Miss Delacourt Has Her Day by Heidi Ashworth Read Free Book Online Page A

Tony!” Lady Derby purred, slipping her arm through his and tucking it against her side. “I had thought you would be with that child bride of yours”

    “She is not my bride. That is to say, she is not a child.” Drat his mother, for surely it was she who had so fully informed Lady Derby of what his uncle insisted be a secret. He hadn’t the chance to talk with Ginny about delaying the announcement in the papers for a few more days until he could think of a way to make everyone happy about his decision to wed, but it was a small problem compared to Lady Derby’s skill in twisting everything, including his tongue, into knots.
    “What she is, is not here,” Lady Derby said with a wideeyed look that took in the persons standing near and far. “Did her governess not think it prudent to let her out tonight?” she asked, biting her lip in feigned woe.
    “Lady Derby, need I remind you that when you received your first offer of marriage, you were still in short skirts?”
    “Oh, Tony, you remembered!” she said, rapping him on the arm with her fan. “It seems you had a penchant for young maidens even then”
    Fiend seize her, she had made his reprimand sound like flirtation! “And how could you forget,” he said as loudly as he dared for the benefit of the madding crowd, “that your first offer of marriage was from Thomas, Lord Radcliff?” He added for her ears only, “Hadn’t you better hurry inside? The marchioness is looking a bit bilious. You never know when her husband’s offer of marriage to you might be renewed.” And with a bow that required she let go of his arm, he stepped between two waiting carriages and melted into the night.
    Running up the street, he happily came across his own carriage and jumped inside. With any luck, he would be to the soiree before Ginny had left or, better yet, before she arrived. He would need a moment to find a mirror and repair his appearance. Quickly, he straightened his cuffs and smoothed his dark locks with the little silver comb he carried in his pocket. His cravat, however, would have to wait until he could see what he was doing. He did not, to his sorrow, have his valet’s gift for tying one, but allowing Conti to trot along behind him as he went from one entertainment to the next would only make Anthony an object of fun.

    Anthony could see that the Hadleys’ soiree was in full swing when he arrived. After checking his cravat in the hall mirror, he scanned the room for Ginny. Mrs. Hadley, Grandmama’s bosom friend since childhood, had not attracted the title and monies her ancestry warranted. As a result, the house was small and lacked a ballroom. Furniture in the main sitting room had been pushed aside and the carpets rolled up to allow for the dancing, lending the proceedings an exceptionally cozy feel. The atmosphere was such that a few quiet minutes alone with Ginny in a corner somewhere would not seem overly amiss. He knew he should discuss the subject of his conversation with his uncle, but above all else he wished to hear her thoughts and feelings with regard to his poem. It looked, however, as if he would have to wait, as Ginny was neither among the dancers nor any of the observers.
    He wandered into the dining room, where platters of food and drink had been laid out for supper, but she was absent from there, as well. He knew he had a better chance of locating his grandmama despite her lack of height, so voluminous became her voice after a few cordials of canary, but he heard nothing that would lead him to believe she and Ginny had arrived.
    “Oh, Lord Crenshaw!” came a voice at his shoulder. “Might I trouble you for a moment?”
    Anthony turned around and came face to face with Mrs. Hadley. He had forgotten she was so tall that one was tempted to measure her years in inches-a sad fact that no doubt contributed to her status as a mere Mrs., her father, the viscount, and large dowry notwithstanding. One did hope for tall sons but doubtless wished for