Death Comes to London by Catherine Lloyd Read Free Book Online Page B

Harrington shivered. “Whoever thought a visit to a London ball would prove so exciting?”
    “Certainly not I, Miss Harrington. I knew there was a reason why I avoid the place. There are far too many people here whom I know.” Robert stood up and bowed. “I see your aunt talking to Broughton and Miss Anna at the door. If you will excuse me, I’ll take my leave before anything else can occur. Would you like me to escort you back to your party, or do you wish to stay here and save your seat?”
    “You’re leaving?”
    “Yes.”
    “When it is just getting exciting?”
    “I don’t have your stomach for such drama, Miss Harrington, and prefer to retire to my bed with a good book and a glass of port. I will, however, call on you and Mrs. Hathaway and expect to receive a full report of the rest of the night’s doings.”
    “Which I will be happy to supply.”
    He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Good night, Miss Harrington.”
    “Good night, Major.”
    He made his escape with as much speed as he could manage, avoiding both his acquaintances and the hostess, who would insist on introducing him to young ladies of character. In truth, he was exhausted and would willingly cede the field to Miss Harrington, who was obviously enjoying herself. He wasn’t surprised. She had always thrived in an environment full of excitement.
    Out on King Street he had a footman find him a hackney cab and went back to Fenton’s and the tender ministrations of Foley. In a few days he was meeting the Prince Regent’s secretary and he needed to be at his best for that.

Chapter 4
    “I knew she’d come,” Lucy murmured to Anna as Miss Chingford entered the drawing room of Clavelly House with her mother and at least two of her younger sisters. “She probably couldn’t bear to keep away. At least Major Kurland isn’t here.”
    Lucy surveyed Miss Chingford’s charmingly cut blue coat edged with swansdown and the matching muff. Peacock feathers curling around the poke of the bonnet framed her face, which wore the sour expression of curdling milk.
    Aunt Jane rose to her feet and went forward. “Mrs. Chingford, how lovely of you to call.”
    Miss Chingford’s gaze swept over Lucy and alighted on Anna and Julia, who were in the middle of a laughing crowd of young people that included at least one heir to a viscount and the youngest son of an earl. The sight seemed to afford Miss Chingford no pleasure. Ignoring her sisters, she moved forward into the group, pushing one young lady to the side and claiming her place beside the viscount’s heir.
    Lucy fought a smile and instead congratulated herself on Anna’s outstanding success. Several bouquets had been delivered to the house and a veritable shower of invitations that included both the Harrington sisters had also arrived. Lucy was well content with Anna’s debut and quietly hopeful for herself.
    Another newcomer entered the room and, as her aunt was still engaged with Mrs. Chingford, Lucy stepped forward.
    “Lieutenant Broughton, my ladies.” She curtsied to the dowager and a middle-aged woman who she assumed was the current countess and Broughton’s mother. “You are most welcome.”
    The lieutenant bowed. “Miss Harrington, may I present my mother and grandmother, the current and dowager countesses of Broughton?”
    The dowager snorted. “I’ve already met the gel. Now where’s the sister you’ve been bleating on about?”
    Broughton flushed. “Miss Anna Harrington is over by the window, Grandmother. I’ll take you over and introduce you right now.”
    Lucy wondered if she should accompany the pair as the dowager leaned on her grandson’s arm and tottered off across the room.
    “Miss Harrington? How are you this fine afternoon?”
    She turned to see Mr. Stanford smiling down at her. “Oh, Mr. Stanford, how nice to see you.”
    He bowed and held out a neat posy of violets. “I thought you might enjoy these.”
    She took the flowers and realized from the sudden heat