Mistress at Midnight Read Online Free

be arriving imminently.
    Elizabeth Berkeley and her parents came in the second wave of company. Lady Berkeleylooked like an older version of her offspring and for a moment Stephen could see just exactly how her daughter would age: the small lines around her mouth, the droop of skin above her eyes, the social ease with which she sailed into any occasion.
    His glance went to Elizabeth dressed in lemon silk and lace. ‘It is so lovely to be here, my lord,’ she said in a lilting whisper, placing one hand on his arm. Her nails were long and polished to a sheen.
    A sudden flash of other fingers with nails bitten almost to the quick worried him, for he still wore their trails down his neck, hidden carefully under the folds of collar and tie.
    Shaking away memory, he settled back into the moment as the Berkeleys moved on in the line of greeting and the next visitors came forth to be welcomed.
    She was suddenly there beside him, the very last of the evening’s guests, her hair wound up in an unflattering fashion, the black bombazine gown she wore unembellished and prim.
    ‘Mrs Aurelia St Harlow and her sister Miss Leonora Beauchamp.’
    A wave of hush covered the room at thename, all eyes turning to the staircase. Aurelia was Charles St Harlow’s widow? God, but she was brave.
    ‘How on earth could she even think to come out in society, still?’
    ‘It was she who killed him, of course.’
    ‘Has the strumpet no shame at all?’
    Threads of conversation reached Hawk even as she gave him her hand.
    ‘I thank you for the kind invitation, my lord,’ she said, her glance nowhere near meeting his own, ‘and would like to introduce to you my sister Miss Leonora Beauchamp.’
    The chit was charming, young and well mannered, but Hawk smiled only cursorily before turning back to the other.
    ‘St Harlow was my cousin.’
    For the first time, she looked at him directly, her eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep or from poorly placed cosmetics, he could not tell. She wore glasses that were so thick they distorted the shape of her face.
    ‘We are almost family, then.’ The smile accompanying the statement was hard.
    He thought the sister might have turned away, but Aurelia held her there before him, her force of will biting through the atmospherein the room, a small island of challenge and defiance.
    Finally she leaned forwards and whispered, ‘I gave you the exacted payment for the promise of this evening, my lord, and Leonora is not at fault here. Two dances and we will leave.’
    ‘I am not sure, Lia. Perhaps we should go now.’ The beginning of tears shone in the younger girl’s frightened eyes.
    ‘Do not cry, Leonora. It is me whom they despise. They will love you if you only let them.’ Turning back, Stephen saw that Aurelia’s hand shook before she buried it into the matt blackness of the wool in her skirt, but she did not give an inch. He had to admire such a resolute feistiness.
    ‘If one beards the lion in his den, one must be brave.’ Hawk related this to Miss Leonora Beauchamp and was glad when she smiled because the relief in Aurelia St Harlow’s eyes was fathomless, hollow pools of mismatched colour focused upon him.
    Years of deception flooded in. An unashamed façade undermined the certainty of others. If Aurelia St Harlow could brazen it out for an hour or more here, he doubtedthe rumours swirling around her would be quite as damning.
    Lord. The promise of a dance with the sister had placed him in a position of difficulty, too. Charles had been one of the last living Hawkhursts, and the closest in blood to him save his uncle, but he had barely known him.
    He saw Elizabeth with her family watching, her lips pinched in that particular way she had of showing worry. Guileless. He saw Luc observing him, too, the frown of anger on his brow as pronounced as those of many others. But even this could not make him withdraw his promise and order them gone.
    His uncle next to him solved the whole thing entirely as he