TuesdayNights by Linda Rae Sande Read Free Book Online Page A

was by someone bemoaning the fact that Michael wasn’t seen in the company of Faith Seward. The daughter of an earl, Faith had set her sights on Michael during her first Season – just last year – and seemed willing to wait for him.
    The chit would have to wait a long time, Harold considered.
    Harold glanced around the room again, hoping he would find Viscount Cunningham in attendance. When he spotted Mark’s viscountess instead, he gave her a nod and was glad to see her move through the crowd toward him.
    “Good evening, Viscountess Cunningham,” he said as he lifted her gloved hand and brushed his lips over the back of it.
    “Oh, Harold, do call me ‘Violet’,” she replied with a broad grin, curtsying to his bow. “I am quite sure you were looking for my husband, but he’s already in London for the Season,” she offered, opening her fan with a twist of her wrist.
    Harold gave her a nod of agreement. “I was, my lady, but you’re far prettier. And easier to ply for information,” he teased as he held out his arm.
    Violet regarded his arm and placed her own on top of it, wondering at Harold’s comment. They began walking toward the edge of the room and then turned to follow the walls. “And what information might that be?” she wondered. Violet noticed the Waterford girls standing across the room, their manner with one another suggesting they were engaged in an intense conversation.
    “It’s about your son,” Harold stated, one of his eyebrows arcing up a bit.
    “Oh, good God, what has Marcus gone and done now?” she asked in alarm. Last she knew, her oldest son was in London, haunting every gaming hell until his monthly allowance was spent.
    Harold shook his head. “Not that son,” he answered with a grin.
    Violet smiled. “Michael, then. What has he gone and done?” She put the fan to use then, beating it through the air in quick flicks of her wrist.
    “Well, besides becoming my business partner, nothing. Yet,” Harold answered with a grin.
    Glancing up at her escort, Violet had to suppress a gasp. “Business partner?” she repeated, stunned by his words. Michael had mentioned something the day before, but she hadn’t realized the scope of his involvement. “I ... I had no idea,” she murmured, mostly to herself.
    “He’s got a mind for it, my lady,” Harold stated with a nod. “We hosted him at Waterford Park for a couple of days while he and I went over the details. Sir Richard recommended him to me, you see,” he explained, noting how the viscountess gave him a quick glance before returning her gaze to the crowd. “I think we’ll all profit from our iron smelting venture in Shipley,” he added, slowing his steps so they eventually stopped near an empty alcove.
    “Oh,” Violet replied with a quick nod. “I suppose I am ... happy to hear it, given the situation there,” she said with a bit of uncertainty. The economy of Shipley had long been in decline. More of the agricultural work was being done by machines, and jobs were scarce in the small Sussex community. Many of the younger men were moving to London for employment.
    “Has your son ...?” Harold paused, not quite sure how to broach the subject of Michael’s intentions with respect to any biddable chits. “Spoken of marriage?” he finally managed to get out, surprised the question would be so difficult to ask.
    Giving Harold a sad grin, Violet cocked her head to one side. “If he has, I was not in the room at the time,” she replied coyly. “He is only three-and-twenty. And as much as I want another daughter, I do not think he will marry anytime soon.”
    Harold nodded his understanding. “I appreciate your answering my question,” he offered before sending his gaze over the crowd. “I shouldn’t want his attentions on anything other than business. At least for a few years.”
    Violet frowned suddenly. “Oh. I see,” she replied, trying hard to keep her voice light despite how his words made her feel. None