Read Online The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) by Meara Platt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Meara Platt
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disappeared from view. “We’re doomed, Nicola. I knew she was beautiful, but I never thought it possible for anyone to be so exquisite. Not even I would choose me over her.”
“Hah! You’re much prettier than she is and it’s obvious that Julian thinks so, too.” Nicola wrapped her arm in Rose’s as they walked together toward the concert area, where seats had been set out and flower garlands and silk bows decorated the prettily fashioned bowers.
Rose sat beside her parents and tried her best not to fidget during the interminable concert. Nicola’s brother and his goddess sat in the same row but across the center aisle from them so that Rose had a clear view of his profile as he stared straight ahead at the Winthrop daughters standing on the raised dais.
Having been admonished twice already by her mother to stop fidgeting, she withdrew her small pencil and dance card from her silk reticule. There was to be dancing after the concert but Rose had no intention of participating yet, nor would anyone be signing her card. She began to aimlessly sketch on it.
Nicola’s brother happened to be the perfect subject, for he was not only handsome but artistically appealing. He had the sort of features that would make for a spectacular portrait—a rugged, manly face with enough smooth lines and angles to appear refined and yet enough raw, male features to remind one of a medieval warrior. Battle hardened but not coarse. After all, Lord Emory had served many years battling Napoleon on the Peninsula.
“What are you doing?” her mother whispered, leaning over to have a peek.
Rose tried to draw the card away, but saw by her mother’s expression that she was too late. “You told me not to fidget. So I’m drawing instead.”
“My dear,” her mother said gently, “you’ve captured him perfectly.” She paused a moment to let out a long breath.
Rose understood the meaning of her mother’s forlorn sigh. “I know, Mama. I do find him fascinating, but he’s in love with someone else. I won’t allow my heart to be engaged.”
Her mother patted her hand. “I’m afraid you lost your heart to him that very first day. That’s how it happens with Farthingales. One look and they know. But all hope is not lost. Despite appearances, I think he may be beguiled by you as well.”
Rose couldn’t help letting out an oinkish snort in response to her mother’s comment. Of course, the sound drifted across the center aisle to reach Lord Emory’s ears. He turned to stare at her, and then his expression softened and she saw the crinkle at the corners of his eyes just before he gave her a rakish smile.
Her mother gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Most interesting.”
The man may have smiled at her, but he was going to undress for his countess tonight and propose to her by the end of the month unless she, Nicola, and the entire Emory family succeeded in changing his mind. Crumpets, what a coil! Would he still like her after she abducted him?
The discordant sounds of Melissa Winthrop’s harp filtered through Julian’s ears with as much charm as metal grinding on metal. Was everyone else struggling not to wince? Or was he the only one who considered the sound offensive to his ears?
Usually, he slipped away during these tedious recitals. But not this evening. He’d taken the first seat in a center aisle so that he could stretch his long legs, but his position also offered him a clear view of Rose and that was a problem.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl.
He studied her through hooded lids. Discreetly, of course. Too much was at stake to do otherwise. He had to feign disinterest until he found that man at the top of Napoleon’s ring of English traitors, the one who could bring down the Prince Regent and his family and deliver England into the little Corsican’s hands.
Valentina had her usual death grip on his arm, for she considered him one of her possessions and no one would share him until she was ready to move
“Hah! You’re much prettier than she is and it’s obvious that Julian thinks so, too.” Nicola wrapped her arm in Rose’s as they walked together toward the concert area, where seats had been set out and flower garlands and silk bows decorated the prettily fashioned bowers.
Rose sat beside her parents and tried her best not to fidget during the interminable concert. Nicola’s brother and his goddess sat in the same row but across the center aisle from them so that Rose had a clear view of his profile as he stared straight ahead at the Winthrop daughters standing on the raised dais.
Having been admonished twice already by her mother to stop fidgeting, she withdrew her small pencil and dance card from her silk reticule. There was to be dancing after the concert but Rose had no intention of participating yet, nor would anyone be signing her card. She began to aimlessly sketch on it.
Nicola’s brother happened to be the perfect subject, for he was not only handsome but artistically appealing. He had the sort of features that would make for a spectacular portrait—a rugged, manly face with enough smooth lines and angles to appear refined and yet enough raw, male features to remind one of a medieval warrior. Battle hardened but not coarse. After all, Lord Emory had served many years battling Napoleon on the Peninsula.
“What are you doing?” her mother whispered, leaning over to have a peek.
Rose tried to draw the card away, but saw by her mother’s expression that she was too late. “You told me not to fidget. So I’m drawing instead.”
“My dear,” her mother said gently, “you’ve captured him perfectly.” She paused a moment to let out a long breath.
Rose understood the meaning of her mother’s forlorn sigh. “I know, Mama. I do find him fascinating, but he’s in love with someone else. I won’t allow my heart to be engaged.”
Her mother patted her hand. “I’m afraid you lost your heart to him that very first day. That’s how it happens with Farthingales. One look and they know. But all hope is not lost. Despite appearances, I think he may be beguiled by you as well.”
Rose couldn’t help letting out an oinkish snort in response to her mother’s comment. Of course, the sound drifted across the center aisle to reach Lord Emory’s ears. He turned to stare at her, and then his expression softened and she saw the crinkle at the corners of his eyes just before he gave her a rakish smile.
Her mother gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Most interesting.”
The man may have smiled at her, but he was going to undress for his countess tonight and propose to her by the end of the month unless she, Nicola, and the entire Emory family succeeded in changing his mind. Crumpets, what a coil! Would he still like her after she abducted him?
The discordant sounds of Melissa Winthrop’s harp filtered through Julian’s ears with as much charm as metal grinding on metal. Was everyone else struggling not to wince? Or was he the only one who considered the sound offensive to his ears?
Usually, he slipped away during these tedious recitals. But not this evening. He’d taken the first seat in a center aisle so that he could stretch his long legs, but his position also offered him a clear view of Rose and that was a problem.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl.
He studied her through hooded lids. Discreetly, of course. Too much was at stake to do otherwise. He had to feign disinterest until he found that man at the top of Napoleon’s ring of English traitors, the one who could bring down the Prince Regent and his family and deliver England into the little Corsican’s hands.
Valentina had her usual death grip on his arm, for she considered him one of her possessions and no one would share him until she was ready to move
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