Amy Lake by Lady Reggieand the Viscount Read Free Book Online

with some surprise that I learned the countess would be receiving visitors that morning, and that my presence was expected.
    “You must stay,” I begged Cassie, who made a face, but agreed.
    My mother’s usual time for social calls tends to the late afternoon, which has always suited me extremely well, as I can occupy myself for most of the day with little interference from her ladyship.  She was insistent on this occasion, and had given instructions to Primrose to pay particular attention to my dress—as I was just now learning.
     “Her ladyship wants the green batiste,” said the maid.
    Cassandra and I both groaned.  The green batiste was a disastrous combination of ruffles and bows that my dear friend refers to as ‘a millinery toadstool’—Miss Barre is not one to mince words—and out of the many gowns in my possession which do not suit me, this one suited me the least.
    The heavens only knew why it was a favorite of my mother’s.  I refused to put it on.
    Primrose was obdurate.  “Her ladyship says.”
    Cassie began to protest, but I surrendered to the inevitable.  Besides, what did it signify?  ’Twas likely to be only a few of the countess’s many acquaintances come by for a game of whist, which was the only activity that seemed to rouse my mother before noon.  Perhaps one of them might suggest, tactfully, of course, that her ladyship try a different approach in the matter of my dress.
    Cassandra had not given in.  “You really must insist that I be allowed to choose your gowns,” she muttered, as she rooted around in my writing desk for, as it turned out, a pair of scissors.
    “ What are you doing?”
    “I’m going to cut them off, of course,” said Cassie, advancing on my left shoulder, where one of two large bows was presently situated.
    “Oh, miss—” said Primrose, looking at the scissors. 
    Cassie ignored her, examining my shoulder from several angles.  “The countess dresses beautifully enough herself,” she said, “so I do not understand—”
    “Perhaps she thinks if the gown is ugly enough no-one will look at my hair.”
    The maid suppressed a giggle.  Cassandra glared at her.
    “Your hair,” she said, “is perfectly lovely.”
    “Perfectly frizzed.”
    “Stop spouting nonsense.”  The first bow was now gone and she had started in on the second.  The loss did not help the colour, but I had to admit the lines of the gown were improved.
    Cassandra was thoughtful, scissors still in hand.  “We’ve not enough time to cut off all the ruffles, I suppose,” she said.
    Primrose was scandalized.  I grinned.
    * * * *
     
    We noticed them at once, although it took a few moments before I fully grasped what I was seeing.  My mother and a group of four individuals, three ladies and one gentleman.  All of them fairly tall, beautifully dressed, and the two younger women oddly similar.
    My mind made the calculation and I blinked, biting back an exclamation of dismay. 
    Twins.  And the only twins I knew of, as of only a few weeks ago, were the sisters of the Viscount of Cardingham.
    It was he. 
    Cassandra whispered, “Good heavens, Reggie, it’s—”
    “I know ,” I hissed back at her, trying to smile at the same time.  The improved lines of the green batiste were abruptly inadequate, and I felt an itching in my feet, the impulse to turn and run.
    What would he think of me in this hideous dress?
    The countess was hurrying forward, beckoning us to join the group.
    “Regina!  Darling!  And Miss Barre as well, what a lovely surprise!”
    I heard Cassie’s stifled laugh; the countess rather disliked her, as we both knew.  Cassandra was too independent for my mother’s tastes.
    I somehow survived the introductions, alert for any sideways glances regarding the batiste.  I sensed none, thank heavens.  Lord Davies took my hand and kissed it, and for the next several minutes the skin burned where his lips had touched.
    The older woman was the dowager viscountess,