Duplicity [Available on Radish]

Chapter 4

It's been three weeks since Lord Davenport first encountered Lady Evelyn. Three weeks since she materialised out of thin air to saturate his world.

Had he tried to forget her, it would have been impossible, for she always turned up at the exact moments he managed not to think of her. He'd ride in the park, and there she was walking with the Warwicks. Stroll down a crowded boulevard, and there she would be. Alight from his coach, and who should come out of some shop across the way? At the theatre, he'd glance down from his box to see the top of her glossy hair. She was always in the company of the Warwicks, with no sign of the Elwood doppelganger.

From a safe distance, he studied her till he knew her every movement, every gesture. It delighted him to catch the occasional glint in her sparkling eyes, and it made him eager to see it again. Then, when their eyes met, as it always did, her smile would fade as her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. She was always the first to turn away. It amused and annoyed him. Then, he'd carry the alluring image of her with him till their next chance encounter.

Even when he didn't see her, she was on everyone's lips, no matter where he went. Such a pretty figure... Smile that radiated joy... Lord Davenport listened to each facile assessment with silent contempt. Yet, when someone disparaged her with some nit-picked flaw, he had to fight back a powerful urge to defend her. He took keen note no one mentioned seeing her with a young man resembling Percy Elwood, or any other young man for that matter.

To satisfy his curiosity, Lord Davenport made his own inquiries. It seems Mr Percy Elwood remained exiled somewhere in Italy as he had been for some time now. Nothing indicated that he had been back on these shores. Who was the man Lady Evelyn met with, then? What was their business with each other?

Luckily, Philip made no mention of Lady Evelyn since that fateful night. Pray, the next young lady who captures poor Philip's imagination, would be one of unquestionable virtue and known lineage. But, for now, his cousin seemed engrossed with the works of some new tradesmen friends. Philip was someone in desperate need of purpose. Perhaps, he might find inspiration in the company of these enterprising new men.

Of course, change came at a cost to stability. Each day more and more emigrated from God-knows-where. The vast numbers of the unwashed masses made the fine lords and ladies hold their noses as their paranoia grew. There was a general terror of more mob riots that might lead to bloodshed, as they'd witnessed across the channel not so long ago. These days, the difficulties of verifying every letter of introduction from some displaced foreign noble or long-lost relations made everyone wary of infiltration by bad actors.

These thoughts invariably brought the mysterious Lady Evelyn back to mind. Who was she? Where did she come from? And why did any of that mattered to him? Of course, deep down, he knew why. He knew why he hadn't stopped thinking about her from the moment they met. The memory of her soft curves pressed against him haunted him. This sort of fascination had but one cure.

" 'Momentary joy breeds endless pain; this hot desire will surely turn to cold disdain'," he reminded himself.

It's been two weeks since Lord Davenport received the latest missive from his father.

It arrived with the morning post. As always, his father's letter was terse, to the point, and a refrain of all his previous letters. It was time for his only living son to do his duty, take a wife and beget heirs. There's little time left to waste. The difference was, this time, his father threatened to select a wife for him by Season's end.

Lord Davenport let out a derisive snort, then winced as a sharp pain ripped across his skull-a painful reminder of the previous ill-spent night.

The prospect of marriage was neither appealing or unappealing. It must be done- one day. He preferred his father did not persist in reminding him of that duty. He'd prefer not to hear from his father at all.