Read Online A Change of Fortune by Sandra Heath - Free Book Online
Authors: Sandra Heath
Tags: Regency Romance
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houses at Streatham Park had provided a colorful profusion of chrysanthemums, primulas, and camellias, as well as the exotic plants which filled every embrasure. Garlands of holly and ivy were draped around paintings, columns, balustrades, and statues, and golden baskets of mistletoe were suspended from the ceilings between the immense crystal chandeliers.
The babble of laughter and the drone of refined conversation vied with the orchestra as the guests assembled in the magnificent mirror-lined ballroom. Their reflections were repeated again and again in the polished glass, so that it seemed as if the ballroom stretched away into glittering infinity on all sides.
Dorothea was not in a good mood as she stood at the top of the ballroom steps with her husband, greeting the guests as they arrived. She was dressed splendidly in a red velvet Turkish gown, with a matching turban, and there were opals at her throat and in her ears. She looked very elegant, and there was a smile on her lips, but her eyes were sharp with displeasure, and beneath her hem her foot was tapping irritably. The cause of her discontent was her lack of success in acquiring either of the men of her choice as a lover. First there was Lord Byron, who had had the audacity to turn down an invitation to the ball, and who was about to leave town for an unspecified period; and second there was handsome young Lord Palmerston, a government minister of very romantic and charming inclination, who had more than caught her eye at the Almack’s subscription ball the night before, and who had danced far too many dances with her friend and fellow patroness. Lady Cowper. Emily Cowper was very beautiful and fascinating, and Lord Palmerston hadn’t looked at another woman all evening. It was all most frustrating and disagreeable, and Dorothea felt decidedly out of sorts as a consequence.
At her side, her husband’ stood in wary silence. Count Lieven was thirty-nine years old and reasonably good-looking, but he was far from impressive, in spite of the light blue cordon of St. Andre across his breast. He wasn’t of the necessary caliber to be the czar’s ambassador, owing his advancement solely to his mother’s influence at St. Petersburg, and he was very much in the shadow of his forceful and clever wife.
Nadia stood a little behind them, her ostrich-feather fan wafting slowly to and fro. Tonight she had forsaken her favorite white and wore a pale pink satin gown with a low, square neckline and an overgown of rich blond lace. Her golden hair was hidden beneath a close-fitting pink velvet hat from which sprang a feathery aigrette, and she wore a magnificent diamond necklace which she had borrowed from Dorothea. She gazed over the crowded floor, thinking about Rupert, now so inconveniently on his way to Althorp. She had been so sure she would succeed with him, but her confidence had been severely shaken by the events at the seminary. Now she was forced to accept that Leonie Conyngham posed a very real threat to her plans; indeed there was even the unpalatable possibility that Rupert had engineered the whole thing in order to gain an introduction to Leonie. Nadia’s lips pressed angrily together and her fan wafted more busily to and fro. She, who was so used to using others, had in turn been shamefully used herself, and her pride had received a considerable blow. But she was still set on winning Rupert, who was too great a prize to let slip through her clever fingers now. From now on she would be much more on her guard, she would play her cards very carefully indeed—and she would make Leonie pay dearly for her interference.
Her wandering glance fell suddenly on Edward Longhurst as he lounged on a red velvet sofa at the side of the ballroom. He sat alone, and looked supremely bored. He wore a tight-fitting blue coat and a ruffled shirt, and there was a quizzing glass swinging idly in his white-gloved hand. His thoughtful, cynical glance surveyed the dazzling gathering,
The babble of laughter and the drone of refined conversation vied with the orchestra as the guests assembled in the magnificent mirror-lined ballroom. Their reflections were repeated again and again in the polished glass, so that it seemed as if the ballroom stretched away into glittering infinity on all sides.
Dorothea was not in a good mood as she stood at the top of the ballroom steps with her husband, greeting the guests as they arrived. She was dressed splendidly in a red velvet Turkish gown, with a matching turban, and there were opals at her throat and in her ears. She looked very elegant, and there was a smile on her lips, but her eyes were sharp with displeasure, and beneath her hem her foot was tapping irritably. The cause of her discontent was her lack of success in acquiring either of the men of her choice as a lover. First there was Lord Byron, who had had the audacity to turn down an invitation to the ball, and who was about to leave town for an unspecified period; and second there was handsome young Lord Palmerston, a government minister of very romantic and charming inclination, who had more than caught her eye at the Almack’s subscription ball the night before, and who had danced far too many dances with her friend and fellow patroness. Lady Cowper. Emily Cowper was very beautiful and fascinating, and Lord Palmerston hadn’t looked at another woman all evening. It was all most frustrating and disagreeable, and Dorothea felt decidedly out of sorts as a consequence.
At her side, her husband’ stood in wary silence. Count Lieven was thirty-nine years old and reasonably good-looking, but he was far from impressive, in spite of the light blue cordon of St. Andre across his breast. He wasn’t of the necessary caliber to be the czar’s ambassador, owing his advancement solely to his mother’s influence at St. Petersburg, and he was very much in the shadow of his forceful and clever wife.
Nadia stood a little behind them, her ostrich-feather fan wafting slowly to and fro. Tonight she had forsaken her favorite white and wore a pale pink satin gown with a low, square neckline and an overgown of rich blond lace. Her golden hair was hidden beneath a close-fitting pink velvet hat from which sprang a feathery aigrette, and she wore a magnificent diamond necklace which she had borrowed from Dorothea. She gazed over the crowded floor, thinking about Rupert, now so inconveniently on his way to Althorp. She had been so sure she would succeed with him, but her confidence had been severely shaken by the events at the seminary. Now she was forced to accept that Leonie Conyngham posed a very real threat to her plans; indeed there was even the unpalatable possibility that Rupert had engineered the whole thing in order to gain an introduction to Leonie. Nadia’s lips pressed angrily together and her fan wafted more busily to and fro. She, who was so used to using others, had in turn been shamefully used herself, and her pride had received a considerable blow. But she was still set on winning Rupert, who was too great a prize to let slip through her clever fingers now. From now on she would be much more on her guard, she would play her cards very carefully indeed—and she would make Leonie pay dearly for her interference.
Her wandering glance fell suddenly on Edward Longhurst as he lounged on a red velvet sofa at the side of the ballroom. He sat alone, and looked supremely bored. He wore a tight-fitting blue coat and a ruffled shirt, and there was a quizzing glass swinging idly in his white-gloved hand. His thoughtful, cynical glance surveyed the dazzling gathering,
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