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

see our lovely view of St. Marylebone Parish Church. And while you’re admiring the view, I will retrieve my coat.”

She left the room and headed toward the first bedroom, where she and Precious kept their coats and any overflow from their armoires. She had just opened the armoire door when she heard Alex’s voice behind her.

“I trust you received my gift?”

His voice startled her, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that, or knowing how his mere presence unnerved her. Instead, she reached up, pulled her new blue cashmere coat from a hanger, and stepped back to close the door. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to thank you. It’s been rather hectic with the show and our move. But I’m grateful. It’s lovely.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me that you can’t accept such a gift from me? That it was very presumptuous of me and you want me to take it back?”

Her gaze met his. It was as if his eyes were laughing at her. She drew in a breath, not enjoying whatever game he thought to play. “No. I have no intention of giving it back. It’s far too beautiful. And besides, I needed another cigarette case. My old one was quite useless.”

He smiled in a way she was beginning to recognize, a movement of his mouth that had nothing to do with mirth. “I agree,” he said, taking her coat. “Allow me.”

He stood behind her and held up her coat as she carefully slid her arms through the sleeves, not wanting to wrinkle the sleeves of her frock.

He didn’t move away as she began to button the front of her coat, nor did he touch her, but she was as aware of his presence as if he’d just kissed the back of her neck.

“Your accent is getting better, Eva.” His words were soft, almost a caress.

Her fingers froze on the last button, her throat tightening. She opened her mouth to speak, but an invisible hand seemed to have stolen the words.

“Does Graham know the truth? Who you really are?”

“The truth?”

“Ah, so he doesn’t. You’ve worked hard to play your part, the orphaned daughter of a country doctor from Devon. I applaud your skill. Very impressive.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what . . .”

“Yes, you do.” His finger stroked her neck, making her shiver. “I’m very good at finding out things about people they’d rather keep secret. I know a man who got himself into a spot of bother in Prague. I was the one who paid enough people to look the other way, and we got him out of jail and into this country. Nobody knows this but me. This makes him very useful to me. You see, Eva, I have a habit of surrounding myself with useful people. And in today’s uncertain world, it’s a good habit to have.”

“Is it?” She looked down at her fingers, trying to remember what she was supposed to be doing with them. “Why are you telling me this?”

Instead of answering, he said, almost jovially, “Eva Harlow isn’t your real name, is it?”

“Of course it—”

He cut her off. “Don’t bother—several of my useful people are quite good at digging. And you’ve already told me you’re from Muker, in Yorkshire. I would guess that finding a tall, blond, beautiful girl from Muker won’t be difficult, even if we don’t know her real name. Yet.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Of course it’s my real name.” Eva managed to keep her voice steady, even as her fingers fumbled with the same button, her brain frozen with fear and warning, rendering her helpless.

Alexander continued, his voice conversational and without a hint of malice. “Of course, Graham is besotted, and I doubt who you really are matters very much to him—except for the lying part. Most men don’t appreciate being lied to, regardless of how in love they imagine themselves to be. But I’m doubtful Mr. and Mrs. St. John will be as forgiving. Graham may be the second son, but he’s still a blue blood, yes? And you, clearly, are not. They have plans for him and his future, which no doubt include his marrying someone of his class.”

He paused, resting his hands on her shoulders, feeling her traitorous shudder. “A word of advice, Eva—do not underestimate the pressure a family can place on a man when he is choosing a life partner. Eventually, he will be forced to let you go. Assuming you haven’t let him go first. As a second son, he’s not as rich as you’d like him to be.”

Her fingers continued to refuse to work the top button into the buttonhole. Giving up, she clenched her hands into fists, holding them at her chest. “Why are you saying all this to me?” she asked, ashamed of the tremble in her voice.

“Because I like you, Eva. I think we could become quite . . . useful to each other.”

Precious’s footsteps came down the hallway, and Eva stepped away, relieved to feel Alex’s hands slip from her shoulders.

Precious paused in the doorway and looked in. “Are you ready?” Her gaze moved from Eva to Alex, her expression not registering anything out of the ordinary.

“I’m ready,” Eva said hastily, exiting the room to join Precious. She didn’t look back to see if Alex followed, but sensed him behind her.

Sophia emerged from the reception room with David and Graham. “You’re right, Eva. The view is spectacular, and the scale of the rooms is perfect. I know a darling man who would love to help you with draperies and whatnot. No insult intended to David’s taste, but the flat most certainly needs a refresh. I intend to hire the same fellow to replace much of what’s in the town house after we’re married. I don’t think anything has been changed for an age.”

“May we have whatever you’re getting rid of?” Precious asked excitedly. “Eva and I are very good with a needle and thread. We can remake curtains and cushions so that they