The Art of Love by Lilac Lacey Read Free Book Online

Then she fished in her reticule and brought out her dance card and a little pencil. She chewed the end of the pencil thoughtfully, then scrawled Freddie’s name next to the dance they had just shared and in two other slots as well. Of course the ideal thing would be if the card were too full to allow her to dance with Rodney at all, such a thing would surely show him she felt no special attachment towards him without her ever having to voice such cruel words. Thoughtfully she added Philippe’s name twice, she had seen him in the distance and knew that he of all people would not be hiding in the card rooms. But who else could she put down? If only she could remember the name of the man who had greeted her when she first arrived. Then it occurred to her that it didn’t matter, Rodney’s were the only eyes this dance card was intended for. Quickly she added names; Lord Carlshot, he was hosting this ball, it was highly likely she would dance one dance with him, Mr Yorke, Mr Prendergast, Lord Southerby. The rest of the names were fictitious, but Rodney would not know that. Smiling she scribbled a few more, resisting the temptation to add Mr Fosse, then she replaced her dance card and rose, ready to rejoin the fray.
    Rodney was not in sight when she returned, so Tara allowed herself to relax and observe the dance floor. Another country dance was in progress, slower than the last. She saw three of her gentleman friends, partnered with young debutantes, and she smiled to herself, expecting to be invited to at least one wedding before the year was out. Leo was not present though and she wondered if he danced, if indeed he knew the dances. She had been surprised to see him here tonight and she realised that she had no idea of his background. Before the sitting she had assumed that Rodney’s chosen artist came from a craftsman’s environment, but now that she thought about it Leo was better educated than she would have expected such a man to be. Perhaps he was a dilettante who had taken up painting? But surely if that was the case Rodney would have mentioned it. She knew she couldn’t possibly embarrass Leo by asking, but she wondered about him. Somehow the whole was greater than the sum of the parts.
    ‘Bonsoir, Tara!’ a voice in her ear made her jump, and she turned, smiling, knowing who it was before she saw him. Philippe’s accented English was unmistakable.
    ‘Philippe, how lovely to see you.’ She presented her hand and he kissed it.
    ‘I was quite sure your dance card would be full,’ Philippe said, his eyes twinkling in a way that suggested he knew exactly what Tara was about. ‘In fact I was told it was so. Yet here you are, on the edge of the dance floor, all alone. How can it be?’
    ‘A small error in communication,’ she said, laughing up at him.
    ‘Then let it be an error in my favour,’ Philippe said. ‘Please dance the next dance with me.’
    Tara always enjoyed dancing with Philippe, he had a certain style, fast and lively, which might have been how they had danced in France or it might have been his personality, she couldn’t tell. Either way she was laughing and breathless by the time they finished the set. ‘Merci, mademoiselle,’ Philippe said, bowing and not looking in the least bit ruffled. ‘You have done me a great service; I see that my dancing has caught the eye of a young lady of fortune. Now I believe she hopes to dance with me and I too have hopes for her, so if you will excuse me?’
    So that was why he had chosen to bow rather than kiss her hand. ‘Bon chance,’ Tara murmured and retreated from the dance floor.
    ‘There you are!’ Rodney’s voice made her jump guiltily. ‘I’ve been looking for you all evening.’
    ‘I’ve been dancing the night away,’ Tara said glibly.
    ‘I can see that,’ Rodney said, sounding rather grumpy. ‘Have you any dances left for me?’
    Tara had been wondering if she would dare to go through with her deception, it seemed a callous way to