Read Online Major Lord David by Sherry Lynn Ferguson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sherry Lynn Ferguson
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him.” At Hayden’s ironic tone and slight
bow, Billie’s gaze was upon him once more.
“You would have me believe that your brother, Lord David,
must `soldier on’?”
“Certainly not. He follows his inclinations.”
“Oh, that is too obvious! You might tell him for me, my
lord, when you happen to see him, that I am determined he
will not see me!”
Her temper merely drew a grin, and she left the alcove with
a great deal of pride and no real satisfaction.
Two days later, on Saturday the fourth of March, Billie celebrated her nineteenth birthday with dancing and supper for
almost sixty guests. She had little doubt that her imagined
link to Lord David and the house of Braughton had much to
do with the perfect attendance, because she simply had not
been in town long enough to encourage many beyond a few
old school friends. Thus, the group was a most curious mix of
those few young misses from Mrs. Seton’s boarding school,
her brothers’ variable acquaintance, and a range of younger
ladies and some gentlemen in the charge of Aunt Euphemia’s
circle. That Lords Hayden, Demarest, Knowles, and several
other pinks of the ton deigned to appear at short notice assured the gathering much-elevated cachet. Their presence
could only feed the accepted speculation regarding Billie’s
prospects.
Lord Hayden’s graceful presence in her home on such an
occasion, and just after the coveted vouchers to Almack’s had
arrived, had sent Ephie into the boughs. Indeed, Billie suspected that her aunt’s satisfaction had led her to forget the reason for hosting such a supper party-namely, her niece’s
birthday. Billie wondered wryly if she might slip away entirely, leaving the assemblage to bask in the Marquis of Hayden’s splendor. Instead she moved on to another dance and
watched anxiously for Kit’s arrival. He had promised, to the
extent that he was ever capable of promising, that he would
not forget her birthday. But Kit had ever been Kit.
When her partner, the Earl of Windover, future brother-inlaw to Lord Demarest, asked if anything were wrong, Billie
forced herself to rally. She smiled as she denied any troubles
at all, and was still making an effort to smile as Major Trent
entered the doorway from the hall.
She missed the next step and immediately apologized. She
had to rely upon Windover, a very skilled partner, to see her
through the remainder of the dance, as her attention was so entirely fixed upon the unexpected scarlet coat and broad shoulders at the hall door. She could not meet David’s gaze. But she
felt the relief of knowing he was well.
Hayden had to have told him of the event, though it puzzled
her that David should not have come with his brother’s entourage. Had he just arrived? Billie’s gaze at last sought his.
But he was speaking animatedly with two young ladies, two
of Billie’s newest acquaintances, May Sanders and Charis
Athington. Billie did not truly feel at ease with either, but she
was too new to town to be overly particular, and both were
deemed excellent ton. May Sanders was an admired beautya petite blond who trailed a wake of suitors whatever the venue.
Her friend, tall and elegantly stylish Charis Athington, was reputed to be the catch of the season-wealthy, lovely, and with
every proper connection. The perfect Miss Athington was at
that moment gazing raptly up into Major Trent’s face.
Billie bit her lower lip.
“Miss Caswell.” Lord Windover was frowning. “You are
certain you are quite well? Perhaps we should sit out the rest
of this set”
“No-no, my lord. This tune nears its end. I am only a bit
thirsty. I shall take some punch at the break”
In truth she was parched. In truth, she felt she had been
dancing for days without end. The room seemed very crowded
and extremely hot, though all the fires had been lit earlier to
ward off the pervasive March chill.
The dance ended. Billie thanked her patient partner. She
wished only
bow, Billie’s gaze was upon him once more.
“You would have me believe that your brother, Lord David,
must `soldier on’?”
“Certainly not. He follows his inclinations.”
“Oh, that is too obvious! You might tell him for me, my
lord, when you happen to see him, that I am determined he
will not see me!”
Her temper merely drew a grin, and she left the alcove with
a great deal of pride and no real satisfaction.
Two days later, on Saturday the fourth of March, Billie celebrated her nineteenth birthday with dancing and supper for
almost sixty guests. She had little doubt that her imagined
link to Lord David and the house of Braughton had much to
do with the perfect attendance, because she simply had not
been in town long enough to encourage many beyond a few
old school friends. Thus, the group was a most curious mix of
those few young misses from Mrs. Seton’s boarding school,
her brothers’ variable acquaintance, and a range of younger
ladies and some gentlemen in the charge of Aunt Euphemia’s
circle. That Lords Hayden, Demarest, Knowles, and several
other pinks of the ton deigned to appear at short notice assured the gathering much-elevated cachet. Their presence
could only feed the accepted speculation regarding Billie’s
prospects.
Lord Hayden’s graceful presence in her home on such an
occasion, and just after the coveted vouchers to Almack’s had
arrived, had sent Ephie into the boughs. Indeed, Billie suspected that her aunt’s satisfaction had led her to forget the reason for hosting such a supper party-namely, her niece’s
birthday. Billie wondered wryly if she might slip away entirely, leaving the assemblage to bask in the Marquis of Hayden’s splendor. Instead she moved on to another dance and
watched anxiously for Kit’s arrival. He had promised, to the
extent that he was ever capable of promising, that he would
not forget her birthday. But Kit had ever been Kit.
When her partner, the Earl of Windover, future brother-inlaw to Lord Demarest, asked if anything were wrong, Billie
forced herself to rally. She smiled as she denied any troubles
at all, and was still making an effort to smile as Major Trent
entered the doorway from the hall.
She missed the next step and immediately apologized. She
had to rely upon Windover, a very skilled partner, to see her
through the remainder of the dance, as her attention was so entirely fixed upon the unexpected scarlet coat and broad shoulders at the hall door. She could not meet David’s gaze. But she
felt the relief of knowing he was well.
Hayden had to have told him of the event, though it puzzled
her that David should not have come with his brother’s entourage. Had he just arrived? Billie’s gaze at last sought his.
But he was speaking animatedly with two young ladies, two
of Billie’s newest acquaintances, May Sanders and Charis
Athington. Billie did not truly feel at ease with either, but she
was too new to town to be overly particular, and both were
deemed excellent ton. May Sanders was an admired beautya petite blond who trailed a wake of suitors whatever the venue.
Her friend, tall and elegantly stylish Charis Athington, was reputed to be the catch of the season-wealthy, lovely, and with
every proper connection. The perfect Miss Athington was at
that moment gazing raptly up into Major Trent’s face.
Billie bit her lower lip.
“Miss Caswell.” Lord Windover was frowning. “You are
certain you are quite well? Perhaps we should sit out the rest
of this set”
“No-no, my lord. This tune nears its end. I am only a bit
thirsty. I shall take some punch at the break”
In truth she was parched. In truth, she felt she had been
dancing for days without end. The room seemed very crowded
and extremely hot, though all the fires had been lit earlier to
ward off the pervasive March chill.
The dance ended. Billie thanked her patient partner. She
wished only
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