Major Westhaven's Unwilling Ward. Emily Bascom
Читать онлайн книгу.
a handsome gentleman to whisk you away?’ Kitty, two years her junior and the liveliest of the little group of ladies Lily called her friends, came forward, eyes sparkling. ‘There are many here tonight, for sure.’
‘Have you seen anyone in particular?’
Kitty considered, head on one side. ‘No one as handsome as my Tom, of course. But I have just made the acquaintance of a very dashing gentleman, or, should I say, he made mine. I had fancied him the perfect husband for you at first, but he’s ancient—definitely over thirty. Nevertheless, he seems awfully eager to meet you, so I promised to facilitate the introductions—do come along!’
Lily hid a smile. ‘Ancient indeed.’ She frowned. ‘Why does he wish to meet me?’
Kitty rolled her eyes. ‘Because he is enraptured by your beauty, of course!’
‘He said that?’
‘He had no need to!’
‘Kitty, really.’ Lily ran her hands over her gown, knowing it could not hope to approach the cutting-edge fashion displayed within by the confident, wealthy daughters of the ton.
The younger girl flashed her a wide smile. ‘Forgive me—I am just so excited that the Season is begun at last! Surely this year we shall find you a husband!’
Lily shook her head indulgently. What would Kitty say if she knew the resolutions she had made earlier tonight? And yet, could she not allow herself to hope, surrounded by all this glitter and style, that she would find love along with her much-needed husband?
Such dreams were foolish, she knew. Yet, though she was older than many of her similarly unmarried peers, she could still feel, occasionally, the girlish thrill of a handsome man paying her attention. This year she had looked forward, despite herself, to the round of balls and parties. There was peace to be found in trivial things: chatting with her friends, discussing which gentleman was most handsome, and dancing her way through the long summer nights helped her forget the darker thoughts she experienced, and her fears for the future. These past few years had not been easy ones, the last in particular heavy with sadness.
Kitty, who had been snapped up by the dashing Lord Stanton almost as soon as she had made her début last Season, always tried her best to cheer her, however. Despite her married status, Lily increasingly thought of her as a younger sister—and the girl was regarding her now with approval. ‘You do look lovely tonight, Lily. I am quite jealous.’
Lily looked down at herself, touched at the compliment. ‘You are kind to say so.’ She smiled. ‘But you know you have nothing to be jealous of.’ Small and girlishly lovely, with abundant shining dark hair and huge brown eyes, Kitty had a dramatic effect on men, who seemed to want to sweep her up and protect her. Her husband had faced stiff competition before he had at last carried away his prize.
Kitty grinned impishly. ‘Come, let us go in so you can flirt with Major Westhaven. He looks like he could do with cheering up.’
Lily sighed. ‘Honestly, Kitty!’
‘I will go and fetch him. Count to ten, then follow me.’
‘Very well.’ Lily could not help smiling at her friend’s flair for the dramatic.
She lingered on the steps up to the terrace, patting her hair to make sure it was in place and pinching some colour into her cheeks. If this man was as attractive as Kitty said, she wished to make a good impression, ancient or not.
Then, carrying herself with all the grace she could muster, she stepped inside the ballroom.
‘Ah, Miss Pevensey, there you are!’ Kitty was on her at once, with a naughty wink, laying a hand on her arm. ‘I was just telling the Major you could not have gone far.’
Lily smiled. ‘I was just outside, Lady Stanton, taking some…air…’
She faltered as her eyes fell on the man who stood beside and slightly behind her friend. She should have been prepared—it was obvious, thinking about it now, who the man who so wished to meet her would be.
It was the mysterious stranger whose eyes had followed her so insistently all night.
Close up, his looks were just as striking, the contrast between his dark hair and lighter eyes only highlighting the fact. Ancient he was certainly not, but Kitty had been right—he must be at least a decade older than Lily’s own twenty-one years; his face bore the look of a man who had seen much, experienced life.
Taking all this in, she realised that his eyes—somewhere between blue and grey—were watching her with an odd expression in them once more, almost as if he knew her. And yet Lily was sure she had never beheld this almost indecently handsome man before tonight. Surely she would have remembered?
What she did remember, however, was the mocking salute with his glass, and his dismissive attitude to the merrymaking about him.
She forced herself to smile, though he was still staring.
‘Liliana, may I introduce you to Major Daniel Westhaven?’ There was a girlish excitement in Kitty’s eyes that amused Lily, even as she smiled politely. ‘Major, my good friend, Liliana Pevensey.’
‘Major.’ Lily held out her hand. He took it in strong, warm fingers and bowed over it, eyes still on her face.
All at once her hand was suffused with an odd, tingling warmth that spread up her arm and deep into her belly. There again was that curling attraction, reaching across the space between them, making her feel most peculiar inside. Exasperated with herself for her reaction—let alone the knowledge that she was flushing an alluring shade of pink—Lily hastily withdrew her hand, chastising herself inwardly. Just because he was the best-looking man she had seen in a long time did not mean she should behave like she was still in petticoats! Looks, as she had seen earlier this evening, could cover all manner of other vices, and she hated rudeness and snobbery above all things.
Where had he sprung from, all of a sudden, to torment her so?
‘The Major is back with us after the war in America,’ Kitty informed her, as if sensing the unspoken question.
Lily’s eyes widened even as she captured and buried, through long practice, the stab of painful misery the very mention of those words awoke in her. She half-frowned at her friend, wishing Kitty had thought to warn her, even as she nodded carefully, composing herself invisibly, talking herself back into the persona of the carefree, effervescent lady she must be tonight.
She smiled up at the man before her. ‘The fighting was finished a year ago, my lord,’ she said lightly. She looked at him through her lashes, ever so slightly flirtatious, the way she had practised endless times in front of the mirror, thinking of Kitty and quashing her pride. ‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’
‘I have a house in the country,’ he said, voice deep and rich, yet measured somehow, as if he was careful with his words. ‘I have found little occasion to come to town these few years.’
‘Yet now you join us.’ She allowed the corners of her mouth to tilt up alluringly, while her eyes told him how she really felt. ‘We are fortunate, my lord.’
She knew he had not missed the sarcasm under her cool exterior. Something crossed his face that looked very much like displeasure, but was hidden again so fast that Lily could not be sure.
‘Oakridge is very beautiful, so I hear,’ said Kitty helpfully. ‘My mother has never forgotten the balls your parents used to give, my lord.’
‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘Well, it has been some time since I had visitors.’
‘We could redress that for you,’ Kitty told him, touching his arm conspiratorially. ‘You should have a ball—would that not be delightful, Miss Pevensey?’
Lily, swiftly stifling a grin at her friend’s daring, nodded. ‘It would indeed be most enjoyable, my lord.’
He smiled tightly. ‘I would be honoured to