Read Online The Waltzing Widow by Gayle Buck - Free Book Online Page B

said, bowing her head in acquiescence. The earl seated himself. Almost instantly she became acutely aware of his nearness when the masculine, clean scent of sandalwood wafted about her. She discovered that her usual self-possession had unaccountably deserted her. She could not imagine what was wrong with her. She hoped that she was not coming down with a fever, for she felt first warm, then cold, then warm again. Her eyes returned to the dancers because her mind had gone completely blank for want of something to say.
    Lord Kenmare had followed her gaze, and he thought that he knew what so completely absorbed her attention. “Your daughter is very lovely. I do not think that I have ever seen her without an accompanying crowd of admirers, yet she appears to handle the attention quite modestly,” he remarked.
    Lady Mary turned toward him, all her inhibitions forgotten in her enthusiasm for her daughter's accomplishment in taking so easily to high society. “She is doing well for a first Season, isn't she? I had hoped that she would, though because of her naiveté, I had wondered whether I should bring her out this Season or wait another year.” She gave a rueful laugh as her gaze turned once more to the sight of her daughter going gracefully down a country set. “However, I was at a distinct disadvantage in deciding against her come-out this Season, since Abigail is aware that at sixteen I was wedded and already a mother."
    Lord Kenmare glanced at the lady beside him, trying to imagine a young girl much like Abigail Spence with a babe in her arms. He found it impossible. With disapprobation he eyed the matron's turban that Lady Mary wore. Lady Mary Spence hardly appeared old enough to be an aunt, let alone the mother of two grown children. On the thought, he said, “I believe that I have recently met your son, Lady Mary. Is he Ensign William Spence? A steady-looking lad with a winning smile that quite appeals to the opposite sex, or so my sister informed me."
    Lady Mary laughed. Mischief gleamed in her eyes, and the resemblance to the young gentleman that the earl had remarked on was unmistakable. “That is William, certainly. He is the very likeness of his father, with all his sire's charm. It was that selfsame smile that first attracted me to William and Abigail's father. Roger would have been proud to see them both now.” It occurred to her that she must be boring the earl with her prosing. “I do apologize, my lord! I did not mean to drone on about my children, as wonderful as I do think them. Tell me, what do you think of Bonaparte's advances? I hear everywhere that there is not the least cause for worry, and yet I cannot but wonder. The Duke of Wellington is still in Vienna, and though I am certain that we may have every confidence in the Prince of Orange as our acting commander-in-chief, he is young and perhaps rather ... excitable."
    "You are observant, my lady. The prince's experience is slight and his natural confidence leads him to conclude that he can meet Bonaparte on that gentleman's own terms. I understand that General Sir Edward Barnes, the adjutant general, and Sir Hudson Lowe, our quartermaster, have their hands busy in keeping the prince's enthusiasm from running away with him.
    "But hopefully, his grace the Duke of Wellington will arrive in good time to place a firm guiding rein on his young protégé. Otherwise we may be in for something of a wild ride,” Lord Kenmare said, only half in jest.
    Lady Mary looked at him gravely. “Then it is your considered opinion that we will soon be at war again, my lord?"
    The earl hesitated for the space of a second. “It is, my lady. As an intimate of the Duke of Brunswick, I am in a position to hear much that is not of general knowledge."
    "I am not thrilled to hear my own private fears confirmed, as you may imagine,” Lady Mary said quietly.
    Lord Kenmare nodded. “Yes, I understand. I myself have several friends who shall be in the thick of it. It is