Miss Quinn's Quandary by Shirley Marks Read Free Book Online Page A

“Do you know who
that creature of sheer loveliness is?”
    “Ah—I know of her.” Randall wanted the acquaintance between
Larissa and his uncle to be nipped in the bud. He would not stand for his uncle
to continue with her. Uncle Cyrus had to be warned, and warned right away. “You
must excuse me, gentlemen.” In set determination, Randall started across the
room to deliver the unpleasant news.
    “Wait a bit, Trent.” Sinclair took hold of Randall’s sleeve.
“You’re not leaving without me.”
    Randall pulled his arm free. “You are more than welcome to her,
my friend.” Randall noticed how Sinclair’s face brightened. Did Sinclair
consider him a threat? Randall’s solitary interest in the chit was keeping her
away from his uncle. Sinclair could have Miss Quinn all to himself.
    As far as Randall was concerned, it was Larissa who should take
care. Describing Donald Sinclair as a rake might be going too far; he merely
enjoyed the ladies. However, Randall noticed Sir Thomas White was the first to
approach Larissa. Sinclair’s unnecessary concern about Randall’s intentions had
caused him to be fourth in line.
    Randall found his Uncle Cyrus and ushered him away from where
Larissa held court.
    “I find her most agreeable,” Rushton muttered. He glanced several
times over his shoulder to glimpse Larissa.
    “Agreeable?” Randall took hold of Rushton’s shoulders and squared
his uncle in front of him. “Listen to me, Uncle, she’s persona non grata.”
Randall saw the faraway expression in Rushton’s face and interpreted it as a
potentially ominous omen. “Someone to stay away from. Very far away from.”
Randall could see by the vacant look on his uncle’s face he still wasn’t making
any progress.
    “Know her, do you?” Rushton remarked in a knowing way.
    “Let me just say if I had known she was on the ship up the
Severn, rather than keep her company, I’d plunge into the drink and take my
chances with a pack of circling sharks.” Randall checked his uncle’s
expression. “You do take my meaning, don’t you, Uncle?”
    Still looking in Larissa’s direction, Rushton held a steady,
affable smile on his face. “I heard what you said, dear boy.”
    “Not what I said, my meaning. She’s not one to be trifled with, I
tell you.”
    Rushton stared toward the heavens and continued in a moist,
emotion-filled tone. “Your Aunt Constance used to go on about that—meaning,
morals, life’s lessons and such, God rest her soul.”
    “Uncle Cyrus!” Randall was now all but shouting.
    “What is it?”
    “Miss Larissa Quinn,” he reminded.
    “Ah, yes!” Rushton glanced across the room at Larissa for a
reminder. “I find her quite agreeable indeed. Very charming.”
    “No, not her, my warning about her. You do understand the point
I’m getting at, don’t you?”
    “Yes, oh yes. I got the point, dear boy. Just as well, I’m
probably too old for her anyway.” Rushton went on thoughtfully. “I defer to
your judgment. I entirely agree she is more suited for a much younger man.”
    Thank goodness, Randall thought in relief, his Uncle Cyrus had
given up any thoughts about furthering his relation with Miss Larissa Quinn.
    “Excuse me. Miss Quinn?” It was a scant hour later when Randall
made his respectful approach. His actions mimicked the many suitors who came
before him.
    Clearly shocked by his presence, Larissa stammered, “S-sir
Randall, is it not?”
    “Yes, that’s right.” He smiled. “You remembered.”
    “It is unlikely I should ever forget.” Her words were innocuous,
but the tone spoke volumes.
    “Would it be possible to speak to you alone for a moment?”
    “Alone?” Larissa glanced around. For whom, Randall was not sure.
“Is it allowed?”
    “We shall be on the terrace, in plain sight of the entire room.”
    “I am promised for the next set,” she said, catching her lower
lip with her teeth.
    “I assure you, we shall not be long.” Randall held his arm out
and