Free A Ravishing Redhead by Jillian Eaton Page A

ceremony where he wasn’t foxed to the gills, although Margaret was the one who wanted to have it outside. Something about talking to a sheep,” said Josephine from behind him. Edging closer, the blond cast one pointed glare behind her to where her own husband was standing. The unspoken message was clear: stay there . Inclining his chin and offering a small, tight smile, Traverson melted back into the small crowd of wedding guests and Josephine breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
    Despite having been married for nearly two years, she rarely appeared at social functions with Traverson. Today it had been unavoidable as both of them had been invited to Heathridge and the last thing in the world Josephine wanted to do was disappoint Margaret. Still, it was just so terribly awkward to be in the same room (or, as the case was today, in the same field) as her husband. For once she didn’t know exactly what to do or what to say. She could feel Traverson’s eyes on her, but every time she glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder he was looking somewhere else. The sky. The treeline. The roof of the estate just barely visible on the other side of the hill. The man had the attention span of a flea. His head was always in the clouds, thinking of new ideas and new inventions. It was but one of the many reasons their marriage had been doomed from the start.
    “Oh look, they are about to kiss,” Catherine sighed, drawing Josephine’s attention back to the top of the hill.
    She watched, a smile blossoming across her face, as Margaret stood on her tip toes, threw her arms around Henry’s neck, and kissed her husband with wild abandon. The guests clapped politely, while Josephine and Catherine hooted their delight.
    “Where is Grace?” Catherine hissed when the well wishing quieted to a pleasant hum of voices and the wedding party prepared to move down to the estate where large tents had been set up for dining and dancing.
    Only now realizing their friend was conspicuously absent, Josephine did a quick search of the crowd. Many of the faces were familiar – only close friends and family had been invited to the intimate affair – but Grace’s was not among them.
    “She was here earlier,” Catherine said, puzzled. “I saw her with Lord Melbourne.” 
    At the mere mention of Grace’s fiancée Josephine’s mouth pinched together and her eyes narrowed. “No doubt he made her miss the ceremony,” she predicted darkly.
    Catherine clucked her tongue and hid a smile behind her hand. It was no secret that Josephine despised Grace’s intended. She had warmed up to the man herself and secretly thought he was a perfect match for Grace, although she would never dare say so aloud in Josephine’s presence.
    Josephine had quite made up her mind that the two did not suit and was determined to break them apart before their wedding. So far she had had little success, partly because Grace was so head over heels in love with her fiancé that she was oblivious to everything else and partly because Lord Melbourne was surprisingly protective of his young bride-to-be. Twice he had thwarted Josephine’s ill-disguised attempts to draw them apart. Catherine could only hope there would not be a third.
    “Perhaps she was merely hungry and went down for the estate for a bite to eat,” she suggested.
    “Perhaps,” said Josephine grudgingly.
    “Shall we, ladies?” Marcus interrupted. Extending one arm to his wife and the other to Josephine, he escorted them down the hill to the first tent where ten round tables of varying size had been set up. Candles flickering merrily atop the white linen table cloths and vases filled with wildflowers gave everything a soft, rosy glow. Marcus plucked a daisy from one of the bouquets and slipped it behind his wife’s ear. Catherine laid her palm upon his chest and smiled up at him, lost in his gray eyes. From beside them came a quiet murmur as Josephine cleared her throat before she mumbled something about finding