Read Online The Wolfe Wager by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson
Ads: Link
added, “Not only my uncle, but my friend Sir Wilbur, for example. His prattling about your charms last evening was endless. I know how he eagerly anticipates your gathering this evening.”
She pressed her hand to her bodice, but clasped her fingers in her lap when she noticed Lord Brickendon’s gaze following every motion. “That is kind of you to say.”
“What were you doing here?”
“I had thought to call on Lord Mendoff on a concern for my father’s estate.” She nearly stumbled on each word of the half-truth, knowing that he was gauging everything she said. “I had no idea such an innocent visit would turn so dark. Whatever will Aunt Carolyn say?”
“You needn’t worry about that fine lady or any other person learning of this day’s misadventure.” He folded his arms on the open window. “I shall convince my uncle of the good sense of saying nothing of the matter, which I am sure he will be eager to keep as quiet as you would wish.”
“Thank you again for …” She was not sure what she could say without adding more fire to her suddenly burning face.
“My pleasure, but one I hope I need never repeat.” He slapped his hand on the side of the carriage to let her driver know she was ready to leave.
Vanessa whispered, “I hope so, too.”
She leaned back against the seat. Closing her eyes, she was amazed when Lord Brickendon’s uncompromising features filled her mind. She shivered. It was likely she would meet the devilishly handsome viscount again during the flurry of entertainments at the Season’s end. She hoped, by then, she would have devised something to say to him without setting her cheeks to flame again … or her heart to pounding with pleasure.
Chapter Five
Penelope Downing prided herself on being a creature of habit. Every morning, she rose exactly at the stroke of ten. She enjoyed her breakfast in her breakfast-parlor with its enchanting view of the tiny garden behind her Grosvenor Square town house. Her housekeeper received Penelope’s instructions each day at precisely thirty minutes before noon. For the next hour daily, Penelope gave her complete attention to the abigail’s ministrations to her light brown hair and her vast wardrobe. Before the church bells chimed two, she was about on her calls or receiving on the days she was at home. She always was waiting to greet her husband when he returned from his ride about the Park just as the clock on the mantel chimed six. With him, she enjoyed an evening of entertainment with the ton .
That exacting schedule explained Lady Carolyn Mansfield’s nearly speechless incredulity when Penelope was shown into her small blue sitting room before one the next afternoon. With her beribboned poke bonnet positively quivering with agitation, Penelope offered Carolyn a swift smile as she crossed the flowered rug and sat on the white silk chair next to where Carolyn was ringing hastily for refreshments.
“Dear Penelope, whatever is distressing you?” Carolyn asked, unable to curb her curiosity. She would sooner have expected Napoleon to come calling than Penelope arriving before two.
“Not distress, but happiness.” Her full lips rounded into a moue, which countermanded her words. With a sigh, she bent her full form to pick a piece of straw from the hem of her sedate yellow gown. The ribbons dropping from her bodice would have better suited a girl half her age.
Carolyn laughed. “Mr. Porter is ever a doting husband. Now that his wife has given him a son, there shall be no end to his overindulgence. I fear everyone on the Square will be driving over straw for weeks to come.”
“I appreciate the respite from the clatter of carriage wheels as much as the new mother.” Penelope’s usual smile appeared as a maid approached with a tray of sweetmeats and a steaming pot of tea. “I was saying to dear Samuel just last evening how pleasant it was not to be bothered by the passage of carriages under our window. He suggested that the straw
She pressed her hand to her bodice, but clasped her fingers in her lap when she noticed Lord Brickendon’s gaze following every motion. “That is kind of you to say.”
“What were you doing here?”
“I had thought to call on Lord Mendoff on a concern for my father’s estate.” She nearly stumbled on each word of the half-truth, knowing that he was gauging everything she said. “I had no idea such an innocent visit would turn so dark. Whatever will Aunt Carolyn say?”
“You needn’t worry about that fine lady or any other person learning of this day’s misadventure.” He folded his arms on the open window. “I shall convince my uncle of the good sense of saying nothing of the matter, which I am sure he will be eager to keep as quiet as you would wish.”
“Thank you again for …” She was not sure what she could say without adding more fire to her suddenly burning face.
“My pleasure, but one I hope I need never repeat.” He slapped his hand on the side of the carriage to let her driver know she was ready to leave.
Vanessa whispered, “I hope so, too.”
She leaned back against the seat. Closing her eyes, she was amazed when Lord Brickendon’s uncompromising features filled her mind. She shivered. It was likely she would meet the devilishly handsome viscount again during the flurry of entertainments at the Season’s end. She hoped, by then, she would have devised something to say to him without setting her cheeks to flame again … or her heart to pounding with pleasure.
Chapter Five
Penelope Downing prided herself on being a creature of habit. Every morning, she rose exactly at the stroke of ten. She enjoyed her breakfast in her breakfast-parlor with its enchanting view of the tiny garden behind her Grosvenor Square town house. Her housekeeper received Penelope’s instructions each day at precisely thirty minutes before noon. For the next hour daily, Penelope gave her complete attention to the abigail’s ministrations to her light brown hair and her vast wardrobe. Before the church bells chimed two, she was about on her calls or receiving on the days she was at home. She always was waiting to greet her husband when he returned from his ride about the Park just as the clock on the mantel chimed six. With him, she enjoyed an evening of entertainment with the ton .
That exacting schedule explained Lady Carolyn Mansfield’s nearly speechless incredulity when Penelope was shown into her small blue sitting room before one the next afternoon. With her beribboned poke bonnet positively quivering with agitation, Penelope offered Carolyn a swift smile as she crossed the flowered rug and sat on the white silk chair next to where Carolyn was ringing hastily for refreshments.
“Dear Penelope, whatever is distressing you?” Carolyn asked, unable to curb her curiosity. She would sooner have expected Napoleon to come calling than Penelope arriving before two.
“Not distress, but happiness.” Her full lips rounded into a moue, which countermanded her words. With a sigh, she bent her full form to pick a piece of straw from the hem of her sedate yellow gown. The ribbons dropping from her bodice would have better suited a girl half her age.
Carolyn laughed. “Mr. Porter is ever a doting husband. Now that his wife has given him a son, there shall be no end to his overindulgence. I fear everyone on the Square will be driving over straw for weeks to come.”
“I appreciate the respite from the clatter of carriage wheels as much as the new mother.” Penelope’s usual smile appeared as a maid approached with a tray of sweetmeats and a steaming pot of tea. “I was saying to dear Samuel just last evening how pleasant it was not to be bothered by the passage of carriages under our window. He suggested that the straw
Similar Books
