Free Miss Burton Unmasks a Prince by Jennifer Moore Page A

Or it might be her accent , Meg thought.
    Before Serena had left, she’d held up the dreaded apricot gown. “I do hope you’re not intending to wear this particular dress to the musicale,” she said. “My dress will be precisely the same color, and what a disaster that would be for us to arrive together.”
    Lady Vernon and the modiste had immediately begun reassessing the gown choices for Lady Harrison’s musicale, and just before Serena left the room, she caught Meg’s gaze and winked.
    Meg pondered on the meaning behind the duchess’s action. Did Serena know how she felt about the gown? But how could she? Meg didn’t have time to think about it for long before the dance master gave a small tug on her hand, and she was quickly transported back to the present.
    “And now, miss, if you will demonstrate the five positions of dancing . . .”
    When the dance instruction finally ended, Meg fled to the sanctuary of her window seat in the library, but her reprieve only lasted an hour until it was time to change for supper.
    When she reached the top of the stairs with her hair arranged and wearing a fresh gown, she saw Lord Featherstone, Colonel Stackhouse, and Daniel standing together in the main hall.
    Even though she could not hear what they were discussing, she could see by Daniel’s posture that he was uncomfortable. He stood rigidly with his arms folded and brows furrowed. Colonel Stackhouse was listening to Lord Featherstone, whose back was turned to Meg. The colonel’s face was unreadable.
    Meg stepped quietly down the stairs, so as not to disturb the men, and as she approached, the earl’s words became clear.
    “It is bad enough that cotton prices have risen in the extreme, but my steward tells me that we shall have to begin to find another source for sugar. I know I am not alone in my opinion that the former colonists owe us the courtesy of discontinuing trade with our enemies. Why, it is no secret that the Royal Navy has been forced to employ privateers to seize American cargo ships bound for France.”
    Meg stopped with one foot in the air. The arrogant earl must know that the navy’s action was costing her father his very livelihood.
    Daniel looked up, his gaze meeting hers. His face was pale with anger, and she saw lines of tension around his lips. He shook his head ever so slightly, indicating that Meg should remain silent.
    Colonel Stackhouse’s eye darted to her quickly, but he continued to regard the earl without acknowledging Meg’s presence. “If I understand you correctly, sir, you are saying that the Americans should stop acting like an independent nation and work harder to serve Britain’s global interests.”
    “Precisely,” Lord Featherstone said, nodding once. And even though Meg was behind him and could not see his face, she could tell by the motion of his arm that he was stroking his upper lip whiskers.
    “And, Miss Burton, what is your opinion on the matter?” the colonel said without taking his gaze from the earl.
    “I . . .” Meg didn’t look at Daniel but could see from the corner of her vision that he was attempting to catch her eye.
    Lord Featherstone turned and stood aside as Meg stepped down the remaining stairs.
    She looked between the two men. Colonel Stackhouse stood quietly, awaiting her reply, and Meg had fully decided to play the entire matter off as if she did not understand such issues and change the subject—until the earl blinked and lowered his chin. That slight movement portrayed such a wealth of condescension that Meg’s hands clenched, and a flood of words poured from her mouth.
    “I believe that exact attitude, the British blatant disregard of rights, not to mention contempt for international laws upon the high seas is the reason that there will most assuredly be another war between Columbia and Britannia.” Meg turned her head from the colonel to the earl. His bright eyes were half-lidded, and he held a small smile as he appeared to humor her,