Prelude for a Lord by Camille Elliot Read Free Book Online Page B

overbearing .”
    “Clare would scold me if I did.” Clare did not look particularly happy with her partner, although Mr. Morrish danced well. He was light on his feet with far more graceful movements than Bayard could ever produce.
    “Bayard, do stop staring at them.” There was a note of hurtin his mother’s voice. “You will offend your stepfather with your suspicions.”
    “You know I would never deliberately do anything to upset you.” Especially now, after the pain he had caused her this past spring in London. The ton’s barbs and slurs had produced tears she had tried to hide, but he had seen how they had wounded her.
    “Then do try to be friends with Sir Hermes’s nephew. If you accept him, then perhaps Clare will warm to him.”
    The movements of the dance separated them, which rescued Bayard from trying to hide his surprise. When they came together again, he said, “Do you wish Clare to become more intimately acquainted with him?”
    “I should like them to be friends, and if they discover a deeper connection, I shall not object. His disposition is so cheerful, much like Sir Hermes’s. He would bring light and laughter to Clare, who has a tendency toward too much seriousness.”
    “But what of his fortune?” Bayard disliked being so blunt with her, but her fancies sometimes overlooked practical matters.
    “Sir Hermes believes Clare would be very good for Mr. Morrish. He is not a wastrel, and with Clare’s good sense, he could become even more respectably established. Maybe even an M.P.”
    His mother had avoided directly answering his question. He made a mental note to have his man of business privately look into Mr. Morrish’s prospects.
    “Bayard, do stop frowning at Mr. Morrish.”
    Bayard tried to smooth the tightness in his forehead. “I am not frowning.”
    “You are staring fiercely. Sir Hermes will think you are attempting to scare away his dearest nephew.”
    Bayard suspected Sir Hermes, in his usual careless way, would laugh and then give his nephew more tips on how to court Clare, as if it were a huge joke. Sir Hermes did not care about Clare atall—he no doubt craved the further connection with the Terralton family and their money.
    Perhaps Bayard was being unfair. Sir Hermes was not as wealthy as Bayard’s father had been, but he had a very respectable estate. And while he was attached to his nephew, it seemed he was not malicious in his scheming.
    But Bayard did not see Sir Hermes’s affability in his nephew. Mr. Morrish seemed more mercenary and deceptive.
    Bayard happened to be looking when Mr. Morrish deliberately stepped on his sister’s dress, tearing the flounce at the hem. Mr. Morrish had been dancing superbly, which made his gaffe more suspicious. The man appeared contrite in his apologies as he led Clare off the dance floor.
    “Whatever is the matter?” Lady Morrish followed his gaze.
    “Clare’s dress has torn. Perhaps you should help her to the ladies’ withdrawing room to repair it.”
    “No, Mr. Morrish is escorting her. She shall be fine.”
    Every muscle in Bayard tightened, making his dancing stiff as he watched Mr. Morrish lead Clare out of the room. She looked around, seeking out Bayard, with a look of entreaty on her face, just before she moved out of sight.
    “Clare should not be alone with him.” Bayard would have led his mother off the dance floor directly, but that would embarrass her and draw attention to his concern.
    “She shall be fine. What could anyone do to her in these crowded rooms?”
    It was true the Assembly Rooms were especially filled tonight, but that also meant there were more witnesses if Mr. Morrish did anything scandalous. Clare’s letter about the boy who had tried to compromise her this past summer still alarmed him. Lord God, what more can I do to protect my sister?
    When the dance was finally over, Bayard first had to escort hismother to a seat next to her friend, Lady Woolton. Sitting next to her was Lady