Free Born of Persuasion by Jessica Dotta Page B

his eyes, as if experiencing a headache. “Mr. Macy awayed this morning on business. I’m to beg excuses.”
    “But if it’s not Mr. Macy,” Mrs. Windham persisted, “who is it?”
    Mr. Greenham opened one eye. “How the devil should I know?”
    “Well, have the goodness, at least, to tell me whether or not it’s a gentleman,” Mrs. Windham demanded, frantically signalling for Elizabeth to continue smiling.
    Before more could be said, Edward entered, securing gold cuff links to formal attire. His jaw tight, his gaze darted over the room’s occupants, stopping on me before proceeding to Lady Auburn.
    “Mother.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “May I join tonight’s dinner?”
    I shut my eyes to regain composure, so I only heard Lady Foxmore thwack her cane as Edward’s footfall struck the floor behind me. “So, you’ve finally decided to come back from the dead, have you, boy?”
    “Not yet,” was Edward’s measured reply. “Although someday I intend to. Lady Foxmore. Mr. Greenham.”
    “Do not presume to greet me, Edward.” Lady Foxmore’s words were sharp. “There is no excuse for interrupting a conversation. I suppose you’re fishing for an introduction to the girl so you can try to save her soul next.”
    Edward said nothing but stooped, placing his hand on myelbow. “No, Juls,” he whispered in my ear, using his pet name for me. “You’re not sitting on a stool, not in my house.” Then louder, looking directly at Lady Foxmore, “I need no introduction to Julia. I daresay she has a far stronger claim on me than anyone else here, thank you.”
    Were he not supporting my elbow, I should have doubted my ability to stand. The shocked silence intensified as Edward led me near the door and took his stance next to me.
    My face burned. Edward’s use of my first name combined with his speech was as good as an announcement of our betrothal. With a sternness I’d never seen him exhibit, he returned their stares, one by one, with a glower of his own.
    “Well, Edward,” Lady Foxmore said, recovering first, “you certainly are amusing, if nothing else.” Turning to Lady Auburn, she said, “Perhaps you’d best start dinner, dear.”
    Lady Auburn seemed unable to move. Wide-eyed, she clutched her husband’s arm, her gaze circling between Edward and me.
    When his parents did nothing, Edward presented me his arm. “May I have the honor?” He nodded to the footman to open the door. During that short walk to the dining room, there was little I could say or do with everyone watching except construct a mask and retreat behind it.
    Candlelight bedecked the room we entered. A mahogany table, easily large enough to accommodate thirty, was lavished with china, fine linens, and crystal. Green boughs decorated the mantel, filling the chamber with the fragrance of spruce.
    Within a few minutes, curls of steam, laced with scents of lemon, thyme, and sherry, escaped from the tureen carried in by the butler. While the footman ladled soup, Edward sat rigid, staring at his soup bowl with such intensity it was a marvel the fragile china did not crumble.
    “Well, boy,” Lady Foxmore eventually said, tearing apart bread, “no one wants to inquire why it is that you are so familiarwith Miss Elliston. By and by, we shall uncover this mystery, but not just yet. Give us at least the first course. In the meantime, since you stole the conversation before dinner even started, have the decency to supply us with a new one.”
    He lifted his head as if with great effort. “Dinner conversation? You want dinner conversation?” He glanced over the table occupants and settled on Lady Foxmore. “This very moment I was thinking of how callous we are, to gather and eat seven courses, when less than a mile from here, six cottager’s children shall go to bed with empty stomachs.”
    Lord Auburn stirred, his cheeks ruddy with anger. “Son.”
    “Remain with us awhile longer, Miss Elliston.” Lady Foxmore pointed her spoon at