Mr Forster's Fortune Read Online Free Page B

characters. They were hanging about in the doorway towards which the young lady seemed intent on dragging them. He eyed the scene with a good deal of suspicion.
    ‘Err...no, thank you, miss,’ he assured her, grabbing his cousin’s free arm and pulling at him determinedly. ‘We seem to have lost our bearings, that is all.’
    The young lady, though, was made of sterner stuff than this. Having identified a suitable young victim – a young victim who, from his somewhat startling ly elaborate attire, quite obviously had a good deal more darby than sense, it would take more than the efforts of a similarly chuckle-headed young companion to wrench the prize from out of her grasp. So she clung tenaciously to Mr Springfield’s captured left arm, whilst his cousin was equally tenacious with his right.
    ‘What the devil...let go of me, you imbecile. Can’t you see that the lady is...?’
    ‘For God’s sake, Thomas – hike yourself out of here as quickly as you can. Can’t you see it’s a trap? There’s a couple of scaly bruisers not a dozen yards away from you. They’ll be robbing you blind before you even know it.’
    And as if to prove the veracity of his assertion, within another two seconds they could clearly hear the thud of lumbering boot steps heading threateningly towards them, accompanied by a frantic squeal from the young lady intimating that ‘they should go along wiv ‘er’.
    In a way, therefore, it was fortunate that Mr Forster’s grip was a little more secure than that of his gentle adversary, who had made the mistake of clinging more to Mr Springfield’s clothing than to his actual arm. With the strength of desperation he gave his cousin an almighty tug, which caused Mr Springfield to reel into the gutter and drag his attacker down with him. Her counterweight was insufficient for her to retain her hold on her target, though it was sufficient to rip the sleeve quite from the rest of his coat. With an ominous ripping sound and an equally ominous shriek the lady fell to the ground, sleeve in hand, whilst the gentlemen beat the hoof in the opposite direction as quickly as their somewhat trembling legs would carry them.

Chapter 5
    Twelfth Night fell on the Sunday evening that year – an unfortunate mischance which occasioned a more restrained gathering than some of Lady Barnham’s younger guests might ideally have liked. Even so, Cecily could not help but feel just a flicker of excitement at the thought of acquainting herself with the intriguing Mr Forster, who would most certainly be attending his mama that night. She had spotted him about town on a couple of occasions since her arrival, looking elegant and important in his caped boxcoat and beaver, but – to her own mild and private amusement – he had remained singularly innocent, both of her presence, and of the fact that he had managed to catch her eye.
    Lord and Lady Barnham had taken one of the smaller houses overlooking Sydney Gardens, though it was still a most charming property with a most magnificent drawing room, decorated in soft pink and greyish-blue, conveniently overlooking the park. Cecily was wearing a half-mourning gown of a delicate grey silk, edged in black, together with long black gloves, a string of black pearls and a simple bandeau to adorn an intricate array of glossy mahogany curls. The hair had been styled to a new design, spotted just that week in ‘La Belle Assemblee’. Browne had been a good half hour in its manufacture, a half hour of such tugging and pinning that Cecily was desperate that the torment should prove itself worthwhile. But she had smiled at herself as she studied her reflection in the mirror. Yes, quite successful, she decided, and she was in remarkably good looks just now. It was lucky that grey actually suited her. It seemed to bring out the lustre of her dark, expressive eyes.
    She was not immediately at liberty to verify this opinion, however, for the necessary introductions and pleasantries took a