Book:
Magical Weddings by Leigh Michaels, Aileen Harkwood, Eve Devon, Raine English, Tamara Ferguson, Lynda Haviland, Jody A. Kessler, Jane Lark, Bess McBride, L. L. Muir, Jennifer Gilby Roberts, Jan Romes, Heather Thurmeier, Elsa Winckler, Sarah Wynde Read Free Book Online
Authors:
Leigh Michaels,
Aileen Harkwood,
Eve Devon,
Raine English,
Tamara Ferguson,
Lynda Haviland,
Jody A. Kessler,
Jane Lark,
Bess McBride,
L. L. Muir,
Jennifer Gilby Roberts,
Jan Romes,
Heather Thurmeier,
Elsa Winckler,
Sarah Wynde
year.”
“She must be very difficult to work for.”
“Oh, it’s not that, really. I mean, it
is
a lot of work–arranging this house party, for instance–but she’s not unpleasant or even demanding.”
“Why is she giving this party, anyway? I appreciate that she’s adopting the role of fairy godmother, but I’d think the wedding alone would be enough, without adding complications.”
“Well, the Carew sisters and Lady Hester are to be Imogene’s bridesmaids, so they’d be here nonetheless. But to be perfectly honest, I think Lady Stone sweeps in and takes over simply to annoy her nephew. Rockhill is his–but as long as he remains unmarried, she’s the dowager, and she doesn’t hesitate to exercise what she sees as her rights.”
“So the poor man might end up married to Dimity Carew just to avoid having Lady Stone take over his house whenever she feels inclined?”
“Well, there’s a dilemma for you,” Jane said dryly. “I wonder if he’d rather share his home with Lady Stone for a fortnight now and then, or with Dimity Carew every day.”
Celia couldn’t stop the laugh which bubbled forth and filled the sudden silence which had fallen across the drawing room as the last few notes of Miss Carew’s pianoforte piece ended. Everyone looked at Celia, and she felt her face sizzle with embarrassment. “I beg your pardon, Miss Carew,” she said awkwardly. “I was not amused by your performance.”
Dimity gasped.
Now I’ve made things even worse.
“I meant, of course, that it was not the performance which I found amusing. Your musical abilities are quite…”
Dimity glared.
Was there any way to save the situation? In desperation, Celia began to applaud, and slowly the others joined in.
Baron Draycott let go of the last sheet of music and leaned over the pianoforte to murmur something to Dimity. But he wasn’t looking at her; he caught Celia’s eye instead, grinned, and winked.
She gulped and gave him a tiny smile in return. It appeared Baron Draycott had a sense of humor–so perhaps she’d found a kindred spirit after all.
But as she settled back in her chair, feeling more hopeful than she had all evening, she caught Simon looking at her, his brow creased in a frown.
Chapter 3 Friday
Fortunately, Simon enjoyed quiet, because Rockhill’s breakfast room offered plenty of it. It also provided food in quantities that would feed an army, along with enough servants–all silently bowing and scraping–to give a man a serious case of nerves. Finally he succeeded in shooing them away.
Perhaps it was just as well he himself was required to work for a living, for it was certain he’d be no success at the layabout lifestyle the gentlemen of this party seemed to enjoy.
He was polishing off a sizeable breakfast when Lady Stone’s colorless little companion–Joan? Jean?–came in. She paused in the doorway, obviously startled.
Simon rose. “Good morning, Miss… I was beginning to think no one in the house bothered with breakfast at all.”
“I’m sure the gentlemen will be down before long, with the promise of a day’s hunting to lure them from their beds.” She colored, as though the reference had been a naughty one.
If such a mild entendre embarrassed her, how did she manage to cope with their hostess? Lady Stone appeared to exercise no reins at all on her tongue.
“The best part of the day will be gone by then,” he observed, “and the game will probably have gone to shelter–though I presume the birds won’t mind more sportsmanlike odds. May I help you to a slice of ham? I suggested to the butler that it wasn’t necessary to have three footmen watching every bite I took, but now the entire staff seems to have found occupation elsewhere.”
A rustle from the doorway drew his attention as Celia came in, fresh and dainty in green-sprigged muslin with matching ribbons threaded through the locks of chestnut hair piled atop her head. She glanced around the room and
Jean-Claude Izzo, Howard Curtis