Read Online Belle's Beau by Gayle Buck - Free Book Online
Authors: Gayle Buck
Tags: Regency Romance
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When she had the opportunity to glance around again, she was disappointed because she did not see the unknown gentleman.
Lord Ashdon finished the set with Miss Fairchilde and led her back to her chair. He began to make his excuses to part from the Crocker party. Melissa Crocker invited him to a small soiree that they were holding in a few nights, and the viscount expressed his delight at being able to attend. Peter Crocker shook hands with him, a gleam of sympathy in his eyes, and murmured, "I trust that we shall not be serving up roasted goose."
Lord Ashdon gave a quick smile, understanding his friend perfectly well. "So do I, sir, believe me."
Crocker chuckled. "We shall see you then, Ashdon."
Lord Ashdon left Almack's without a backward glance. He was relieved to have completed his duty for that evening. He could declare to his mother with good conscience that he had met one young lady of good family, and that news would pacify Lady Ashdon for at least a day or two. His rash promise of a fortnight's sojourn in London would soon be fulfilled, and he hoped he would be able to delay his mother's machinations on his behalf for that long. Then he could be off to Bath in search of the lady whose lovely face he had never forgotten.
As he started down the street, it occurred to him that he would be returning to the town house early. Lady Ashdon was probably not yet returned from fulfilling her own obligations. It was entirely possible, however, that she had cut short her own amusement to wait for him. Lord Ashdon grimaced. He did not wish to be pulled into a late-night discussion about his matrimonial prospects.
He decided that he was in just the right mood for a late dinner and perhaps a round or two of cards, so instead of returning to the town house, he hailed a hackney cab and gave the direction of his club. As he leaned back against the squabs, he grinned to himself. No doubt his appearance would occasion some surprise.
At the door of the club, Lord Ashdon paid off the hackney, then bounded up the steps, colliding with a gentleman who was just emerging. "Sir! My abject apologies. I did not see you coming out," said Lord Ashdon.
The shorter gentleman had almost instantly righted himself. "Quite all right, I assure you," he replied in a drawl.
Lord Ashdon looked more carefully at the gentleman in the uncertain light thrown by a nearby streetlamp. "By all that's wonderful! Sylvan Darlington!"
The smaller man, preparing to brush past, suddenly turned. "Wait a moment. I know your voice, do I not?"
Lord Ashdon laughed. "It is I, Ashdon. How have you been, Darlington?" The two gentlemen gripped hands.
"I am better than one might expect." The smaller gentleman hesitated. "You heard about my cousins, Richard and Phillip, I suppose?"
Lord Ashdon instantly sobered. "Yes, I am sorry. I did not see much of them while I was in Spain, since I was in a different division. But I understand that they acquitted themselves well."
"Thank you, Ashdon. That is kind of you. It came as a startling surprise to me, as you may well imagine. I never expected to inherit the title."
Lord Ashdon suddenly realized that his companion was now a marquis. "No, of course not. War changes many things. I was about to order supper. Will you join me, my lord?"
"I have already supped, but I will take a glass of wine," said Lord Darlington.
The two gentlemen went into the club and entered the dining room. Lord Ashdon made his order and poured the wine, then spent a comfortable hour in conversation with Lord Sylvan Darlington. The marquis was younger than himself, having been up to school with Ashdon's cousin, Roland White, but he felt no discomfort in their discourse. He had been fairly well acquainted with Darlington's cousins and had often had occasion to include the younger gentleman in their youthful exploits. They talked of several things, coming eventually to the duties that hound a gentleman's honor.
Ashdon leaned back in his chair, rolling his
Lord Ashdon finished the set with Miss Fairchilde and led her back to her chair. He began to make his excuses to part from the Crocker party. Melissa Crocker invited him to a small soiree that they were holding in a few nights, and the viscount expressed his delight at being able to attend. Peter Crocker shook hands with him, a gleam of sympathy in his eyes, and murmured, "I trust that we shall not be serving up roasted goose."
Lord Ashdon gave a quick smile, understanding his friend perfectly well. "So do I, sir, believe me."
Crocker chuckled. "We shall see you then, Ashdon."
Lord Ashdon left Almack's without a backward glance. He was relieved to have completed his duty for that evening. He could declare to his mother with good conscience that he had met one young lady of good family, and that news would pacify Lady Ashdon for at least a day or two. His rash promise of a fortnight's sojourn in London would soon be fulfilled, and he hoped he would be able to delay his mother's machinations on his behalf for that long. Then he could be off to Bath in search of the lady whose lovely face he had never forgotten.
As he started down the street, it occurred to him that he would be returning to the town house early. Lady Ashdon was probably not yet returned from fulfilling her own obligations. It was entirely possible, however, that she had cut short her own amusement to wait for him. Lord Ashdon grimaced. He did not wish to be pulled into a late-night discussion about his matrimonial prospects.
He decided that he was in just the right mood for a late dinner and perhaps a round or two of cards, so instead of returning to the town house, he hailed a hackney cab and gave the direction of his club. As he leaned back against the squabs, he grinned to himself. No doubt his appearance would occasion some surprise.
At the door of the club, Lord Ashdon paid off the hackney, then bounded up the steps, colliding with a gentleman who was just emerging. "Sir! My abject apologies. I did not see you coming out," said Lord Ashdon.
The shorter gentleman had almost instantly righted himself. "Quite all right, I assure you," he replied in a drawl.
Lord Ashdon looked more carefully at the gentleman in the uncertain light thrown by a nearby streetlamp. "By all that's wonderful! Sylvan Darlington!"
The smaller man, preparing to brush past, suddenly turned. "Wait a moment. I know your voice, do I not?"
Lord Ashdon laughed. "It is I, Ashdon. How have you been, Darlington?" The two gentlemen gripped hands.
"I am better than one might expect." The smaller gentleman hesitated. "You heard about my cousins, Richard and Phillip, I suppose?"
Lord Ashdon instantly sobered. "Yes, I am sorry. I did not see much of them while I was in Spain, since I was in a different division. But I understand that they acquitted themselves well."
"Thank you, Ashdon. That is kind of you. It came as a startling surprise to me, as you may well imagine. I never expected to inherit the title."
Lord Ashdon suddenly realized that his companion was now a marquis. "No, of course not. War changes many things. I was about to order supper. Will you join me, my lord?"
"I have already supped, but I will take a glass of wine," said Lord Darlington.
The two gentlemen went into the club and entered the dining room. Lord Ashdon made his order and poured the wine, then spent a comfortable hour in conversation with Lord Sylvan Darlington. The marquis was younger than himself, having been up to school with Ashdon's cousin, Roland White, but he felt no discomfort in their discourse. He had been fairly well acquainted with Darlington's cousins and had often had occasion to include the younger gentleman in their youthful exploits. They talked of several things, coming eventually to the duties that hound a gentleman's honor.
Ashdon leaned back in his chair, rolling his
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