Colors of a Lady by Chelsea Roston Read Free Book Online Page B

yet transpired.
    Helena was absent, presumably off chatting
with Nathaniel. She may have denied it with her every breath, but
Helena was hopelessly in love with Lord Hedgeton. Some nights, when
Helena and Lettice visited her in the country, the three would
pilfer some wine from the cellar and drink merrily together. They
would stay up late into the night, whispering their dreams into the
night air and laughing until their bellies hurt. It was then that
Helena gushed, her cheeks red, how green his eyes were, like
sparkling jewels in the ivory marble that was his face. A sultan
would want to take his eyes to embed in his gilded palaces, she
insisted. Emma had commented that it would be a truly gruesome
event. Helena simply stuck out her tongue and continued listing off
his wonderful attributes. It was quite a list. Even Lettice had
grown annoyed with the ridiculousness of it all, imploring Helena
to stop.
    In any case, when the Season was concerned,
Helena was bound to be where Nathaniel was. He always accepted her
company and had even called upon her a few times with her brother’s
permission. Helena’s father had passed away two years ago, leaving
a wealthy widow and a twenty year old viscount. Her brother,
however, was far more conservative than the former Lord Mallory had
ever been. Even so, a marriage to an earl would be great for his
own social standing and Helena’s future. As far as the ton knew,
Lord Hedgeton had not yet offered for her hand.
    Emma wished to gossip with Lettice, but the
pain in her feet dictated she should seek a chair instead. She
spotted an empty settee near a group of hardened debutantes. Her
lip raised in a sneer upon seeing the glossy brown hair of Lady
Lavinia Worthing, a particular thorn in her side. She disliked Emma
immensely and the dislike had transformed into hate once Emma’s
betrothal to Lord Hartwell was announced.
    She had her own designs on him. But what
girl did not? Not only did he have the greatest inheritance and the
oldest title, but also he was good-looking without tending towards
foolishness or conceit. There were many wealthy men who were far
too enamored of themselves to seek out wives. It would be a slight
to their estimable looks. So to Lady Worthing, Emma was the worst
kind of debutante. Due to her family connection she easily became
betrothed without even having to do all the rounds of a regular
season. Most of the young ladies were torn between annoyance and
amazement at her quick rise to popularity.
    Jealous debutantes like Lavinia would not
stop Emma from finding a seat to rest. They had their backs to her
anyway. They probably would not even take notice of her. Emma
carefully sunk into the empty chair, sighing as the weight was
taken off her feet. She longed to fall back against the chair, but
that was simply not done in public. But this was a slight
reprieve.
    "I feel oh so bad for Lord Hartwell. My
mother is terribly upset at this development. She was certain that
Papa said Lord Hartwell was to be mine for sure this Season. Then
that upstart ensnared him. It is nothing but shameful. Where has
she been these years anyway?" Lavinia's unmistakable voice reached
her ears with little effort. Her volume was always louder than it
needed to be, even in a crowded ballroom.
    "When everyone else was to come out, she
opted to delay it for the country. It was an odd request and I am
surprised Lord Sheridan agreed to it." The speaker was some lesser
lord's daughter whose name Emma could not remember. She was average
in all matters: looks, accomplishments, and wealth. She attached
herself to the brighter star of Lavinia.
    "At that time, I heard rumours of a possible
indiscretion with a soldier. It is not out of the ordinary. Our
school was in a town where they kept prisoners of war." Emma could
not help but smile at the accusations that she had been
compromised. Though, this gossip came from the mouth of one who was
a well-known embellisher. She, this Mademoiselle La Roux, was