Bething's Folly by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online Page A

for a penny, in for a pound. Supper would take nearly an hour, at least, and he would enjoy this unique company while he could and worry about extricating himself later. He deserved that much of a reprieve, he felt.
    “Aunt Claudia would certainly be furious with me now, you know,” said the young lady, not appearing to worry over that at all. “She practically ordered me not to appear bookish to anyone, but, yes, Papa had me taught Greek, and Latin, and all the things he was taught.” The dimples reappeared. “Lest you think me unnatural, he also found someone to teach me embroidery!”
    Carleton laughed out loud, for the first time this evening, he realised. “Your father must have been an interesting man, Miss ... Miss...?”
    “Bethingame, Miss Elizabeth Bethingame. And you, sir?”
    “I ... I am still wondering why you were not in the ballroom.” Carleton redirected the conversation quickly, trying to cover his evasion. “You are obviously dressed for a ball, to be seen and admired, so why are you in the library? No one has offended you, I trust?”
    “Yes, you could easily be a knight come to rescue a lady in distress,” she said seriously, studying his face. Then she remembered his question. “This whole ball offends me! I know I must take Ellie’s gown out to be admired, but—No, I see you do not understand, and I am sure you do not wish to hear my problems. Yours must be equally as pressing, to remove you from the company in such a manner.”
    “No, I assure you, Miss Bethingame, my difficulties were only temporary. Please go on, perhaps I might find a way to be of assistance, shining armour or not.” He assumed she was going to confess something about straitened circumstances, borrowed clothes, an orphan’s plight. He smiled encouragingly.
    “How kind you are!” She gave him a grateful look, which aroused his sympathies even more, until she started to speak. “It’s those wretched Carletons and their highhanded summons, as though we were all cattle at auction, to be inspected by their lordling before purchase! Aunt Claudia pestered me to death—even threatening to call Uncle Aubry down on me—until I agreed to come. Then Ellie felt it would do her good, so I had to stand for endless fittings, wasting even more time. You see, Ellie is now Mademoiselle Elena, but she used to be my governess’s niece until my father sent her to study under Monsieur Blanc. She had so much talent it would have been wasted as a country seamstress. Now she is trying to establish a clientele in London, and if I was seen in one of her creations and—and took —it must reflect on her. Only I do not wish to be noticed, and I refuse to have anything to do with this—this shopping expedition to find Lord Alexander a proper wife.”
    Carleton’s anger was in danger of reaching epic proportions—at his family, all gossips in general, and this righteous little hell-cat in particular. Thinking to take her down a peg, he asked, “What makes you think that Lord Carleton would be so interested in you that you have to hide in the library?”
    “I am not hiding, merely waiting for the proper moment.” Her chin went up and her eyes flashed. “Carleton would be interested in the Folly, all right, unless he is a ninny like the rest of them out there. That is Bething’s Folly,” she went on, fiercely, proudly, “the finest stud farm in the county and soon in the country.”
    Carleton’s anger was replaced by amazement. The girl was so unselfconscious she didn’t even realise what a stir she herself would make, reserving her pride for a piece of property. Now he placed the name, and the Folly, and was interested indeed! Old Lord Bethingame had been a completely indifferent farmer but an avid horseman, not for hunting but for racing. He had visions of the scientific selection of studs and mares, improved conditions for foaling and training colts, champion lines of winning horses and dynasties of expensive offspring. He