Babe by Joan Smith Read Free Book Online

wonder who gave her that reading of my character. It wouldn’t do to suggest it was yourself.”
    “‘A trifle headstrong’ is the phrase I used, but then, she knows you are not completely English.” They chatted with no altercation till they reached the city.
    “Where does Lady Angela live?” Barbara asked. “We are to pick her up, you said.”
    “No, no, she does not come with us. She goes with her mother. We’ll see her there.”
    Barbara thought that if she were Clivedon’s girl friend, she would have something to say about this arrangement. Lady Angela, she assumed, was built of sterner, or more polite, stuff than herself.
    No time was wasted to find Angela once they had been announced. He walked directly to her side. “You are acquainted with my cousin, Lady Barbara, I think?” he asked her.
    The two ladies had met casually several times over the years, for they had both been on the town for some time. Though they were each daughters of an earl, each youngish and attractive, they had never been more than nodding acquaintances. Angela was not precisely a prude. She was fashionable, and a good horsewoman, but she held herself rather high. She had never been to a masquerade, and had no desire to attend one. Almack’s was her preferred spot for socializing, and while it was very prestigious socially, it had a reputation for dullness.
    “We have met,” Angela allowed, and offered her hand with a smile that was polite without showing the least warmth.
    A quick appraisal of toilettes took place between the two, with Barbara wishing she had worn white—so well it looked against Angela’s dark coloring. But it made herself look like a ghost. Angela thought it was time she abandoned white and broke into some livelier hues. She was sick to death of white.
    Clivedon’s duty was to stand up with one of them and find an escort for the other. His preference, which he had soon translated into a duty, was to partner the lady he had escorted to the ball, but Lady Angela had put a hand on his arm in a very possessive manner, and disengaging himself proved difficult. The whole happened so quickly it was no more than a fleeting thought.
    A young gentleman hurried forward to make his bows to them while they were still saying good evening to each other. He was Lord Ellingwood, a cousin of Angela’s and considered one of her court, though he did not, in fact, care any more for her than she cared for him. They were of the same age, and thus the lady found him a child and he thought of her as an older woman. It was in Barbara’s direction that he was smiling shyly. Being somewhat a backward fellow, he was strongly attracted to comets, the more dashing the better. He was not ill-favored. He was tall and well enough built, with a passingly handsome face that one was inclined to forget as soon as he left the vicinity. Of much more importance than all this, he was a baron and he was in possession of a good fortune that was likely to become better when his two aunts departed the world. He asked for permission to accompany Lady Barbara for the opening minuet. With no visible disappointment, she accepted.
    She found him remarkably dull, but her disappointment faded when she saw Colonel Gentz across the room. She had not the least suspicion he would be here, and for a few weeks he had been her closest companion. She wanted to regale him with the tales of her recent trials. She had thought he would be at Burrells’ with Fannie and Bagstorff, and even if he remained behind, she would not have expected to meet him at such a proper do as this. But she was happy to see him walking towards her at a brisk pace as soon as the dance was over.
    “Babe!” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Where the devil have you been hiding yourself all week-end? I went around to Withers’, but learned you were not there as Fannie thought. Lady Withers mentioned someone called Graham, but couldn’t give me the address.”
    Babe rapidly