Nicola Cornick, Margaret McPhee, et al by Christmas Wedding Belles Read Free Book Online Page B

was something else that made Lucinda feel even
more cold and alone.
    ‘I think that Stacey should marry for love, not money,’ Lucinda
admitted reluctantly. ‘Though it contradicts my duty to say so.’
    Sally Kestrel smiled understandingly. ‘We do not wish to see
others make the same mistakes that we did,’ she said. ‘I have already tried to
speak to Cousin Letitia, but she is adamant. They have no money and Mr
Leytonstone is very rich.’
    ‘And Mr Chance, I suppose, is not?’
    Sally Kestrel shook her head. ‘He is better born, but he has no
fortune. And I fear that Cousin Letitia values fortune above all things.’
    Lucinda glanced towards the doorway, where the Master of
Ceremonies was announcing a late arrival. The knot of people gathered by the
doorway parted to allow the newcomer entrance.
    ‘Mr Jackson Raleigh!’
    Lucinda’s breath caught in her throat. She dropped her fan and
had to rummage under the rout chair to find it again. She felt hot and cold all
at the same time, shaking as though she had a fever. Raleigh, she remembered,
was the name that her good friend Rebecca de Lancey had used when she had lived
in London before her marriage. It was the name of a famous sailor whom some
might say had been a privateer…
    She straightened up. Daniel De Lancey was coming directly across
the room towards her. He looked spectacular, in evening dress of a stark
severity that emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the hard, strong
lines of his body. His step was light, and his demeanour one of confident charm
that, Lucinda sensed, drew the eye of every woman in the room.
    She tried not to look at him, afraid that if she did it would in
some way give him away. She was surely the only one present who knew his
identity. A little flicker of anger heated her blood to think that Daniel was
taking her silence for granted, that he believed that she would not betray him.
He had the audacity of the devil himself, and a part of her thought he richly
deserved a fall. Another part of her was terrified that he would be found out.
    ‘My dear Mrs Melville,’ the Duchess of Kestrel was saying. ‘You
have gone very pale. Are you quite well?’
    ‘I am very well, thank you,’ Lucinda said, recovering. ‘I feel a
little chilled. It is a cold night.’
    ‘You should dance, you know,’ Sally Kestrel said, smiling. ‘Just
because one is a chaperon…’
    ‘Oh, I do not dance these days,’ Lucinda said.
    ‘Not even when the most handsome man in the room is intent on
asking you?’ the Duchess enquired.
    Lucinda looked up. Daniel was now cutting a very determined path
through the small crowd towards her. He was looking straight at her, with a
mocking challenge in his eyes. He was taunting her, daring her to denounce him.
Lucinda drew herself up a little straighter in her chair.
    ‘Madam,’ he was bowing over her hand now. ‘Allow me to introduce
myself to you—’
    ‘I remember you,’ Lucinda said, before he could finish. ‘We have
met before.’
    She savoured the first faint sign of wariness that she saw in his
dark eyes and smiled. ‘How do you do, Mr Raleigh?’
    He raised her hand to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture and
pressed a kiss against it—a real kiss rather than a formal brush of the lips.
Her skin tingled, and she tried to withdraw her hand, but he held her fast for
a long moment.
    ‘I am flattered that you remember me, madam,’ he said.
    ‘Oh, I had all but forgotten you until you walked in,’ Lucinda
said airily. ‘But then I thought that you seemed vaguely familiar. Pray permit
me to introduce you to Her Grace the Duchess of Kestrel. Your Grace, may I
introduce Mr Raleigh?’
    Daniel bowed, smiling, and Sally Kestrel looked delighted. ‘Mrs
Melville! You did not vouchsafe the fact that you and Mr Raleigh were already
acquainted. How do you do, sir? What brings you into this part of Suffolk?’
    ‘Business,’ Daniel said promptly. He smiled at Lucinda, a smile
of cool confidence, and