Gayle Buck by Hearts Betrayed Read Free Book Online Page B

She professed herself put out of all patience after attempting to entertain the glowering Lord Randol. “I mean to retire to my sitting room and swallow a headache powder,” she said.
    Lydia waited impatiently until Lady Basinberry had exited the drawing room, and turned instantly to her cousin. “Michele, I simply must know where you became acquainted with Lord Randol. Why, I have never seen such a look of astonishment on his face as when he saw you.’’
    “I do not know what you mean. His lordship did not seem at all put out of countenance,” Michele said evasively. She moved to the table and picked up a porcelain statuette, only to set it down again.
    “Cousin! Pray do not tease me,” begged Lydia. “I perceived instantly that you had met him somewhere, and you have admitted to it yourself. Pray tell me, for I shall die of curiosity otherwise. Was it in Brussels?”
    Michele debated a moment before she gave a reluctant nod. “Oui, it was in Brussels that I met Lord Randol. He was an officer and I had just come out into society.”
    Lydia clasped her hands in front of her modest bosom. “Oh, how exciting it all is! I saw at once how it was, of course. You were in love with him and something happened. That is why you exchanged such a look with his lordship. He was the cruelest of monsters and broke your heart,” Lydia said, thoroughly charmed by her imaginings.
    “What foolishness you talk!” Michele said sharply. She was already deeply upset by the encounter with Lord Randol, and her cousin’s blithe words had an odd effect on her. She took a quick turn about the drawing room. “It was not at all like that. It was an enchanted time of balls and frantic excitement. One was swept up in the magic. The rumblings of war seemed unreal, but poised like a deadly sword above our heads. The sword struck, sharp and swift, and the magic was gone.” She paused at the window, drawing back the drapery with one fine-boned hand, but she did not see the stream of carriages that passed on the street below. She was recalling a different time, one of intense and sweeping emotion.
    Lydia realized that her cousin was caught up in her remembrances, and she asked tentatively, “What happened then, Michele?”
    “What?” Michele looked around, startled. “Oh, the soldiers and officers marched away. It was odd, really. Many were still in evening clothes.”
    “Lord Randol was horridly wounded at Waterloo. Bernard . . . Captain Hughes once confided to me that it was a miracle that his lordship survived at all,” Lydia said. “Did you ... did you see him then?”
    “I could not find him. I was told that he had died,” Michele said shortly.
    “Oh, Michele!” Lydia ran to throw her arms about her cousin. Her eyes brimmed with sympathetic tears. “I can but imagine what it would be like to be told that my beloved Bernard was dead. You must have gone through unspeakable torment, for though you have not said it, I know you cared for Lord Randol.”
    Michele remembered the hatred in his lordship’s hard eyes, and was possessed of a wild desire to laugh. “Cared for him? Oui, I cared for him. We were to be married.”
    Lydia fell back in speechless astonishment. She regarded her cousin for several horrified seconds. “Married? You were engaged to Lord Randol? But I cannot believe it is true. His is such a cold, unfeeling nature that I am persuaded no lady in her proper mind could love him. Indeed, when I think that Papa wishes me to accept his lordship’s suit, I am overcome with terror. Michele, how could you have loved him?”
    Not trusting her voice, Michele waited to gather her equilibrium before she answered. “The officer that I knew was of an engaging personality, charming and devilish by turns. Lord Randol poked fun at the ironies of life, and his eyes invited one to share in his amusement. I was . . . very impressionable.” Michele looked into the distance for a moment, before she shook herself free of her memories.