The Last Night in London by Karen White (reading list .TXT) 📕

Precious threw up her hands. “He’s here, and I’m not quite done with your hair. I say we make him wait while we take our little ol’ time about it.”

Eva managed a real smile. “Thank you,” she said, closing her eyes. She felt Precious tug on her hair and begin to wrap it around her finger again. She dressed carefully in the sequined gown with the open back she’d borrowed from Precious. If she pretended she was dressing for Graham, Eva had found, she could get through the evening. It was her private act of revenge against Alex. At least until she figured out a more permanent solution.

Atop the dress, she wore a white fox fur cape; Alex had sent it over with a note instructing her to wear it that evening. It was one of several furs she’d been forced to accept. To alleviate her guilt over the expensive gifts, Eva had offered them to Precious to wear, but her friend always deferred to her own wool coats, as if the furs were tainted, which, Eva knew, they were.

As Alex handed her into his car, she affected a bored tone. “And where are we headed tonight?”

He waited until he’d joined her in the rear seat before answering. “To the Embassy Club on Bond Street. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. A woman, Georgina Simmonds, formerly Sedlak. We are old friends—our uncles on our fathers’ side were close school friends in Munich, and our mothers are both British, so we have a lot in common. Georgina and I grew up together in Prague. Our families always wanted us to make a match, but she fell in love with a fellow Harrovian, and I was left to lick my wounds and remain eternally single.”

“Is Georgina also a thief? The kind who digs through another lady’s purse while she’s dancing, and removes precious items?”

He didn’t even blink. “Perhaps a lady shouldn’t be offended when it is she who breaches a verbal contract to share certain documents.”

The fox cape at her throat seemed to suffocate her, the weight of it like dirt on a coffin. “As soon as the clock strikes midnight, I want to leave.”

“Fair enough. Just be nice to Georgina and dance with whoever asks, and I will take you home as soon as the last bell tolls. But there are several gentlemen I want you to be particularly friendly with. Do you understand? I need you to be amiable, to let them know you’re someone they can trust. Someone they can confide in. War makes strange bedfellows, I find. Everyone joggling for position, trying to be the one on top.”

She felt his gaze on her, and abruptly turned her head.

—

New Year’s revelers flooded the streets of the capital long past midnight, and Eva didn’t return to the flat until nearly half past two, exhausted and drunk, her feet blistered and sore from dancing with men who held her with too much familiarity and spoke in languages she couldn’t understand. She’d met Georgina, an attractive brunette who smiled and laughed and conversed like the rest of Alex’s friends, except Eva couldn’t help but feel as if she was also being judged. Georgina’s flat dark eyes followed Eva as she moved on the dance floor, her expression one of consideration, as if judging a match of skills.

As usual, Alex escorted her to the door of her flat, kissing her hand in farewell. She turned away to open her door, then swung around again. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to bring it up, to make him believe she cared enough to inquire. But she needed to know. “You haven’t mentioned my mother. Is she safe?”

“She is. And quite happy, I might add. She wants to see you so she can thank you for saving her from your father. You’ve seen the corroboration that he was released from jail, so you know I can be trusted.”

“Trust you? Are you mad?”

He was suddenly very serious. “No, my dear. Simply a realist.” He gave her an appraising look. “And you forgot to cover this.” He reached out a finger and touched the small crescent-shaped birthmark on her neck.

She recoiled as if he’d burned her.

“I prefer perfection.” He took her hand, kissed it again, then left, taking the lift this time.

It took Eva several tries to get her key in; she finally succeeded on the fourth try. The door swung open and she stumbled inside, kicked off her shoes, and began to undo the clasp on the fox fur cape.

Then she stopped. All the lights were on in the flat, and music from the gramophone came from the drawing room. She recognized the song, remembering it from when she and Graham had danced at Sophia’s wedding at Hovenden Hall. “Begin the Beguine.”

But it wasn’t the lights or the music that seemed to sober her. It was the scent. Of cold wool and sandalwood soap. Graham. Eva ran into the drawing room, stumbling once and almost falling before catching herself on a club chair.

Precious stood alone in the room, swaying to the music. Through the alcohol haze, Eva noticed that she wore a silver evening gown that fit her curves like a second skin. The mink coat lay on the sofa as if carelessly discarded, not in the wardrobe where Eva knew she’d left it.

She blinked. “Where’s Graham?”

Precious stopped swaying and lifted the needle off the record. “He was here. He had only a few hours, and he wanted to see you. To let you know that he’s all right.”

“But . . .” Eva couldn’t form the words she wanted to say.

“Graham wanted to celebrate the New Year, so he asked me to get dressed and pour the champagne. David and Sophia apparently stockpiled a whole bunch of it.” She offered a wobbly smile. “He said it might be his last New Year’s, so he wanted to do it in style. I borrowed your mink—I hope you don’t mind.” She attempted another smile, but it failed quickly.