Read Online The spinster and the wastrel by Louise Bergin - Free Book Online Page B

at her side to claim his turn with her. "I believe this is our dance, Miss Courtney."
    The breathlessness Annette felt had nothing to do with the amount of unaccustomed dancing she had done. Still, she managed to respond, "Indeed it is, sir."
    Maybe it was the London tailoring that made him appear so elegant. Maybe it was the way the candlelight shadowed and illuminated the planes of his face. Maybe it was the smile that curved his lips that made her heart race faster. There was no time to study the phenomenon.
    When Sir Gerard extended his arm to escort her to the floor, she lightly placed her hand upon it. She was proud to be his partner. After all, he was a London gentleman, and a very elegant one at that. He knew the steps and guided her confidently but vigorously without breathing heavily. Once again, the discrepancy between his card-playing reputation and what she observed disturbed her.
    The dance moved too fast for her to gather her thoughts. The bits and pieces she knew about him whirled around with the same intensity as the reel she danced. Conversation was not possible as they switched partners in the set. Still, every time she glanced at him, he had a smile ready to bestow on her. The charm she had seen him use on his previous partners, he now lavished upon her twofold. Her feet flew beneath her skirts in the lively pattern of the reel, but her heart flew even faster.
    When the musicians struck the final notes of the reel, Annette panted to get her breath back. Sir Gerard looked as alert and elegant as ever. His starched cravat appeared in no danger of wilting. It was a talent surely cultivated by attending years of London parties.
    Annette plied her fan with more vigor than grace in an effort to cool herself. "Thank you for the dance."

    "You are a most pleasant partner. I find I am enjoying this Assembly far more than I expected." He offered his arm to lead her to the supper table.
    To avoid being distracted by the strength beneath her hand, she attempted to take him to task for his words. "You feared we were not as sophisticated as your London parties?"
    "You are not." Before she could bristle at the implied affront, he continued, "I think that is part of the attraction. One can have fun without worrying about one's place."
    "But surely, sir, you know we are all studying the new baronet in our midst so we can learn about London's ways and fashions."
    He laughed, and she was surprised at how flirtatious she felt. "I am far from being an arbitrator of society," he told her.
    "But here in Upper Brampton you are."
    Curious, he glanced at her. "Are you trying to convince me to stay, Miss Courtney?"
    The thought had not entered her mind, but now that he expressed it, she found she would be disappointed when he left. Not daring to speak such a thought, she plied her fan again. "Do you intend to stay?"
    A tense look crossed his face that she had no chance to study. He drew her attention to the array of food spread before them. Oranges from the hothouse stacked like pyramids lay between the plates of sliced ham and sweetmeat balls. Tender rolls of bread were piled on the serving platters. Sliced pineapple surrounded flaky lobster tarts.
    Impressed, Sir Gerard eyed the delicacies. "Miss Courtney, if this is a sample of how the people in Upper Brampton frolic, I will be very tempted to stay."
    She laughed at his reply, yet she wondered at the mo-

    mentary strained expression she had spotted when she had mentioned his returning to London.
    Displaying another one of the talents he must have learned during his London rounds, Sir Gerard lead her to a small table where only the two of them could sit.
    Once they were seated, Sir Gerard asked her, "Are you planning a trip to London soon?"
    She shook her head. "No. My school will keep me busy."
    "I would think a chance to shine in London would be a greater attraction than a village school."
    "The school has been a dream of mine for years. London has not."
    "I fear I must