Susanne Marie Knight by A Noble Dilemma Read Free Book Online

arm’s distance away was none other than the incredibly handsome Lord Ingraham himself.

    As he strode over to the ladies, David tightened his hands into fists. There could be no mistake: both Miss Branford and his sister had guilty expressions stamped on their faces. Why Petunia blazed red, he had no idea. But for Miss Branford — well, he had seen her unabashed smile at Randolph Fenwick. Obviously, she enjoyed indulging in an inappropriate flirtation with that bounder.
    “Davy!” Instead of looking at him, Petunia averted her gaze, glancing down the road. “We, ah, what a pleasant surprise to see you at Hyde Park. And Lord Penning as well.”
    She waved at Penning as he talked with the Countess and Fenwick a short distance away.
    “Just so.” David lifted his hat in greeting to Miss Branford, but no accompanying smile lifted his lips.
    Not that her appearance did not please him. He could admit, but only to himself, that she looked absolutely radiant in her new fashionable clothes. Indeed, she looked as a tempting as a pot of honey to a swarm of overeager flies.
    And two of the aforementioned flies were Fenwick and Penning.
    David nudged a bit of dirt with the toe of his boot, then glanced up at Miss Branford. “It has come to my ears that you enjoy tooling about the park in the afternoon.”
    The shade from nearby beech trees darkened her fair face. “Yes, sir. Mr. Fenwick and Lord Penning have been most obliging in driving us about. It’s important to take advantage of this fine weather before the harshness of winter sets in, don’t you agree?”
    Instead of replying, David watched the parade of carriages passing by their position. And, blast it all, every man, young or old, had his gaze firmly glued upon Miss Branford’s comely visage.
    More demmed flies.
    A cool breeze filtered through the trees and into his bones. He was not the only one to feel the cold. Miss Branford and his sister pulled their shawls tighter around their shoulders.
    Fine weather or no, winter was heralding its arrival sooner than expected. “Come, ladies. Let us return to the carriages. It grows frosty.”
    He led both women back to the waiting carriages. Once there, he gave out assignments. “Mother, you do not mind continuing your outing in Mr. Fenwick’s tilbury, do you? I wish to escort Miss Branford home in your barouche.”
    “Not at all, my boy. Not at all.” The Countess smiled at her cicisbeo.
    Petunia pouted. “What about me, Davy?”
    David glanced meaningfully at his friend.
    “What? Hey, I say, I would be honored if you accompany me, Lady Petunia,” Penning piped up.
    “Oh, all right. Have it your way, brother mine.” Petunia allowed Penning to help her up in his high-perched phaeton. “But do not dawdle on the road, Davy. Tonight is the Duchess of Margrove’s fête and we must have plenty of time to prepare. ’Tis Bethany’s formal introduction into society, you know.”
    Tonight? He had forgotten the Duchess’ much anticipated ball, which was not a surprise considering all the meetings and business matters he had juggled since arriving back in London from his trip to Paris.
    “Until later, then.” David watched his sister and friend take off in the phaeton, then waved to his mother and Fenwick departing in the tilbury.
    With everyone else gone, David helped Miss Branford into the enclosed barouche. Once the horses were on their way, he settled back onto the comfortable squabs, glad for a chance to talk to his houseguest in private.
    Miss Branford beat him to it. “Is there anything wrong, sir? You seem to be in an ill-humor.”
    Blast.
    The girl spoke her mind, that much was certain. He removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “The truth of it is, I wondered, Miss Branford, is my mother an adequate chaperon?”
    Her large hazel eyes blinked several times, probably in astonishment at his inquiry. “Why, yes, sir. The Countess and Lady Petunia both have been extremely conscientious and gracious