again in case he felt those disturbing emotions once more, Langley prised open the front ofthe clock, but saw nothing. “The first one was at the front,” he said with a sigh.
“Mayhap it is in the back.” Margot was seemingly completely unbothered by touching him as she lifted the clock up to the dim candlelight. He watched as the thoughts played over her expressive face, and then she smiled, illuminating them both.
