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Authors: Nicole Jordan
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yet rise earlyenough to meet with Maura before she left on her morning ride, he needed to retire now.
But he wouldn’t allow himself to be drawn into his sister’s absurd theory about playing Cinderella’s prince, Ash vowed. He would help Maura Collyer recover her cherished stallion and that would be the end of it.
Maura woke at
her usual early hour the next morning, feeling groggy and bleary-eyed. She’d spent a mostly sleepless night tossing and turning and stewing over her course of action regarding her beloved horse.
After last evening’s disaster with the odious Lord Deering, she knew she had to regroup. More aggravatingly, when she’d finally managed to doze off, she couldn’t prevent herself from dreaming about a much more appealing nobleman. Even now, she found herself dwelling on the stunning kisses Lord Beaufort had given her, remembering the bewitching taste of him, the sensuality of his illicit caresses—
With a groan, Maura cut off the seditious memory and buried her face in her pillow, highly vexed with herself. Deciding she might as well rise, she climbed out of bed and performed her ablutions, then began donning her riding habit. A brisk ride before breakfast should help to clear her mind. And with luck, she might encounter Lord Deering. She had it on good authority that he rode Emperor in the park on somemornings, although her two previous efforts to intercept him there had failed.
She was attempting to button the back of her shirtwaist when her bedchamber was invaded by her two smiling stepsisters, no doubt eager to hear about the ball.
Hannah and Lucy were both garbed in frilly pink dressing gowns that unfortunately did nothing to flatter their somewhat plump figures. Both girls, Maura surmised, must have inherited their straight brown hair, brown eyes, and round features from their father, since their mother was a raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Indeed, Priscilla’s beguiling loveliness was the prime attraction that had lured Maura’s own father into matrimony.
The girls also lacked their mother’s refinement and social skills. Lucy, the youngest at seventeen, was a pert chatterbox, while the shier nineteen-year-old Hannah had a generous nature, which she promptly exhibited when she noted Maura’s struggle with the buttons.
“Here, let me help you,” Hannah offered kindly, while Lucy launched into a spate of questions.
“Was the ball very grand, Maura? How many guests attended? How many times did you dance? Did you waltz? What was Lady Katharine wearing? Was her gown as beautiful as your amber one?” Lucy paused her prattle to take a breath. “I vow that gown you wore last night was the most beautiful one I have ever seen in my whole life.”
Maura sighed inwardly. She had little desire to be dragged into evaluating last night’s fashions or her scarcity of dance partners. But her stepsisters were likepuppies seeking affection, and she couldn’t turn them away.
They perched on her bed while she did her best to report on the details that would interest them. And when she had tied the laces of her half boots and slipped on her riding jacket, they followed her downstairs to the breakfast room, where a light repast awaited her, supplied by the cook who had worked faithfully in the Collyer household since Maura was a child, and who knew exactly how to tempt her appetite when she was so preoccupied with her precious horses that she would have forgotten to eat.
At least she needn’t worry about encountering her stepmother just now. Priscilla rarely rose before ten o’clock, especially after a late evening, which evidently had been the case last night. Thankfully, Pris had still been out when Maura arrived home from the ball, and so had avoided any more bitter rows regarding the cost of Seasons and unlawful sales of stallions.
At the conclusion of Maura’s recount of the ball, Lucy gave a dreamy sigh. “I should have loved to attend,” she confessed. “Mama was angry that
But he wouldn’t allow himself to be drawn into his sister’s absurd theory about playing Cinderella’s prince, Ash vowed. He would help Maura Collyer recover her cherished stallion and that would be the end of it.
Maura woke at
her usual early hour the next morning, feeling groggy and bleary-eyed. She’d spent a mostly sleepless night tossing and turning and stewing over her course of action regarding her beloved horse.
After last evening’s disaster with the odious Lord Deering, she knew she had to regroup. More aggravatingly, when she’d finally managed to doze off, she couldn’t prevent herself from dreaming about a much more appealing nobleman. Even now, she found herself dwelling on the stunning kisses Lord Beaufort had given her, remembering the bewitching taste of him, the sensuality of his illicit caresses—
With a groan, Maura cut off the seditious memory and buried her face in her pillow, highly vexed with herself. Deciding she might as well rise, she climbed out of bed and performed her ablutions, then began donning her riding habit. A brisk ride before breakfast should help to clear her mind. And with luck, she might encounter Lord Deering. She had it on good authority that he rode Emperor in the park on somemornings, although her two previous efforts to intercept him there had failed.
She was attempting to button the back of her shirtwaist when her bedchamber was invaded by her two smiling stepsisters, no doubt eager to hear about the ball.
Hannah and Lucy were both garbed in frilly pink dressing gowns that unfortunately did nothing to flatter their somewhat plump figures. Both girls, Maura surmised, must have inherited their straight brown hair, brown eyes, and round features from their father, since their mother was a raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Indeed, Priscilla’s beguiling loveliness was the prime attraction that had lured Maura’s own father into matrimony.
The girls also lacked their mother’s refinement and social skills. Lucy, the youngest at seventeen, was a pert chatterbox, while the shier nineteen-year-old Hannah had a generous nature, which she promptly exhibited when she noted Maura’s struggle with the buttons.
“Here, let me help you,” Hannah offered kindly, while Lucy launched into a spate of questions.
“Was the ball very grand, Maura? How many guests attended? How many times did you dance? Did you waltz? What was Lady Katharine wearing? Was her gown as beautiful as your amber one?” Lucy paused her prattle to take a breath. “I vow that gown you wore last night was the most beautiful one I have ever seen in my whole life.”
Maura sighed inwardly. She had little desire to be dragged into evaluating last night’s fashions or her scarcity of dance partners. But her stepsisters were likepuppies seeking affection, and she couldn’t turn them away.
They perched on her bed while she did her best to report on the details that would interest them. And when she had tied the laces of her half boots and slipped on her riding jacket, they followed her downstairs to the breakfast room, where a light repast awaited her, supplied by the cook who had worked faithfully in the Collyer household since Maura was a child, and who knew exactly how to tempt her appetite when she was so preoccupied with her precious horses that she would have forgotten to eat.
At least she needn’t worry about encountering her stepmother just now. Priscilla rarely rose before ten o’clock, especially after a late evening, which evidently had been the case last night. Thankfully, Pris had still been out when Maura arrived home from the ball, and so had avoided any more bitter rows regarding the cost of Seasons and unlawful sales of stallions.
At the conclusion of Maura’s recount of the ball, Lucy gave a dreamy sigh. “I should have loved to attend,” she confessed. “Mama was angry that
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