Anything but a Gentleman by Amanda Grange Read Free Book Online Page B

tremulously. ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’
    ‘Quite sure, Papa.’ She spoke briskly, to try and counteract the air of stagnation that hung about the room.
    ‘Miss Marianne looks beautiful tonight, does she not, my lord?’ prompted Lowe, her father’s valet, as her father made no comment on her appearance.
    ‘Marianne always looks very well,’ he said, without, however, taking any notice of her dress. ‘But you had better not go, Marianne. The roads are treacherous and there may be robbers and –’
    ‘I will be quite all right, Papa. I will have Tom to look after me. And tomorrow I will come and tell you all about it,’ said Marianne, cutting across his fretful protests. Then, giving him a last kiss, she made her way down to the hall and, donning her long gloves and travelling cloak, went out to the waiting carriage.
    Once she was comfortably settled, Tom took up the reins of the carriage, which had been specially polished for the occasion, and called to the horses, ‘Walk on.’
    It took a good half an hour to reach the Cosgroves’ house, but with a hot brick for her feet and a little silver flask for her hands, to say nothing of her cloak and muff, Marianne hardly felt the cold. She was enjoying being Miss Travis for once, and resolved that for this evening at least she would put all her duties out of her mind.
    When they were nearly there the carriage took a slight detour. Miss Stock, the rector’s sister, was to accompany Marianne as her chaperon. Having collected Miss Stock, they went on, finally pulling up in front of Mr and Mrs Cosgrove’s house. The house was ablaze with light. Flambeaux flickered outside, whilst chandeliers sparkled from within. As Marianne walked up the stone steps that led to the front door, followed by the good Miss Stock, she could hear the sound of chatter drifting into the night. She felt a wave of excitement. It was months since she had been to a ball, and she was looking forward to it.
    ‘Miss Travis! And Miss Stock.’
    The Cosgroves gave both ladies a warm welcome, and Marianne was soon at home. Having lived in the neighbourhood all her life she knew most of the people present, and was quickly introduced to everyone else.
    ‘Let me introduce you to Mr and Mrs Hurst,’ said Jennifer.
    Jennifer was Mr and Mrs Cosgrove’s bouncing sixteen-year-old daughter, who was delighting in the fact that her parents had finally allowed her to attend a ball.
    Mr and Mrs Hurst were charming.
    ‘And over there is Mr Windham,’ said Jennifer, as Mr and Mrs Hurst engaged Miss Stock in conversation. She gave an awed giggle. ‘Isn’t he divine?’
    Mr Windham looked over in their direction at that moment and Marianne could see why Jennifer was so impressed. Mr Windham was just the sort of gentleman to provoke a girlish fancy. His features were regular and his face was handsome, if bland.
    ‘But tell me, have you met Lord Ravensford yet?’ asked Jennifer, as Mr Windham turned his attention back to his own party.
    ‘Yes.’ Marianne was amused at the excitement in Jennifer’s voice.
    ‘Is he as wildly attractive as everyone says he is?’
    ‘Everyone?’ asked Marianne, using a teasing tone to covering up the fact that she was uncomfortable talking about Lord Ravensford. She was not sure what her feelings were towards him, and she was unwilling to talk about him until she had decided. On the one hand he had been very rude to her at their first meeting but on the other, he had seen to the matter of the mantraps, and he had taken care, whilst in her own home, to be polite; although even at his politest there was something distinctly unsettling about him.
    ‘Well, the Lenton girls, at least,’ said Jennifer, blissfully unaware of Marianne’s thoughts. ‘I’m just glad they aren’t here tonight, otherwise they would be simpering and flirting in the most dreadful way’
    Then, remembering her duties as a hostess, Jennifer led Marianne over to a long table covered in a snowy white