Charity Girl by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online Page A

nail on the head, adding that he had grown to be a regular Jerrysneak. Emma knew very well that this inelegant expression signified a henpecked husband, but said with dignity that she didn't understand cant terms. She then said, as both gentlemen laughed, that they were a couple of horrid rudesbys.
       'To be sure we are!' cordially agreed her life's companion. 'You know, if you mean to take part in this dance, the pair of you, you'd best join the set before it's too late!'
       But when he learned that so far from joining the set they were going in search of a little fresh air he instantly said, with considerable aplomb, that having watched Des desperately flirting with Miss Bugle he was dashed well going to see to it that he didn't get the chance to make up to Emma too.
       So the three of them passed through the wide double-doors which stood open into the hall. Several people were gathered there, in small groups, most of the ladies fanning themselves, and the gentlemen surreptitiously wiping their heated brows; but Mrs Redgrave had the advantage over them in knowing the geography of the house, and she led her two cavaliers past the stairway to the back of the hall, and through a door which gave access to the gardens. The air was rather more oppressive than it had been during the day, but in comparison to the conditions within the house it was refreshing enough to cause Mr Redgrave to draw a deep breath, and let it go in a vulgar: 'Phew!' He then expressed a wistful desire for a cigarillo, but as his wife recognized this as a mere attempt to hoax her into begging him not to do anything so improper as to light a cigarillo at a ball she paid no attention to it, but tucked her hand in his arm, and strolled on to the lawn. The moon was at the full, but was every now and then hidden by clouds drifting across the sky. Summer lightning flickered, and Mr Redgrave said that he wouldn't be surprised if they were in for a storm. A few minutes later a distant rumble made Emma think that perhaps it was time they returned to the ballroom. Her disposition was in general calm, but she had a nervous dread of thunderstorms. Any of her brothers would have scoffed at her fears, but her husband and her cousin were more understanding, and neither scoffed nor tried to convince her that the storm was not imminent.
       When they re-entered the house there was no one in the hall, but just as Mr Redgrave softly shut the door into the garden Stonor Bugle came out of the ballroom, and exclaimed: 'So there you are! I've been looking for you all over!'
       'Oh, dear!' said Emma guiltily. 'I hoped no one would notice it if I slipped away for a few minutes! It is such a hot night, isn' t it?'
       He laughed heartily at this. 'Ay! Devilish, ain't it? I only wish I could sherry off into the garden, but I can't, you know! My mother would comb my hair with a joint-stool if I did! The thing is that old Mrs Barling has been asking for you, ma'am: says she hasn't seen you since time out of mind, and has been peering round the room after you ever since someone told her you was here.'
       'Oh – ! Dear Mrs Barling! I'll come at once!' Emma said, and went back into the ballroom, bearing her reluctant spouse with her.
       Stonor followed them, but the Viscount lingered in the hall to adjust his neckcloth, having caught sight of himself in a mirror that hung beside the double-doors into the drawingroom. He was not a dandy; he would have repudiated without hesitation Lady Bugle's assertion that he was a Pink of the Ton; but he was undeniably one of the Smarts, and the glimpse of himself in wilting shirt-points, and a slightly disarranged neckcloth came as a disagreeable shock to him. There was little he could do to restore their starched rigidity to the points of his shirt-collar, but a few deft touches were all that was needed to repair the folds of his neckcloth. Having bestowed these upon it, he turned away, gave his shirt-bands a judicious