Anne Barbour by A Talent for Trouble

Author:A Talent for Trouble [Trouble, A Talent for]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Tally sat at her little work table, gazing in consternation at the sunny garden outside her window. How could this have happened? How could she have been so stupid as to fall head over ears in love with a man who would never return her feelings?

Once more, she relived the kiss in the carriage the night before. Once more, she pictured Jonathan’s face when he had finally released her. He had been obviously appalled at his actions.

“I—I’m—please, forgive me, Tally. I don’t know what happened, there. I didn’t mean...”

Tally pulled away from him, and it felt as though she were peeling part of her flesh away. She held herself carefully, so that the misery that threatened to engulf her would not show in her face.

“There is nothing to forgive.” She was vaguely pleased that her voice gave no hint of the turmoil that raged within her. “It was merely the—the heat of the circumstances. Please, say no more about it.”

And he hadn’t. Not about that or anything else on the brief ride home. When they reached the corner of Half Moon and Curzon streets, which was their customary point of embarkation, Tally had slipped from the carriage with a whispered, “Good night.” Jonathan had reached out as though to touch her hand, but withdrew it quickly and bade her a muted farewell.

Obviously, thought Tally bitterly, the kiss that had been pure magic for her meant nothing more to Lord Chelmsford than a momentary whim, which he instantly regretted.

And why shouldn’t he? Her thoughts continued indignantly. What kind of a man becomes engaged to a diamond of the first water, and then goes around kissing persons with whom he is on the most platonic of terms. Particularly when those persons are covered with wrinkles and dust and a wig sliding down their nose.

And how was she to face him again, she wondered dismally. How does one greet a man who has just turned one’s life to ashes?

“Oh, good morning, my lord. Yes, it is a lovely day, isn’t it? Why, thank you I’m very well, except, of course, for this jagged crack in my heart through which my life’s blood seems to be oozing away down the street and into the gutter.”

Telling herself not to be absurd, she returned her attention to the illustration she was trying to complete. It featured a repentant Clifford and Clive in the Bow Street Magistrates’ Court, to where they had been unceremoniously hauled after a misspent night that had culminated in boxing the Watch.

Tally smiled to herself as she remembered the afternoon she had visited Bow Street under Jonathan’s watched auspices. It had been much easier for Granny Posey to creep unnoticed into those rather dingy Halls of Justice than it had for my lord Chelmsford, whose expression had swung from studied uninterest to one of unease that he might be mistaken for a pickpocket. So harassed had he looked at the end of her sketching session, that Tally had longed to reach up and smooth the lines from between his dark brows.

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