Sarah Mallory

From London With Love


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her eyes upon his face.

      ‘Alex and I are very close, we share many of the same interests, but we have never been more than friends. Tony knew that: it gave him some comfort to know that when he was away we could look after each other.’ Impulsively she put her hands on his chest. ‘I may flirt a little, Major, but I have never played my husband false, and I never intend to do so. I want you to believe that.’

      They stared at one another, oblivious of the raucous laughter and exclamations of the crowds around them. Jack’s hand came up and covered her fingers.

      ‘I do believe it,’ he said slowly. ‘The more I know of you, the more I am intrigued. I think you are more innocent that you would have me believe.’

      Eloise stepped back. Warning bells were clamouring in her head: he was far too close to the truth! She gave a little laugh.

      ‘Do not put me on a pedestal, Major, I pray you.’ She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘Shall we find our supper box now?’

      However, when they were seated in their box, Eloise gave Jack a smiling apology.

      ‘I am afraid my appetite has quite deserted me. We are so exposed here, with all the world and his wife walking by.’

      ‘Then let us give them a performance,’ murmured Jack, bringing his chair a little closer. ‘You need to eat, so I shall feed you titbits.’

      ‘No, I should not—’

      He speared a tiny piece of the wafer-thin ham with his fork and held it out to her.

      ‘Yes, you should.’

      ‘But everyone is watching!’

      ‘Exactly. If our man is out there he will be reassured. And as for the rest, well, they will think I am the luckiest dog alive!’

      Looking into his smiling eyes, Eloise capitulated. She opened her lips to take the proffered morsel. It was delicious, which seemed to heighten the decadence of the action, and she did not protest when Jack offered her another. She felt he was tempting her with so much more than a mouthful of food. Eloise put down her wine cup. The arrack punch was very strong and it was already making her senses swim.

      ‘You are flirting with me, Major.’

      ‘Very much so. And if I bring my head closer to yours while I pour the wine…’

      ‘No more for me, thank you! I need to keep a clear head for later. Do you really think we are being watched?’

      ‘I do. We must show him that I am truly enamoured of you.’

      ‘Oh, how?’

      He took her hand.

      ‘Like this.’

      Her toes tingled with excitement when she saw the wicked gleam in his eye. She watched as he slowly pulled off her glove, holding her hand like a delicate piece of porcelain. Gently he turned it over and lowered his head to press a kiss on the inside of her wrist. She gasped. He continued to drop kisses on the soft skin of her arm. Little arrows of fire were shooting through her; it was all she could do to keep still.

      ‘I—um—I think we should stop now.’

      He ran the tip of his tongue lightly across the hinge of her elbow. Unspeakably pleasurable sensations curled around inside her, so intense she was afraid she might slide off her chair. She gazed at his head as he bent over her: she wanted to reach out and caress the raven’s gloss of his hair. She clenched her free hand to prevent herself from trying such a thing.

      ‘Major. Jack!’ She hissed his name, almost squirming now under his touch. ‘People are staring.’

      He raised his head, fixing her with a devilish grin.

      ‘That is exactly what we want,’ he murmured. ‘It is almost time for you to keep your appointment in Druid’s Walk.’

      Immediately the pleasant lassitude she had been feeling disappeared. She swallowed nervously.

      ‘It is?’

      He nodded, slipping one arm around her waist.

      ‘So I am going to try to kiss you, then you will slap my face and leave me. Can you do that?’

      Swallowing again, she nodded. Smiling, Jack gently pulled her into his arms. It was like coming home. Eloise gazed up into his eyes, black and fathomless as night. His face was only inches from her own. Her lips parted instinctively, her eyelids drooped. She ached for him to kiss her but his mouth remained tantalizingly just out of reach.

      ‘Now you have to slap me.’ Jack’s voice was no more than a croak. He said curtly, ‘Do it!’

      Eloise dragged her wandering thoughts back. She knew what was expected of her. Pulling herself out of his grasp, she slapped him with her bare hand. Then, snatching up her glove and her domino, she marched off.

      The gardens were much more frightening for an unescorted lady. Eloise pulled the hood of her domino over her head and hurried along the paths, trying to ignore the rowdy laughter coming from the darker walks. She kept her head down. Someone knocked her shoulder.

      ‘I beg yer pardon, lady.’

      She heard Perkins’s familiar voice and felt a rush of gratitude, glancing up in time to see him tugging at his forelock before he turned and sauntered away. It was reassuring to know she was not quite alone.

      She had memorised the instructions. The second arbour off Druid’s Walk. Now as she turned into the famous avenue she began to worry. What if someone was already there? What if the writer wanted to harm her? She shook her head and tried to think rationally. If her tormentor had the journal then most likely he would want some extortionate payment. She would pay it, too, if it was the only way to get the book back.

      She reached the second arbour and slowed down. Cautiously she approached the dark space. A canopy of leaves blotted out almost all the light, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see an empty bench at the back of the enclosure. Her heart beating, she walked to the bench and sat down to wait. Almost immediately a voice sounded to her right.

      ‘You keep good time, madam. I congratulate you.’

      Eloise jumped up. A black shape detached itself from the shadows. It was a man, wrapped in a dull black cloak and hat, his face hidden beneath a black mask. As he moved forwards the light glittered eerily on the eyes peering through the slits in his mask. She cleared her throat.

      ‘What do you want of me?’

      He held out his hand and she saw the grey oblong held between his fingers. It was too dark to read it but she knew from its shape and size that it was another page from the diary. As her hand reached out he snatched it back.

      ‘How much?’

      He laughed.

      ‘You are very sensible, ma’am. No tears, no hysterics.’

      ‘Would they do me any good?’

      ‘Not at all.’

      ‘Then I will ask you again, how much?’

      ‘This page I will give you in exchange for a kiss.’

      ‘And the rest of the book?’

      She heard him chuckle. It sent a shiver of revulsion running through her.

      ‘That depends upon the kiss.’

      He reached out and pulled her to him, pressing his lips hard against her mouth. She froze, fighting against an impulse to push him away.

      When he let her go she gasped and instinctively dragged the back of her hand across her mouth.

      ‘Who are you?’

      ‘You will discover soon enough. Here.’ He held out the grey oblong. ‘Take it. I shall let you know the price for the rest.’

      She twitched the paper from his fingers.