Read Online Gift of Desire by Samantha Kane, Kate Pearce - Free Book Online
Authors: Samantha Kane, Kate Pearce
Tags: Romance
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gasp.
Miss Peasbody was
old
. And unwed. And unwanted.
“Certainly one would think with your bloodlines that some gentleman would come up to scratch,” Lady Dalrymple mused unkindly. “The Carlton-Smythe connection alone is enough to forgive any deficiencies in character or looks.”
Vanessa pasted on a brittle smile. She’d forgotten Lady Dalrymple was Miss Dorsett’s great aunt. Which reminded her, where was her Aunt Grace? Her job as chaperone was to help Vanessa avoid situations just like this. “It does seem to make a difference,” she agreed coolly. “Dancing and coy artlessness are not required of a woman in my circumstances. My name alone recommends me, as good breeding, impeccable manners and intelligence are understood in any Carlton-Smythe.”
Lady Dalrymple was not so stupid that she didn’t recognize the censure in Vanessa’s words. Other than a thinning of her already thin lips, however, she did not acknowledge the set down. “Surely a man requires more than a name, my dear. It might be enough to attract, but to secure him you must display the warmth and sensibility that a man wishes for in a wife. Wit, dancing, intelligent conversation are all required to keep a man’s attentions.”
Vanessa gave Lady Dalrymple the coldly blank look she had achieved at a young age, after rigorous training with her mother. The look reserved especially for those who did not know their place when addressing a Carlton-Smythe. “A Carlton-Smythe has no need to snare a man through posturing, Lady Dalrymple. While some young ladies,” she glanced over at Miss Dorsett, laughing a little too loudly while she was spun around the dance floor, “feel a less refined manner will attract and secure, it is not required of me.”
“Perhaps the handsome Duke of Ashland would argue that point.” Lady Dalrymple drove that nail home with undisguised malicious pleasure. “Her Grace is well-known as a lively young woman who enjoys dancing and laughing and the pleasures to be found in such endeavors.”
Vanessa took a quiet, dignified, deep breath. Of course Lady Dalrymple would bring up The Incident. “Then His Grace was quite right when he felt we would not suit. As I have said to Ashland,” she used the familiar address to show she was intimate with the Duke and Duchess while Lady Dalrymple was not, “if he had not behaved so badly when he broke our engagement, neither of us would enjoy the happiness we do today.” She inwardly cringed. Happiness, indeed. She hardly knew what the word meant these days.
“If you will excuse me, Lady Dalrymple, I believe I see my aunt. Good evening.” Vanessa hurried in the direction of her Aunt Grace, whom she’d spotted gossiping near the far end of the room. She passed the dance floor on her way to her aunt’s side, and noticed Miss Dorsett was no longer displaying her dancing and wit there. She caught her aunt’s eye and the small, older woman excused herself from her companion and stepped forward to greet her niece.
“Is something the matter, my dear?” she asked quietly, taking Vanessa’s hand and tucking it in her elbow as she slowed Vanessa’s steps to a stately walk around the room’s perimeter. To most observers it most likely seemed as if the two had met deliberately to stroll around the room and chat.
“I was ambushed,” Vanessa said softly as she smiled politely at Mrs. Crusher and her two daughters. The girls were rather plain but very sweet and well dressed, ensuring at least one offer for each of them this season, Vanessa was sure. She always made it a point to show her approval of them when they met. The opinion of a Carlton-Smythe was enough to sway many families in favor of a match they might not have sought otherwise.
Her smile grew brittle as they passed the Crushers and strolled into enemy territory. Lady Dalrymple now stood with her sister and grandniece, Miss Dorsett’s grandmother and mother, all three glaring at Vanessa and her aunt.
“I saw.
Miss Peasbody was
old
. And unwed. And unwanted.
“Certainly one would think with your bloodlines that some gentleman would come up to scratch,” Lady Dalrymple mused unkindly. “The Carlton-Smythe connection alone is enough to forgive any deficiencies in character or looks.”
Vanessa pasted on a brittle smile. She’d forgotten Lady Dalrymple was Miss Dorsett’s great aunt. Which reminded her, where was her Aunt Grace? Her job as chaperone was to help Vanessa avoid situations just like this. “It does seem to make a difference,” she agreed coolly. “Dancing and coy artlessness are not required of a woman in my circumstances. My name alone recommends me, as good breeding, impeccable manners and intelligence are understood in any Carlton-Smythe.”
Lady Dalrymple was not so stupid that she didn’t recognize the censure in Vanessa’s words. Other than a thinning of her already thin lips, however, she did not acknowledge the set down. “Surely a man requires more than a name, my dear. It might be enough to attract, but to secure him you must display the warmth and sensibility that a man wishes for in a wife. Wit, dancing, intelligent conversation are all required to keep a man’s attentions.”
Vanessa gave Lady Dalrymple the coldly blank look she had achieved at a young age, after rigorous training with her mother. The look reserved especially for those who did not know their place when addressing a Carlton-Smythe. “A Carlton-Smythe has no need to snare a man through posturing, Lady Dalrymple. While some young ladies,” she glanced over at Miss Dorsett, laughing a little too loudly while she was spun around the dance floor, “feel a less refined manner will attract and secure, it is not required of me.”
“Perhaps the handsome Duke of Ashland would argue that point.” Lady Dalrymple drove that nail home with undisguised malicious pleasure. “Her Grace is well-known as a lively young woman who enjoys dancing and laughing and the pleasures to be found in such endeavors.”
Vanessa took a quiet, dignified, deep breath. Of course Lady Dalrymple would bring up The Incident. “Then His Grace was quite right when he felt we would not suit. As I have said to Ashland,” she used the familiar address to show she was intimate with the Duke and Duchess while Lady Dalrymple was not, “if he had not behaved so badly when he broke our engagement, neither of us would enjoy the happiness we do today.” She inwardly cringed. Happiness, indeed. She hardly knew what the word meant these days.
“If you will excuse me, Lady Dalrymple, I believe I see my aunt. Good evening.” Vanessa hurried in the direction of her Aunt Grace, whom she’d spotted gossiping near the far end of the room. She passed the dance floor on her way to her aunt’s side, and noticed Miss Dorsett was no longer displaying her dancing and wit there. She caught her aunt’s eye and the small, older woman excused herself from her companion and stepped forward to greet her niece.
“Is something the matter, my dear?” she asked quietly, taking Vanessa’s hand and tucking it in her elbow as she slowed Vanessa’s steps to a stately walk around the room’s perimeter. To most observers it most likely seemed as if the two had met deliberately to stroll around the room and chat.
“I was ambushed,” Vanessa said softly as she smiled politely at Mrs. Crusher and her two daughters. The girls were rather plain but very sweet and well dressed, ensuring at least one offer for each of them this season, Vanessa was sure. She always made it a point to show her approval of them when they met. The opinion of a Carlton-Smythe was enough to sway many families in favor of a match they might not have sought otherwise.
Her smile grew brittle as they passed the Crushers and strolled into enemy territory. Lady Dalrymple now stood with her sister and grandniece, Miss Dorsett’s grandmother and mother, all three glaring at Vanessa and her aunt.
“I saw.
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