Read Online The Birth of Blue Satan by Patricia Wynn - Free Book Online

dared to voice the most startling thought—not when Gideon Fitzsimmons was now an earl. But Hester could read condemnation in their arching brows. In this Whig assembly, with many of the gentlemen either peers or members of Parliament, St. Mars had no more friends than his father would have had.
    “Now, here’s a coil.” Mrs. Mayfield snatched the forgotten shawl from Hester’s hands. “ ‘Tis time we left.”
    “But, Mama—”
    Hester was relieved to hear her cousin’s protest, until Isabella finished— “I have promised five other dances, and Lord Kirkland to take supper with him.”
    For once, Hester was in complete sympathy with her aunt when she rounded on her daughter, hissing, “Foolish girl! Have you no notion of what has just occurred? We must hurry home to think this business through.” Grasping Isabella by the wrist, she bustled her party out, hardly stopping to thank their prostrate hostess.
    Inside the carriage, Isabella complained of the unfair treatment, but Mrs. Mayfield seemed deaf. Sitting in the dark, Hester could almost hear the mill-wheels churning inside her aunt’s head. Mrs. Mayfield waited, however, until they arrived at their rented house in Clarges Street before she referred to the evening’s episode.
    When she did, the direction of her speech took Hester completely by surprise.
    “How fine dear Sir Harrowby Fitzsimmons looked this evening,” she began, as Isabella and Hester followed her into the house. “We must be sure to invite him to dinner.”
    They crossed the vestibule quickly and mounted the stairs to the withdrawing room. In only a fraction of the time this took, Hester had understood the turn in her aunt’s thoughts. With anger poised on the edge of her tongue, she waited to see if Isabella would come to a similar conclusion.
    “But, Mama—” Isabella yawned as she pulled at the ribbon tied about her neck—”I thought you didn’t want me to encourage Sir Harrowby by showing him any particular regard.”
    “Nonsense, child,” Mrs. Mayfield clucked as she helped her daughter off with her cloak. “Sir Harrowby Fitzsimmons is as elegant a gentleman as the world has ever known. And if not for the fact that his prospects have not always been the best, why, he would be the very man I would pick for you myself. And so, I hope, he knows.
    “You mustn’t think,” she added, as she fussed about her daughter, tucking a curl behind her ear, “that Sir Harrowby’s hopes will be unduly raised by a simple request to dine. Why, all the world will be wanting him! For who else could explain this curious business between Lord Hawkhurst and his son?”
    Hester stared at her angrily, but Mrs. Mayfield’s gaze had fixed upon an invisible speck of mud on Isabella’s cloak. When Isabella, who seemed to have slipped into a state bordering on sleep, failed to react to her mother’s words, Hester decided she had no choice. She tried to speak as calmly as she could.
    “I should think you would wish to hear Lord St. Mars’s own account of any event that so regards him, ma’am.”
    “And so we shall, Miss Prig, if his lordship is free to make it.”
    Mrs. Mayfield’s affronted glance challenged her niece to put herself forward again, but the next question came from Isabella herself. “Why should St. Mars not be free to do anything he pleases, Mama? Isn’t he an earl now?”
    “Why not, indeed?” Of a sudden her mother bustled her towards the door. “We must all be tired if we’re thinking up such foolish questions. All the same, my dear, it might be wise if you was not to be seen with my Lord St. Mars for the time being.”
    Hester spoke wryly. “And what will his lordship think, if Isabella refuses him the attentions she has granted him so willingly in the past?”
    This question brought her aunt up short. Mrs. Mayfield paused with one hand still clutching her daughter’s arm to study the expression on Hester’s face, and a realization made her frown.
    “What will he