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

Eva drew another drag from her cigarette, absently continuing to watch the people in the park, the warm air stagnant and cloying, fitting her mood. They’d been to the Eton–Harrow cricket match at Lord’s earlier in the day, standing in the heat with thousands of well-heeled spectators. Although it was usually a two-day affair, Eva, Precious, and Sophia had opted out of the entire spectacle and made only a Sunday appearance. They were present at the final pitch, when Harrow defeated Eton for the first time in thirty-one years. The resulting brawl would have been amusing if Eva hadn’t had to pretend to be as shocked as Sophia.

Precious knocked on Eva’s door. “Are you decent?”

Eva stabbed out her cigarette in an ashtray. “Yes. Come in.”

Precious entered, already dressed and made-up for the evening. She looked at Eva with surprise. “You’re not ready yet? They’ll be here in less than half an hour. David is bringing his motorcar and driver, so we’ll all fit together. We’ll be like bugs in a rug.” She grinned, then held out a small package beautifully wrapped with pale blue paper and white silk ribbon. “This just arrived for you by messenger.”

“From Graham?” Eva asked as she sat down on the bed and searched for a gift tag.

“Of course,” Precious said. “Who else could it be from?”

Eva’s hands stilled for a moment. “Who indeed?” she said as she pulled on the ribbon and began tearing at the paper. She eagerly lifted the lid of the box inside, smiling with relief. It was a bottle of Vol de Nuit, her favorite perfume. The one she’d told Graham about.

“Is that . . . ?” Precious’s blue eyes widened.

“It is. It’s a large enough bottle, so we can share.” Eva took it out of the box and unscrewed the glass top. After dabbing the perfume behind each ear and on her wrists, she handed the bottle to Precious.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I know this is your signature scent, and I don’t want to confuse Graham.” Precious grinned.

“I don’t mind sharing with you. We’re like sisters, remember?” Eva smiled up at her friend. “Besides, I do believe Graham is familiar with me by now. I doubt he’ll be confused.”

While Precious applied the perfume to her neck, Eva dug through the box, looking for a card of some sort, wanting to see Graham’s handwriting. A folded ivory-colored linen note lay at the bottom of the box. She reached for it, then froze, remembering another folded note. One that hadn’t been from Graham.

“Is it from him?” Precious asked, leaning over Eva’s shoulder.

Eva pressed the note to her chest. “Of course. And if you’ll give me some privacy, I’d love to read it.”

“Sorry.” Precious managed to look remorseful. “But do hurry—they’ll be here soon.” She placed the perfume bottle on Eva’s dressing table on her way out. Eva waited until she heard her friend’s footsteps disappearing down the hallway before unfolding the note. It wasn’t signed, and there was no salutation, but none was needed.

Please accept this gift as a small token of my esteem. Its creator, Jacques Guerlain, said it was designed for a demanding and charismatic woman with a sense of adventure. It was as if M. Guerlain had you in mind when he blended his fragrance. I do admire a woman with a sense of adventure.

She read the note several times before tearing it into hundreds of pieces, then scattering them outside her window, shameful little secrets fluttering toward the ground. Turning toward her dressing table, she spied the bottle, noting the front of it was designed to look like an airplane propeller. She picked it up, ready to toss it away as if it were rubbish to show Alex that he didn’t know her at all.

Except he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent her such an expensive gift, something he knew she coveted yet couldn’t afford. Something she would find quite impossible to return. She twisted off the stopper and smelled the cocktail of flowers mixed with vanilla and spices. She knew what the bottle cost, just as she knew it was too much for her to afford unless she didn’t want to eat for a week.

Reinserting the stopper, she replaced the bottle on her dressing table, and her fingers lingered just for a brief moment before she pulled them away. It’s just a gift, she told herself. And Alex wasn’t asking anything in return. Not yet, her inner voice warned. But he hasn’t, she argued back. It could be that he was simply an admirer who found her charismatic and appreciated her sense of adventure. What harm could there be in accepting this token of his regard?

She recalled something Mr. Danek had told her, how some might see her fondness for beautiful things as a weakness and use it to their advantage. He was wrong, of course. It was a weakness only if she couldn’t walk away. She would if she had to.

She took out her gown from the armoire and finished getting dressed, taking special care with her cosmetics and hair. They were going to Café de Paris in Leicester Square for dinner and dancing. The band was always good and the dancing lively, and it was usually so crowded that one could press more closely than necessary against one’s dance partner without anyone noticing.

Eva stifled her disappointment when David appeared at the door of the flat instead of Graham. Sophia waited in the car with Alex, and Graham would meet them at the café, as he’d had pressing business. She allowed David to place her stole around her shoulders, then walked with Precious toward the lift.

Alex stood by the side of the car as they approached, his eyes giving her an appreciative once-over. His black evening clothes suited him, and she recognized the expert fitting and cut of his dinner jacket. It was one of the things she’d learned at Lushtak’s. It was how she could tell which