Read Online Elisabeth Fairchild by Captian Cupid - Free Book Online Page B

warmth.
    Fiona opened the door wide for them, with a squeal of unoiled hinges, releasing the tantalizing odor of baked ham, fresh bread and apple tarts, laced with the heady perfume and underlying conversational buzz of dozens of guests. She looked like a full blown apple blossom in a pretty white and pink gown.
    “Penny! Mr. Foster! Do come in,” she crd, catching at Penny’s hand as she stepped over the threshold. “You must make a point not to leave early, my friend. A very important announcement is to be made this evening.”
    “I will not leave until everyone knows of your impending nuptials,” Penny promised.
    Fiona stared, wide-eyed. “But how do you know? I have not told a soul outside of the family.”
    “Fiona. Everyone knows Theodore is completely smitten, and must eventually propose. I took the liberty of assuming nothing else could make you quite so happy.”
    “Oh!” Fiona laughed and gleefully gave Penny’s hand a squeeze. “I am deliriously happy. I would wish such happiness on every woman.”
     Penny thought of Cupid.
    I want everyone I know and love to share the moment,” Fiona gushed.
    “Even me?” Penny said, in mock surprise. “There will be those who condemn you for inviting me into polite society.”
    “Let them,” Fiona’s smile faded, but only for a moment. Such happiness was not to be overcome, indeed she laughed and said, “There are those who tormented me as a child, calling me fat Fiona, and little dumpling, and never you among them. They have all been invited. It never occurred to me to exclude you.”
    Penny tucked her arm into Fiona’s. “You are good to me. Does Theodore know what a lucky man he is?”
    A frown touched Fiona’s ample lips. “Will it be awkward, Penny, that I have invited Val? But perhaps a country hop is beneath him now that he has seen the world, and moves in fine company.”
    “Fine company?” Penny laughed. Who in the village would you call fine company?”
    “Why, his friend, Cupid. Son of a Viscount, Teddy tells me. Stands to inherit a fortune. And look! Here come our battle worn heroes, now!”
    Into the courtyard pulled the Wharton family coach, windows flashing with faces grown familiar: Valentine formal in buckish pomp, his companions splendid in brushed and polished uniforms.
    Cupid, son of a Viscount, no mistaking that shock of dark hair. His eyes met hers through the window as the horses drew to a halt. He looked glad to see her.
    Penny excused herself as the door swung wide, and withdrew, unwilling to meet in that moment either Valentine Wharton or his fine company.

    They disembarked swiftly, greeting the plump, beaming Fiona at the door. Alexander kept looking over her shoulder. He kept his how-do-you-dos brief.
    From the coach window he had seen Penny Foster, in a blue velvet dress, the purple cloak about her shoulders. He could see her now, just beyond the door, removing that cloak, fair hair pulled high on her head, blue velvet ribbon wound through the curls, fair tendrils clustered at the graceful nape of her neck. Beautiful. Desirable. As much of a mystery as the day they had met.
    It bothered him that she walked away, for as much as he enjoyed observing the enticing sway of her backside, he was sure she had seen him, and he did not like to think himself deliberately avoided.
    The farmhouse was a crush, guests shoulder to shoulder, and hip to hip. Everyone in Cumbria had come. Cheap cologne, and cloying toilet water proved at times eye-wateringly overpowering. Not so overwhelming, however, as observing the ripples in Miss Foster’s wake.
    This was the second time Alexander had watched her progress in public. As on Valentine’s day in the square, she created a stir.
    Women hunched their backs and turned away whispering, only to transfm themselves at his approach, smiling enthusiastically, turning like flowers to the sun. He found it odd, even obscene, for what was he to these females but a stranger just returned from battle,