Free Midsummer Eve at Rookery End by Elizabeth Hanbury

sensual allure – but it went far deeper than that. With one look, she had touched his heart and made his soul sing. She promised an intimacy and a sense of completion he had never known before. Emotion clogged his throat at the thought and only with difficulty did he drag his thoughts back to the present.
    Offering her his arm, he said, “Come, let me escort you back to the ballroom.”
    Eve laid her fingers on his coat sleeve. “Very well, but given my plan to be a governess, I doubt if I will see you again after this evening, Lord Shaftesbury.”
    “On the contrary—” he began.
    “Eve!”
    A shrill voice interrupted and he looked away from Eve’s upturned countenance to observe a middle-aged lady in a purple gown and turban approaching. A young girl, who even from this distance he could see was very lovely, tripped along in her wake. The older lady was holding the preposterous turban in place on her head as she hurried towards them and she looked extremely annoyed.
    “You thoughtless girl, Eve,” she exclaimed. “What on earth made you decide to ramble in the garden at this hour? And where is Sir Ralph? Oh— !”
    Mrs Leighton stopped when she saw that Eve was not alone. When the identity of her daughter’s companion registered, she became wreathed in smiles.
    “Lord Shaftesbury!” she said breathlessly. “Sir, we are delighted to make your acquaintance.” Mrs Leighton then gave Lydia, already staring dewy-eyed at his lordship, a sharp nudge.
    She obliged with a curtsey. “Pleased to meet you, my lord.”
    The dowager’s gaze went from the Marquess, to Eve, and then back again. “I find it odd to discover you alone with my daughter in these circumstances, my lord—”
    “Mama,” interjected Eve, “Lord Shaftesbury has been very kind. He intervened in an unfortunate situation—”
    The Marquess gently squeezed Eve’s elbow in a warning gesture. “I was happy to be able to assist your daughter, Mrs Leighton,” he said, bowing. He raised his quizzing glass and peered down at Lydia. “So this is the divine younger sister I have heard so much of?”
    Eve, watching him intently, felt her heart sink; the inevitable would happen now he had met her ravishing sibling. What man could fail to be captivated by Lydia’s sparkling blue eyes, perfect complexion and black-as-night hair?
    “Yes, indeed.” Mrs Leighton’s bosom swelled with pride.
    “Reports of your beauty have not been exaggerated, Miss Lydia. You look charming.”
    “Thank you,” she murmured.
    “I am sure it will not be long before you secure a brilliant marriage.”
    “It is kind of you to say so,” said Lydia, giving a coy glance from under her lashes.
    He smiled, bowed again and said, “I wish you good fortune in your search, but I am engaged to escort your sister back to the ballroom so, if you will excuse us, I intend to fulfill my obligation.”
    Lydia’s face fell at this obvious snub to her charms, and Eve’s mother, crestfallen that Lord Shaftesbury had not instantly succumbed to Lydia’s beauty, sought to salvage something from the situation. Clearly she did not intend to let a Marquess slip through her fingers.
    “Wait a moment!” cried Mrs Leighton, as he began to lead Eve away. “I believe you have compromised my daughter by arranging to meet her in the garden, Lord Shaftesbury. What say you to that?”
    “You are mistaken, Mama,” said Eve. “The Marquess did not arrange to meet me and his behaviour has been entirely honourable.”
    “His reputation would suggest otherwise,” observed Mrs Leighton curtly. Addressing Lord Shaftesbury again, she said, “Sir, I demand you offer marriage to my daughter.”
    Both Eve and Lydia gasped, but the Marquess merely drawled with amused nonchalance, “Do you indeed?”
    “Mama!” Eve was horrified that her mother was trying to blackmail Lord Shaftesbury into a marriage proposal. “What are you saying? Don’t embarrass us any further!”
    “Let me handle this,”