A Growing Passion by Emma Wildes Read Free Book Online Page A

family resemblance. This evening she wore a pretty yellow gown, her dark blond hair twisted into an elegant chignon.
    “I don’t know him.” Her glass half empty now, Cecily took a gulp.
    “He certainly acted in a familiar manner.”
    As if that was her fault. It was a pity most of her champagne had been splashed on her person, for Cecily could have used some sustenance at this moment.
    “He’s from the colonies,” one of her friends said, as if that explained the man’s outré behavior. “Everyone is talking about it. He’s very . . . different.”
    “So provincial,” another one murmured, languidly moving her fan, her eyes narrowing as she followed his progress through the throng, his height making him easily visible. “So unfashionably dark, as well. Is it true his mother was of mixed blood? I’m told she was half savage and half French. What a combination. Earl Savage is somewhat of a mongrel, is he not?”
    If the young lady thought so, she still seemed to watch his tall form move through the crowd with feminine interest.
    Cecily noticed she wasn’t the only one. All the females in the ballroom—at least every one she could see—seemed to find the earl quite interesting.
    “It’s obvious he’s not English, one merely has to look at him. But for all that, he is intriguingly handsome,” Miss Felicia Hasseleman declared. “And by all accounts quite rich. His questionable heritage aside, he isn’t a bad prospect. But I hear he isn’t interested in marriage. Not a first for him either. I understand he has an illegitimate child and brought her with him from America. He openly acknowledges the little girl but refused to marry her mother.”
    That was rather shocking.
    “Even wealth and an earldom cannot make up for that ,” Mary Foxmoor, whose father was a baronet and owned about half of Sussex, said with a sniff. “I would never consider a man who forced me to accept his by-blow. It’s . . . distasteful. No, he is not a suitable prospect.”
    Ah, that subject again. Cecily couldn’t help but experience a surge of annoyance that overshadowed her embarrassment over what had just happened. They all had a single purpose: to find a man with a title and a fortune. It might be a romantic and idealistic way to look at it, but Cecily wished to choose a husband for reasons other than his bloodlines and wealth.
    And, though she would never say so out loud because it would be repeated everywhere, she did have some admiration for him since he didn’t disdain his own flesh and blood and pretend the little girl didn’t exist just because she wasn’t legitimate. Cecily had no idea what the circumstances were that prompted Lord Augustine to decline to play the gentleman and wed the mother of his child, but she knew that many so-called gentlemen sired children on their mistresses and tucked them away on distant estates––or sometimes didn’t even take that much responsibility.
    “What did he say to you?” Eleanor asked, her gaze openly curious.
    There was no help for it. Another rush of warmth infused her cheeks as Cecily recalled his scandalous comment. Worse, a traitorous part of her wondered what it would be like to feel that finely modeled mouth graze her bare skin. . . .
    She shook her head in brisk refusal.
    “You aren’t going to tell us?” Felicity said indignantly.
    “No.” Cecily did her best to look bland. “It was nothing.”
    All of them exchanged glances. “You’re sure you don’t know Lord Augustine?” Miss Foxmoor asked with skepticism. “He actually whispered in your ear.”
    “We’ve never even been introduced,” Cecily said shortly, not willing to admit how unsettled that brief encounter had left her.
    “Well,” Eleanor said drily, “I think you’ve met each other now.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
     
    Emma Wildes grew up loving books, so turning to writing seemed a natural course. She has been a #1 bestselling author at Fictionwise, a WisRWA winner in historical romance, a