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Back One Enchanted Evening Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. The Grand Masquerade Ball
  5. Five Months Earlier . . .
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. September 1936
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. October 1936
  26. Chapter Nineteen
  27. Chapter Twenty
  28. Chapter Twenty-one
  29. November 1936
  30. Chapter Twenty-two
  31. December 1936
  32. Chapter Twenty-three
  33. Chapter Twenty-four
  34. Chapter Twenty-five
  35. Chapter Twenty-six
  36. Chapter Twenty-seven
  37. Chapter Twenty-eight
  38. Chapter Twenty-nine
  39. Chapter Thirty
  40. Chapter Thirty-one
  41. Chapter Thirty-two
  42. Chapter Thirty-three
  43. Chapter Thirty-four
  44. Chapter Thirty-five
  45. Epilogue
  46. A New Year
  47. Extract from Anton Du Beke’s next novel’
  48. Acknowledgements
  49. About the Author
  50. Letter from Author

Her hand was still in his. By instinct, Raymond tightened his hold on it. ‘You never have to be that, Nancy. Let them think you’re invisible. Let them think you’re somebody else, if that’s what it takes. But always stay you where it matters.’ He lifted his other hand and hovered it over her heart. ‘In here.’

Raymond had not been planning it, but now that Nancy was this close he could smell her scent: sweet and simple, nothing like the ostentatious scents of Paris and Milan that mixed with the cigarillo smoke in the Grand every night. He inched closer. Then, when he felt her finger tracing tiny circles on his palm, he inched closer still. His lips were still sore, but he inclined his head to brush her lips with his.

Nancy’s lips opened. He felt their warmth as he touched them for the first time. He kissed her gently. Then he kissed her harder. Then, just as she began to kiss back, something made her stop.

‘What is it?’ he asked gently.

‘It’s . . .’ She stopped, telling herself she was a silly girl. ‘I thought you . . . and Hélène.’

Raymond’s face creased with a smile. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Nothing of the kind. Poor Hélène has problems of her own, without getting embroiled with a ruffian like me. And anyway . . .’

Nancy wanted to ask more – but every question she had simply melted away, for suddenly she was kissing him back, tasting the salt on his swollen lip, the ridges where he’d been battered and bruised. But none of it mattered. She was finally kissing Raymond de Guise.

*

Outside the chamber, in the hallway where the door remained open the merest sliver, Billy Brogan watched as Nancy’s lips locked with Raymond’s. He watched as she lifted a hand and cupped it around Raymond’s swollen, discoloured face. He was watching still as Raymond wrapped his arms around her and ran his fingers around the collar of her dress. Only later, as Raymond ran his hands through Nancy’s hair and they laughed together, pure and simple and honest, did he stumble back along the passageway. Unable to watch any more, he made a hasty retreat to the service lift, rode it down to the ground floor with his heart beating wild. Nancy Nettleton. His Nancy Nettleton. He’d been foolish. He was a little brother to her. That was all. She was with Raymond de Guise now.

No, Billy thought, and remembered all he had heard. She was with Ray Cohen.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

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VIVIENNE EDGERTON OPENED HER EYES.