Read Online Red Rose by Mary Balogh - Free Book Online Page A

first, and was pleased to see that she was making an effort to be agreeable. As he had hoped, she and Axby seemed to be dealing well together. The girl apparently had sense. She must realize that she could not aim much higher and was prepared to consider his suit. And Axby looked very interested. He had certainly seemed undeterred when Raymore had explained to him that the girl could not dance because she was lame.
    And indeed, Raymore thought, for someone like Axby she was a prize. She looked quite handsome tonight in the richly colored gown and her hair dressed that way. “A red, red rose” flashed through his mind, and he looked at her curiously as the orchestra tuned up again and Axby bent over her hand, saying his farewells. Tonight it was not so impossible to imagine that rich contralto voice as belonging to her.
    Before Raymore had a chance to select another partner who might not object too strongly to sitting out a dance and talking to his ward, he noticed that Sir Bernard Crawleigh was standing before her. Raymore turned his attention to Sylvia, checking her partner for this dance. Standen’s younger brother was leading her out for a quadrille. Raymore almost smiled. Was Standen trying to protect his interests by cutting out as many rivals as possible? He must have instructed his brother to dance with Sylvia. The two brothers were as different as day and night. Nigel Broome had none of the advantages of his brother, neither height, nor looks, nor confidence.
    Rosalind was explaining to Sir Bernard why she could not dance. “To put it bluntly, sir,” she said, looking frankly into his eyes, “I am crippled and have been ever since I had a riding accident at the age of five. Oh, I can walk,” she assured him as his eyes strayed to her feet, “but only with a rather bad limp.”
    He smiled. “I wondered why you have been sitting here all evening, ma’am,” he said. “May I join you?”
    “If you really want to,” she replied, “though I would not have you feel obliged to do so. I see several young ladies who look very eager to dance.”
    He grinned and sat down beside her. “This evening cannot be much fun for you,” he said. “Are you here by choice or do I detect the heavy hand of Raymore in this? I can well imagine him playing the tyrant.” Rosalind smiled conspiratorially and found herself conversing quite easily with him for the next half-hour. She surprised herself. She was usually markedly self-conscious in the company of young men, especially ones as handsome as Sir Bernard, with his dark wavy hair, dancing brown eyes, and very charming smile. As she talked, she began to see how she might best put into effect her plan to teach her guardian a lesson. She certainly could not put it off much longer and was becoming quite agitated at the thought.
    When the music stopped she smiled at her companion. “It is excessively hot in here, sir. Would you escort me to the balcony for a breath of air?”
    Sir Bernard did not immediately reply. “The balcony is across the room from us, ma’am,” he said, “across an empty dance floor. Would you be embarrassed to have all eyes upon you as you walked?”
    Rosalind flushed. She would be extremely embarrassed but bad decided that this plan was one sure way of convincing Raymore to send her back home. At least she would never again have to face any of these people. “I perceive that you  would be embarrassed to be seen with me,” she said.
    He smiled slowly. “On the contrary,” he said. “Do you know, Miss Dacey, I have a sister who is constantly into mischief. You remind me of her at the moment. You are up to something, are you not? Now, what is it?”
    Her eyes twinkled back at him for a moment, but her heart was also beating uncomfortably fast. “Shall we go?” she asked, rising to her feet and extending an arm to take his.
    The guests, congregated around the edge of the dance floor in small groups, gradually found their attention caught by the