Read Online Compromised by Christmas by Katy Madison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katy Madison
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"So me
too."
"What are you giving, Miss Winston?"
"Ah, you'll just have to wait and see," she said. Oh
stars, she would have to come up with gifts for everyone. "Perhaps,
I'll give Lady Malmsbury my lace."
"Oh, do not waste it on her," said Lady Angela. "For
I would dearly love it."
"She's bamming us," said Miss Lambert. "She probably
has handkerchiefs too."
"No, I assure you I do not." Roxana didn't have
sufficient lawn to make handkerchiefs. Store bought would be too
dear. Red silk wouldn't suffice.
The gentlemen entered the room, bringing in the scent
of the outdoors, and the duchess rang for tea. The duke entered,
his cheeks reddened from the winter cold. He looked in her
direction and their eyes met. Heat snaked up through her body and
she lost count of her stitches.
"He looked our way," said Miss Lambert with a
titter.
Lady Angela looked at Roxana. "He looked her
way."
"I'm sure he is just observing that you have
arrived." Roxana nodded toward Miss Lambert.
As the duke broke free and started in their
direction, Roxana hastily scanned for Mr. Breedon. He stood near
his mother.
Roxana gathered her crocheting and stood, hoping to
get to his side, before the duke waylaid her. She heard his
gracious welcome of Miss Lambert as she had nearly reached Mr.
Breedon.
"I am off to that walk now, Mama. Do you still wish
to go?"
Lady Breedon sent her son off with a wave. "Bundle
up, it looks cold out there."
"Do you want tea, Miss Winston?" asked the duke
behind her. His voice ran down her spine like quicksilver.
No, she wanted to catch Mr. Breedon, but as he
slipped out the door she knew she'd have to snare him after his
walk. Lord Lambert approached and Max greeted him and politely
engaged him in conversation.
Roxana managed to move away and avoid Max until Fanny
suggested it was time to change for dinner, dispersing the crowd in
the drawing room. Steering clear of Max when nearly all of his
guests wanted to engage him in conversation was easy. He played the
gracious host to the hilt, politely conversing with each and every
one who approached him.
Roxana was determined not to let him distract her,
and considered how best she could encourage Mr. Breedon.
*~*~*
"Fanny is avoiding me as if I carried the plague."
Scully aimed his cue stick.
Max crossed both his hands over the top of his stick
and leaned on it, waiting for Scully to take his shot. "Mmmm."
They were in that odd part of the early evening after
tea when the ladies all disappeared to dress in all their finery
for the evening, but the gentlemen were at loose ends, not needing
hours to don their breeches and evening coats.
Scully pulled up and looked at Max. "Your mind is on
the evening ahead?"
Actually Max's mind was on Roxana. What pressures
bore on her?
"How about loaning me clothes for this evening? I had
only one change of evening clothes and I wore them last night."
"My clothes will hang on you like a scarecrow. What
did you do? Race here as soon as you got my invitation?"
Scully rolled his eyes. "Of course. I do hope the
stable hands can save my horse. I rode him near to death."
"I am sure if you survived, your horse will." What
would Roxana wear tonight? No doubt it would be remarkable.
"I am not at all sure that I do myself any favors by
keeping close my hand. Can you ask Fanny where her heart is?"
"For God's sake, Scully, you're not a school boy. Ask
her yourself."
"Ah, well, I have not succeeded in getting her alone,
and there is all the squiring about of Miss Winston."
"You have hardly been doing that."
"Of course I have, when Breedon isn't doing it for
me. Does Fanny not ride any longer? I asked her to ride out with me
and she refused."
"Of course she rides, Dev, but not while there are
guests in the house." If Roxana wasn't hanging on Breedon's arm,
Scully was ready to step up and engage her in conversation. Scully
was almost taking his duties too seriously. Max should have been
relieved that he did not need to keep Roxana under
too."
"What are you giving, Miss Winston?"
"Ah, you'll just have to wait and see," she said. Oh
stars, she would have to come up with gifts for everyone. "Perhaps,
I'll give Lady Malmsbury my lace."
"Oh, do not waste it on her," said Lady Angela. "For
I would dearly love it."
"She's bamming us," said Miss Lambert. "She probably
has handkerchiefs too."
"No, I assure you I do not." Roxana didn't have
sufficient lawn to make handkerchiefs. Store bought would be too
dear. Red silk wouldn't suffice.
The gentlemen entered the room, bringing in the scent
of the outdoors, and the duchess rang for tea. The duke entered,
his cheeks reddened from the winter cold. He looked in her
direction and their eyes met. Heat snaked up through her body and
she lost count of her stitches.
"He looked our way," said Miss Lambert with a
titter.
Lady Angela looked at Roxana. "He looked her
way."
"I'm sure he is just observing that you have
arrived." Roxana nodded toward Miss Lambert.
As the duke broke free and started in their
direction, Roxana hastily scanned for Mr. Breedon. He stood near
his mother.
Roxana gathered her crocheting and stood, hoping to
get to his side, before the duke waylaid her. She heard his
gracious welcome of Miss Lambert as she had nearly reached Mr.
Breedon.
"I am off to that walk now, Mama. Do you still wish
to go?"
Lady Breedon sent her son off with a wave. "Bundle
up, it looks cold out there."
"Do you want tea, Miss Winston?" asked the duke
behind her. His voice ran down her spine like quicksilver.
No, she wanted to catch Mr. Breedon, but as he
slipped out the door she knew she'd have to snare him after his
walk. Lord Lambert approached and Max greeted him and politely
engaged him in conversation.
Roxana managed to move away and avoid Max until Fanny
suggested it was time to change for dinner, dispersing the crowd in
the drawing room. Steering clear of Max when nearly all of his
guests wanted to engage him in conversation was easy. He played the
gracious host to the hilt, politely conversing with each and every
one who approached him.
Roxana was determined not to let him distract her,
and considered how best she could encourage Mr. Breedon.
*~*~*
"Fanny is avoiding me as if I carried the plague."
Scully aimed his cue stick.
Max crossed both his hands over the top of his stick
and leaned on it, waiting for Scully to take his shot. "Mmmm."
They were in that odd part of the early evening after
tea when the ladies all disappeared to dress in all their finery
for the evening, but the gentlemen were at loose ends, not needing
hours to don their breeches and evening coats.
Scully pulled up and looked at Max. "Your mind is on
the evening ahead?"
Actually Max's mind was on Roxana. What pressures
bore on her?
"How about loaning me clothes for this evening? I had
only one change of evening clothes and I wore them last night."
"My clothes will hang on you like a scarecrow. What
did you do? Race here as soon as you got my invitation?"
Scully rolled his eyes. "Of course. I do hope the
stable hands can save my horse. I rode him near to death."
"I am sure if you survived, your horse will." What
would Roxana wear tonight? No doubt it would be remarkable.
"I am not at all sure that I do myself any favors by
keeping close my hand. Can you ask Fanny where her heart is?"
"For God's sake, Scully, you're not a school boy. Ask
her yourself."
"Ah, well, I have not succeeded in getting her alone,
and there is all the squiring about of Miss Winston."
"You have hardly been doing that."
"Of course I have, when Breedon isn't doing it for
me. Does Fanny not ride any longer? I asked her to ride out with me
and she refused."
"Of course she rides, Dev, but not while there are
guests in the house." If Roxana wasn't hanging on Breedon's arm,
Scully was ready to step up and engage her in conversation. Scully
was almost taking his duties too seriously. Max should have been
relieved that he did not need to keep Roxana under
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