Read Online In Praise of Younger Men by Jaclyn Reding - Free Book Online
Authors: Jaclyn Reding
Ads: Link
was blond, angelically so, with a smile that seemed to come easily. He wore his suit of clothes well, but he wasn’t as tall as Tristan, or nearly as handsome.
“Do you happen to know his age, my lady?” Devorgilla asked discreetly.
“His age you say?” Lady Harrington thought. “Hmm, well, I believe he is five-and-thirty. Two-and-thirty at the very least.”
“Indeed.” Harriet quickly crossed him off her mental list of candidates. “Has he perhaps any younger brothers?”
The viscountess looked at Harriet quite as if she’d just asked for her family’s secret pudding recipe. “I do not believe so,” she answered a bit uncertainly. “I believe he is the only child.”
She brightened a moment later. “Now there’s another favorable candidate just coming into the room.”
Harriet looked, spotting a tall figure turned out like Tristan in formal black. Favorable, indeed, he had the look of a rogue, and Harriet noticed several of the young ladies nearby whispering about him. His eyes raked the room, catching Harriet’s gaze. He smiled, flashing white teeth, and nodded to her.
“Ooh, and he’s definitely taken notice of you, dear. Anthony would be quite a catch. A viscount in his own right. Although his earlier years were a bit
risqu�, his father did the right thing in sending him off to the Continent to fight against Napoleon. He nearly fought at Waterloo, too, except that by the time his regiment made it there, the battle had already been won.”
Harriet nodded, thinking that Tristan
had
fought at Waterloo, and quite courageously if Geoffrey were to be believed. “Has this Anthony yet reached twenty-eight?”
Again the viscountess looked puzzled. “Yes, I believe he has. Very recently, though.”
Harriet turned, dismissing the roguish viscount who’d almost made it to Waterloo as well. She looked around the rest of the room, and soon focused on the figure of a man standing nearest the garden doors. He was dressed neatly, not too ornate, and his boots displayed an admirable polish. According to the instructive pages of
A Reflection on Refinement
, this was considered a well-regarded quality in a man. His sandy-colored hair and dimpled smile gave him a somewhat boyish appearance, which caused Harriet to consider him all the more closely.
“That young man there, standing by the doors. Do you know him, my lady?”
The viscountess smiled somewhat wistfully. “Why, yes, dear, that is my husband’s nephew, Sir Duncan Harrington, Baronet.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper.
“But I’m afraid I must save you the trouble and the time. He wouldn’t do for you for a suitor. You see, his father has left him quite without financial prospects, which is why my husband and I have taken him under our protection. We are hoping to convince him to pursue a career in the law.”
“Oh, money is of no matter to me, Lady Harrington. My father has scads of it.”
Lady Harrington stared at her, stunned. “He has . . . I mean, it isn’t?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Harriet assured her.
On to other matters
. “How old is he?”
“He is six-and-twenty, dear. Just turned.”
Harriet brightened. Things were finally beginning to look up. “I should like to meet your nephew sometime.”
It took Lady Harrington a full half-minute to respond. “You wish to meet him? Duncan? My nephew? Oh, my dear, why of course!”
She turned to face the room. “
Dunnn-cannn
!” Her voice rang out clear as a town crier, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn and stare. “Do come and meet our charming new neighbor!”
Standing with Geoffrey by the drinks table, Tristan caught sight of Harriet as she was making her way across the ballroom. In the first moment, he was taken aback— she looked absolutely stunning. He almost didn’t recognize her, and probably wouldn’t have if Devorgilla hadn’t been walking beside her. Her radiant hair was pinned up high on her head, showing off the elegance of her neck—and the
“Do you happen to know his age, my lady?” Devorgilla asked discreetly.
“His age you say?” Lady Harrington thought. “Hmm, well, I believe he is five-and-thirty. Two-and-thirty at the very least.”
“Indeed.” Harriet quickly crossed him off her mental list of candidates. “Has he perhaps any younger brothers?”
The viscountess looked at Harriet quite as if she’d just asked for her family’s secret pudding recipe. “I do not believe so,” she answered a bit uncertainly. “I believe he is the only child.”
She brightened a moment later. “Now there’s another favorable candidate just coming into the room.”
Harriet looked, spotting a tall figure turned out like Tristan in formal black. Favorable, indeed, he had the look of a rogue, and Harriet noticed several of the young ladies nearby whispering about him. His eyes raked the room, catching Harriet’s gaze. He smiled, flashing white teeth, and nodded to her.
“Ooh, and he’s definitely taken notice of you, dear. Anthony would be quite a catch. A viscount in his own right. Although his earlier years were a bit
risqu�, his father did the right thing in sending him off to the Continent to fight against Napoleon. He nearly fought at Waterloo, too, except that by the time his regiment made it there, the battle had already been won.”
Harriet nodded, thinking that Tristan
had
fought at Waterloo, and quite courageously if Geoffrey were to be believed. “Has this Anthony yet reached twenty-eight?”
Again the viscountess looked puzzled. “Yes, I believe he has. Very recently, though.”
Harriet turned, dismissing the roguish viscount who’d almost made it to Waterloo as well. She looked around the rest of the room, and soon focused on the figure of a man standing nearest the garden doors. He was dressed neatly, not too ornate, and his boots displayed an admirable polish. According to the instructive pages of
A Reflection on Refinement
, this was considered a well-regarded quality in a man. His sandy-colored hair and dimpled smile gave him a somewhat boyish appearance, which caused Harriet to consider him all the more closely.
“That young man there, standing by the doors. Do you know him, my lady?”
The viscountess smiled somewhat wistfully. “Why, yes, dear, that is my husband’s nephew, Sir Duncan Harrington, Baronet.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper.
“But I’m afraid I must save you the trouble and the time. He wouldn’t do for you for a suitor. You see, his father has left him quite without financial prospects, which is why my husband and I have taken him under our protection. We are hoping to convince him to pursue a career in the law.”
“Oh, money is of no matter to me, Lady Harrington. My father has scads of it.”
Lady Harrington stared at her, stunned. “He has . . . I mean, it isn’t?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Harriet assured her.
On to other matters
. “How old is he?”
“He is six-and-twenty, dear. Just turned.”
Harriet brightened. Things were finally beginning to look up. “I should like to meet your nephew sometime.”
It took Lady Harrington a full half-minute to respond. “You wish to meet him? Duncan? My nephew? Oh, my dear, why of course!”
She turned to face the room. “
Dunnn-cannn
!” Her voice rang out clear as a town crier, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn and stare. “Do come and meet our charming new neighbor!”
Standing with Geoffrey by the drinks table, Tristan caught sight of Harriet as she was making her way across the ballroom. In the first moment, he was taken aback— she looked absolutely stunning. He almost didn’t recognize her, and probably wouldn’t have if Devorgilla hadn’t been walking beside her. Her radiant hair was pinned up high on her head, showing off the elegance of her neck—and the
Similar Books
