Ravished by the Rake by Louise Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

looked round and doffed his hat. ‘Indeed,’ Dita agreed, as she returned the gesture with an inclination of the head a dowager duchess would have been proud of. Alistair raised an eyebrow—an infuriating skill—and returned to his contemplation of the view. ‘Lord Lyndon is definitely
er.
Best avoided, in fact.’
    ‘But he likes you, and you are not afraid of him. In fact,’ Averil observed shrewdly, ‘that is probably
why
he likes you. You don’t blush and mumble like I do or giggle like those silly girls over there.’ She gestured towards a small group of merchants’ daughters who were jostling for the best position close to the men.
    ‘Likes
me?’ Dita stared at her. ‘Alistair Lyndon hasn’t changed his opinion of me since that encounter at the reception, and the accident we had on the
maidan
only made things worse. And don’t forget he knew me years ago. To him I am just the plain little girl from the neighbouring estate who was scared of frogs and tagged along being a nuisance. He was kind to me like a brother is to an irritating little sister.’
And who then grew up to discover that she was embarrassingly besotted by him.
    ‘Well, you aren’t plain now,’ Averil said, her eyes fixed on the shore as the
Bengal Queen
slipped downriver. ‘I am pretty, I think, but you have style and panache and a certain something.’
    ‘Why, thank you!’ Dita was touched. ‘But as neither of us are husband-hunting, we may relax and observe our female companions making cakes of themselves without the slightest pang—which, men being the contrary creatures they are, is probably enough to make us the most desirable women on board!’
    Dinner at two o’clock gave no immediate opportunity to test Dita’s theory about desirability. The twenty highest-ranking passengers assembled in the cuddy, a few steps down from the roundhouse, and engaged in polite conversation and a certain jostling for position. Everyone else ate in the Great Cabin.
    Captain Archibald had a firm grasp of precedent and Dita found herself on his left with Alistair on her left hand. Averil was relegated to the foot of the table with a mere younger son of a bishop on one side and a Chatterton twin on the other.
    ‘Is your accommodation comfortable, my lord?’ she ventured, keeping a watchful eye on the tureen of mutton soup that was being ladled out to the peril of the ladies’ gowns.
    ‘It is off the Great Cabin,’ Alistair said. ‘There is a reasonable amount of room, but there are also two families with small children and I expect the noise to be considerable. You, on the other hand, will have the sailors traipsing about overhead at all hours and I ratherthink the chickens are caged on the poop deck. You are spared the goats, however.’
    ‘But we have opening windows.’
    ‘All the better for the feathers to get in.’
    Dita searched for neutral conversation and found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. This was torture. The way they had parted—even if he had no recollection of it—made reminiscence of their childhood too painful. She was determined not to say anything even remotely provocative or flirtatious and it was not proper to discuss further details of their accommodation.
    ‘How do you propose to pass the voyage, my lord?’ she enquired at last when the soup was removed and replaced with curried fish.
    ‘Writing,’ Alistair said, as he passed her a dish of chutney.
    The ship was still in the river, its motion gentle, but Dita almost dropped the dish. ‘Writing?’
    ‘I have been travelling ever since I came to the East,’ he said. ‘I have kept notebooks the entire time and I want to create something from that for my own satisfaction, if nothing else.’
    ‘I will look forward to reading it when it is published.’ Alistair gave her a satirical look. ‘I mean it. I wish I had been able to travel. My aunt and uncle were most resistant to the idea when I suggested it.’
    ‘I am not surprised. India is not a