Read Online Confessions of a Little Black Gown by Elizabeth Boyle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Boyle
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paused and tried to remember what it was one said, for it had been a long time since he’d prayed.
Then for some reason he glanced to his left and looked at Miss Langley.
Rather Miss Langley’s breasts, which from this angle were displayed like a pair of doves on a platter.
Lord, help me…
Chapter 4
There is hardly a man in England with a secret I cannot unearth with the exasperating exception of Geoffrey, Lord Larken. The baron has proven to be a vexing mystery, but I refuse to give up.
A recent addition to The Bachelor Chronicles
A fter dinner, the ladies made their requisite departure for the green salon, and Tally found her elbow in the viselike grip of her sister.
Well, she’d known there was going to be hell to pay for coming down to dinner dressed like this, but really, she thought as she glanced at her sister’s tight expression, it was Felicity’s own fault. Not that her twin would accept the blame.
Still, knowing the best course was to wait out the first wave of complaints, Tally dutifully let herself be led along the long hallways, teetering atop her borrowed high-heeled shoes.
Oh, the dress fit splendidly, but the shoes pinched and were far too high for her less-than-graceful gait.
Though that bit of pain didn’t keep her from smiling over Mr. Ryder’s obvious discomfiture—not that Felicity had noticed. No, her sister had remained blissfully unaware of the man’s distress over her pestering questions, while Tally saw all too clearly he had no desire to marry.
Not when every time her sister mentioned the word “bride,” he’d twitched as if he’d been stuck with one of Aunt Minty’s knitting pins.
So what the devil was the man doing here if he didn’t want to be matched? Surely if he’d grown cold feet over the prospect, he would have merely sent his regrets and not set a foot into the duchess’s house party, family obligations or not.
The question became: Why had Mr. Ryder come here?
That was the mystery, one that piqued Tally more than she cared to admit.
Having waited patiently at the foot of the stairs throughout dinner, Brutus came trotting up to his mistress, giving her a sharp salute in the form of a single yip , and then fell in step alongside her, his little tail wagging happily at their reunion.
When they entered the salon, Lady Charles and Minerva made a discrete beeline to the card table in the far corner, while Lady Geneva sat down in a solitary chair near the fire. Without even looking, she reached down and picked up her embroidery, most likely having been positioned precisely by her maid, who was rumored to be as exacting as her mistress.
With similar efficiency, Felicity ordered the tea tray, waited patiently the four seconds until Staines removed himself and closed the door, before turning to Tally quicker than Brutus after a squirrel.
“What am I to do?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Well, I—” Tally began, a little confused, for she’d expected a harangue over her choice of gown.
“He’s a dullard!” she declared, throwing up her hands and pacing in front of Tally. “Did you listen to him at dinner?”
“Well, I—I—I—”
“I thought not. Good gracious heavens, Tally, you could have at least tried to converse with the man?”
“Yes, well—”
“Were you attending at all?” Felicity asked, not really looking for an answer, for she continued with the next breath, “The weather, Tally! The weather! All the man could speak upon was the weather. Cumulous this, and some nonsense about rain all next week. Rain!” Felicity shuddered. “What a terrible thing to be saying to a hostess on the eve of her first house party.”
Tally closed her eyes to try and get this all straight. Felicity was upset about the weather?
At her feet, Brutus made a snuffling sound and when she glanced down at him, the little dog shook his ruffled head as if he were just as confused.
Her sister’s pacing came to a quick halt, her foot a mere hair’s breadth
Then for some reason he glanced to his left and looked at Miss Langley.
Rather Miss Langley’s breasts, which from this angle were displayed like a pair of doves on a platter.
Lord, help me…
Chapter 4
There is hardly a man in England with a secret I cannot unearth with the exasperating exception of Geoffrey, Lord Larken. The baron has proven to be a vexing mystery, but I refuse to give up.
A recent addition to The Bachelor Chronicles
A fter dinner, the ladies made their requisite departure for the green salon, and Tally found her elbow in the viselike grip of her sister.
Well, she’d known there was going to be hell to pay for coming down to dinner dressed like this, but really, she thought as she glanced at her sister’s tight expression, it was Felicity’s own fault. Not that her twin would accept the blame.
Still, knowing the best course was to wait out the first wave of complaints, Tally dutifully let herself be led along the long hallways, teetering atop her borrowed high-heeled shoes.
Oh, the dress fit splendidly, but the shoes pinched and were far too high for her less-than-graceful gait.
Though that bit of pain didn’t keep her from smiling over Mr. Ryder’s obvious discomfiture—not that Felicity had noticed. No, her sister had remained blissfully unaware of the man’s distress over her pestering questions, while Tally saw all too clearly he had no desire to marry.
Not when every time her sister mentioned the word “bride,” he’d twitched as if he’d been stuck with one of Aunt Minty’s knitting pins.
So what the devil was the man doing here if he didn’t want to be matched? Surely if he’d grown cold feet over the prospect, he would have merely sent his regrets and not set a foot into the duchess’s house party, family obligations or not.
The question became: Why had Mr. Ryder come here?
That was the mystery, one that piqued Tally more than she cared to admit.
Having waited patiently at the foot of the stairs throughout dinner, Brutus came trotting up to his mistress, giving her a sharp salute in the form of a single yip , and then fell in step alongside her, his little tail wagging happily at their reunion.
When they entered the salon, Lady Charles and Minerva made a discrete beeline to the card table in the far corner, while Lady Geneva sat down in a solitary chair near the fire. Without even looking, she reached down and picked up her embroidery, most likely having been positioned precisely by her maid, who was rumored to be as exacting as her mistress.
With similar efficiency, Felicity ordered the tea tray, waited patiently the four seconds until Staines removed himself and closed the door, before turning to Tally quicker than Brutus after a squirrel.
“What am I to do?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Well, I—” Tally began, a little confused, for she’d expected a harangue over her choice of gown.
“He’s a dullard!” she declared, throwing up her hands and pacing in front of Tally. “Did you listen to him at dinner?”
“Well, I—I—I—”
“I thought not. Good gracious heavens, Tally, you could have at least tried to converse with the man?”
“Yes, well—”
“Were you attending at all?” Felicity asked, not really looking for an answer, for she continued with the next breath, “The weather, Tally! The weather! All the man could speak upon was the weather. Cumulous this, and some nonsense about rain all next week. Rain!” Felicity shuddered. “What a terrible thing to be saying to a hostess on the eve of her first house party.”
Tally closed her eyes to try and get this all straight. Felicity was upset about the weather?
At her feet, Brutus made a snuffling sound and when she glanced down at him, the little dog shook his ruffled head as if he were just as confused.
Her sister’s pacing came to a quick halt, her foot a mere hair’s breadth
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