…”
“Really? What sort of scandal?”
“I don’t repeat gossip like that. The poor man
suffered a great deal over it …”
“Too late—you have already told me there was a
scandal. You must now follow through.”
“Not now … here comes Lord Byron!” Babs said
with a happy smile as she watched the poet’s approach. He was of
average height, and while some women thought him handsome, she did
not. His gait was hindered by a considerable limp. He was well
dressed, but not in the ‘dandy’ style. She smiled to herself, for
he appeared to the world as though he were bored, but she had
enjoyed his company enough to know it was not that … not at
all. She gave him a welcoming wave.
“Oh my, Babs, your father would be furious. Talk
about scandal—Byron has stirred up an entire volume of scandal. Why
they say—”
“Hush,” cautioned Babs. “It isn’t his fault. He is
totally misunderstood. He had a great affection for Lady Caro, who
really is naught but a doxy, one minute fawning over him, the next
burning his letters in public. Idiotic. ”
“Yes, but the rumors about him and Lady Caroline
Lamb are rife, and to be seen with him … my goodness. Babs,
they even say that he is in love with his half-sister,
Augusta … and …”
“Rumors will always follow greatness.” Babs shook
her head and then murmured, “Here he is … Do not give him that
sour face.”
She beamed and offered her hand. “My dear
Byron …” she said even as she watched Nick Barrington ride
away and out of sight.
***
Sir Edward Danton had watched the Lady Babs during
those first two weeks she enjoyed introducing her cousin to
society. She and Miss Bretton had certainly stirred up the beau
monde with their antics, but both seemed to be held in
affection.
He looked into the matter of the so-called
inheritance that Miss Bretton was rumored to have and discovered it
to be a hum. He was very good at finding out what he needed to
know. A magistrate’s clerk did not make enough to resist a few gold
coins, and he discovered that she had indeed inherited the whole of
her parents’ estate, but that it was modest.
He wasn’t sure how he could use the information he
had garnered, but he kept it in his mental files nonetheless.
Another matter had the beau monde wildly curious. Passion’s Seed sales had continued to grow, and both the
book and the mysterious author were the subject at many of the haute ton ’s gatherings. People wondered why the author never
made a public appearance or claimed ownership of the novel.
Whispers that it was a ‘cit’, or a merchant,
abounded. For fun, Sir Edward said that he rather thought it was
one of their own, and this took flight.
All this while, Sir Edward discovered that he was
losing ground with the woman of his desires. The more he pressed
his attentions on Lady Babs, the more she retreated.
He became thoroughly determined to press his
courtship to a successful conclusion, for he had quite made up his
mind she would be his. One way or another, she would be his. If she
did not accept … he could abduct her, compromise her, and
marry her, and if he had to he would resort even to that …
It was at Lady Abigail’s picnic that he managed to
wheedle her into a little walk and began telling her how he had
read Passion’s Seed .
“Oh, and did you enjoy it?” she asked.
“I found it interesting,” he said casually. “And
you … did you enjoy it?”
“I did, yes,” she said adding nothing further.
He looked at her. “Have you any ideas who the author
might be?”
“I? Why not at all.” She bit her bottom lip.
Sir Edward had noted some time ago that when Babs
spoke a fib, she would chew her bottom lip, and so he looked at her
with interest. “No?”
“No,” she answered and looked away.
“I do,” he said simply, if only to tease a smile out
of her for himself. It was very irritating to see her trying to
appear casual as she looked back at the picnic area, as
“Really? What sort of scandal?”
“I don’t repeat gossip like that. The poor man
suffered a great deal over it …”
“Too late—you have already told me there was a
scandal. You must now follow through.”
“Not now … here comes Lord Byron!” Babs said
with a happy smile as she watched the poet’s approach. He was of
average height, and while some women thought him handsome, she did
not. His gait was hindered by a considerable limp. He was well
dressed, but not in the ‘dandy’ style. She smiled to herself, for
he appeared to the world as though he were bored, but she had
enjoyed his company enough to know it was not that … not at
all. She gave him a welcoming wave.
“Oh my, Babs, your father would be furious. Talk
about scandal—Byron has stirred up an entire volume of scandal. Why
they say—”
“Hush,” cautioned Babs. “It isn’t his fault. He is
totally misunderstood. He had a great affection for Lady Caro, who
really is naught but a doxy, one minute fawning over him, the next
burning his letters in public. Idiotic. ”
“Yes, but the rumors about him and Lady Caroline
Lamb are rife, and to be seen with him … my goodness. Babs,
they even say that he is in love with his half-sister,
Augusta … and …”
“Rumors will always follow greatness.” Babs shook
her head and then murmured, “Here he is … Do not give him that
sour face.”
She beamed and offered her hand. “My dear
Byron …” she said even as she watched Nick Barrington ride
away and out of sight.
***
Sir Edward Danton had watched the Lady Babs during
those first two weeks she enjoyed introducing her cousin to
society. She and Miss Bretton had certainly stirred up the beau
monde with their antics, but both seemed to be held in
affection.
He looked into the matter of the so-called
inheritance that Miss Bretton was rumored to have and discovered it
to be a hum. He was very good at finding out what he needed to
know. A magistrate’s clerk did not make enough to resist a few gold
coins, and he discovered that she had indeed inherited the whole of
her parents’ estate, but that it was modest.
He wasn’t sure how he could use the information he
had garnered, but he kept it in his mental files nonetheless.
Another matter had the beau monde wildly curious. Passion’s Seed sales had continued to grow, and both the
book and the mysterious author were the subject at many of the haute ton ’s gatherings. People wondered why the author never
made a public appearance or claimed ownership of the novel.
Whispers that it was a ‘cit’, or a merchant,
abounded. For fun, Sir Edward said that he rather thought it was
one of their own, and this took flight.
All this while, Sir Edward discovered that he was
losing ground with the woman of his desires. The more he pressed
his attentions on Lady Babs, the more she retreated.
He became thoroughly determined to press his
courtship to a successful conclusion, for he had quite made up his
mind she would be his. One way or another, she would be his. If she
did not accept … he could abduct her, compromise her, and
marry her, and if he had to he would resort even to that …
It was at Lady Abigail’s picnic that he managed to
wheedle her into a little walk and began telling her how he had
read Passion’s Seed .
“Oh, and did you enjoy it?” she asked.
“I found it interesting,” he said casually. “And
you … did you enjoy it?”
“I did, yes,” she said adding nothing further.
He looked at her. “Have you any ideas who the author
might be?”
“I? Why not at all.” She bit her bottom lip.
Sir Edward had noted some time ago that when Babs
spoke a fib, she would chew her bottom lip, and so he looked at her
with interest. “No?”
“No,” she answered and looked away.
“I do,” he said simply, if only to tease a smile out
of her for himself. It was very irritating to see her trying to
appear casual as she looked back at the picnic area, as
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