My Sweet Folly by Laura Kinsale Read Free Book Online Page A

eyes.
    “She must have a wider circle of acquaintance, of course,” Folie said.
    “Oh, fancy!” he said sarcastically. “Is she not happy with the available gossip now?”
    The mocking sting in his voice startled Folie. She simply looked back at him blankly.
    After an instant’s stare at one another, he dropped his eyes and said in a distracted tone, “I did not mean that as it sounded.”
    Folie said carefully, “An abundance of gossip is not our desire. London society is.”
    “But why?’’ he asked in a more reasonable manner, lifting his hand to beckon Lander.
    “It appears that I must be unpardonably blunt,” Folie said. “We are on a hunt for eligible bachelors.”
    He paused in mid-gesture. His fingers curled. His eyebrow lifted again, a cool disapproval. “Indeed!”
    “I’m sorry to have to mention it so forwardly, but yes— ‘indeed!’“
    He sat still and straight. “You wish to marry again?” he asked frostily.
    Folie opened her mouth to retort, and closed it. She thought she heard Melinda make another faint noise, but when Folie looked at her, her head was bent demurely over her plate.
    “I’m sure that my intentions are none of your affair, sir,” Folie said stiffly. “It was my stepdaughter’s prospects to which I referred!”
    He transferred his wintry gaze to Melinda. “I see.”
    “Then you will understand why a season in the city is required at this time.”
    “I’m afraid that I do not.”
    “Perhaps things are done differently in India—I have no doubt they are, but here a girl’s coming out and her first London season are essential, in particular for a girl like Miss Hamilton, whose—presence and breeding—recommend her more than her fortune. I need not scruple to mention this to you, as you are her guardian.”
    “I am aware of Miss Hamilton’s circumstances,” he said slowly. “But if it is money that makes London a necessity, then I can see no difficulty. I shall settle forty thousand on her myself. Will that suffice?”
    Melinda’s head lifted, her blue eyes growing wide.
    “Forty!” Both of them stared at him in astonishment. “I beg your pardon!” Folie murmured.
    “I think it will,” he said, calmly answering himself. “Things may be done differently here than in India, but not that differently.”
    Melinda watched in a bewildered silence as Lander placed a dish of vegetables beside her. She did not even move to serve herself. The high color in her cheeks made her extremely lovely, the candlelight gleaming on her yellow hair and bright skin. Folie saw their host observe her stepdaughter for a long moment, his attention fixed upon her as if he could not tear it away.
    A novel thought dawned upon Folie. Surely he could not, would not...would he want Melinda for himself? Her dower was modest, her connections the same as his.
    Why—but that she was beautiful; and young and gay and everything he was not?
    He turned, catching Folie staring at him. “I wish for you and Miss Hamilton to reside here. Permanently.”
    By now he could hardly surprise her any more. She tilted her head. “I beg your pardon, sir. Are you quite serious?”  
    “Yes,” he said.  
    “This is certainly sudden.”
    He merely made a faint shrug. “I believe it is for the best.”
    “And are we to have any preference in the matter?”
    “You would not like it?”
    “I have not had time to consider it.”
    “You said that your rooms are pleasant.” He gave her plate a glance. “I’ll change the chef if you like. You’ve hardly touched your food.”
    Folie belatedly took a bite of the trout that had been set before her. “I beg your pardon. I have been—so disconcerted.”
    He did not answer that. For a few minutes, they all ate in silence. Folie noticed that he took very little food himself. Melinda kept her face properly turned down to her plate, but Folie could see the hot pink emotion still burning in her stepdaughter’s cheeks, the fierce arguments stopped on