Free Lady Beresford's Lover by Ella Quinn Page A

had had a wonderful time but was becoming rather tired, and poor Silvia, who had danced every set, was bravely stifling a yawn.
    Lord Stanstead escorted them to the hall. “I look forward to our outing.”
    “As do I.”
    He looked as if he wanted to say more, but held back. That was for the best. Spending time together was one thing; expectations were something else entirely.
    “Good night, Stanstead.” Clara inclined her head. “I must take these two home while they can still stand. It will take a few days for them to become used to the pace of life in Town.”
    Either not understanding Clara’s dismissal, or ignoring it, Lord Stanstead escorted Vivian to their coach. “Have a good evening.”
    “You as well.”
    After Clara, Silvia, and Vivian were all in the coach and the pair had started forward, Clara said, “A good first event. I predict the house will be flooded with flowers and other mementos by to-morrow afternoon.”
    In no time at all—Mayfair was quite small compared to traveling around the countryside—they were back at Clara’s house.
    Barnes opened the door. “My lady, would you like tea delivered to your parlor?”
    “Thank you, Barnes. You always know exactly what I need.”
    Vivian, her cousin, and her friend made their way up the stairs to the landing and then into the wing in which Clara and Silvia had their apartments. Silvia seemed as if she could barely keep her eyes open.
    Clara must have noticed, as she bussed Silvia’s cheek. “My dear, you did wonderfully well this evening. It’s a shame to-morrow isn’t my at home. Nevertheless, I expect to see an assortment of posies, poems, and other nonsense all dedicated to you. Take yourself off now and feel free to break your fast in your chambers.”
    “Thank you, I am tired.” Silvia hugged Clara, then Vivian. “I had a wonderful time. Thank you so much for wanting me to join you.”
    “Silly miss.” Clara smiled fondly. “Your mother and grandmother would have been pleased. Off to bed now.”
    Vivian felt her eyes closing as well. It had been much too long since she’d even stayed up so late. “I shall seek my couch as well.”
    Her cousin linked arms with her, guiding her into Clara’s parlor. Perdita ran out from under a table, and danced around her skirts. “Yes, my sweet.” She picked up the dog and gave her a kiss before setting her back on the floor. “Sit with me for a few minutes. There are some small details I’d like to discuss.” The tea arrived, and Clara served. “Did you have a good time?”
    “I did. Much more than I thought I would.”
    “I wasn’t sure how you would like being out among the ton again.”
    “It hasn’t changed much.” Truth be told, Vivian would have been just as happy to have remained home with a good book . . . except for Lord Stanstead, of course. She had enjoyed meeting him.
    “Stanstead is a good young man, and I know you will not fall in love with him.”
    The tea was half-way down her throat and she choked. “I beg your pardon?”
    “You may not have noticed the attention all the younger ladies were paying to him, but I did. He’ll be wed before the Season is finished.”
    “I have no intention of . . .”
    “Yes, yes, I know, and who could blame you?” Clara smiled. “Enjoy him while you are able.”
    How was it that she could say the most outrageous things in a completely conversational tone? “He danced with me and is only accompanying me to the museum. I hardly think it shows interest on his part. He is only being kind to a newcomer to Town.”
    “Of course, my dear. I’m sure you are correct.” Clara nibbled on a biscuit. “In any event, he will probably marry for political reasons. His star is on the ascendant.” Clara paused, staring at something on the wall. “Most likely that Banks girl. Her father is a powerful political figure.”
    That ill-behaved child who had been glaring at Vivian and his lordship? Was it possible Lord Stanstead was trying to ensure