Free Miss Wonderful by Loretta Chase Page B

Hargate, moreover, had four other sons to support.
    In
other words, Alistair Carsington was no great catch.
    His
lack of income, however, didn't matter to Judith Gilford. She had
enough money for the two of them, with plenty to spare. She might
easily have supported a harem, in fact—and it was most
unfortunate that the law frowned on polyandry, because it would want
at least half a dozen husbands to give Judith all the attention and
slavish devotion she craved.
    But
that was the London social scene, and this was a remote corner of the
provinces, where eligible men were about as plentiful as coconut
trees.
    In
eligible young women, on the other hand, the place abounded.
    Lady
Tolbert's "intimate, quite informal" dinner party comprised
more than two dozen guests. Ten of these were misses, all got up in
their finest gowns and most flattering coiffures, and all exerting
themselves to charm the Earl of Hargate's third son.
    Miss
Oldridge would have made eleven, but she was hardly a young lady,
being on the wrong side of thirty, and she made no effort to charm
anybody.
    All
the other misses wore delicate confections of white or pastel muslin.
These gowns, in defiance of the polar winds rattling the windows,
displayed considerable acreage in the way of bosom.
    Miss
Oldridge wore a grey silk gown designed, apparently, by a strict
Presbyterian minister for his grandmother.
    She
was, determined, it seemed, to drive Alistair insane.
    In
spite of all his resolutions, she was succeeding.
    He'd
resolved, since she'd refused to cooperate, to do without her.
    He
would view her as a piece of furniture standing in his way. He would
not bump into or trip over her—figuratively speaking—this
night, as he'd done during their previous encounters. This night he
would make his way smoothly around her and deal with her neighbors
instead. If he won them over, her objections wouldn't matter.
    So
had he reasoned.
    But
how was a man to reason, faced with the apparition sitting directly
across from him?
    No
candelabra or other large table decoration obstructed the view. The
young ladies clustered nearby were easily entertained. In any event,
it was impossible to look away from the horror Miss Oldridge had
perpetrated.
    The
square neckline offered no more than a miserly glimpse of the hollow
of her throat. The sleeves ended at her wrists. If not for the high
waist underlining her bosom and the slim skirt skimming her hips, a
man would hardly know she had any figure at all.
    The
gown was a shocking waste of exquisite silk and fine workmanship.
    Then
there was her hair, which was, in a nutshell, unspeakable.
    Her
maid had driven a rigid—and crooked—part through the
middle of the glorious red-gold crown of ringlets, flattened it—with
a hot iron, it seemed—yanked the lot back, and braided and
twisted it into a stiff coil behind. A coronet of braided
silver—dented on one side—adorned this outrage.
    Only
as the meal neared its end did Alistair find a way to regain a degree
of tranquillity. He was mentally redesigning the neckline of the grey
gown and cutting the sleeves back to dainty puffs at the shoulders.
Much to his annoyance, he had to stop this promising work when Lady
Tolbert asked if he had been to Chatsworth.
    Alistair
focused on his hostess—who, despite having a married daughter
Miss Oldridge's age, contrived to appear younger and nearly a la
mode—and admitted he had not yet visited the Duke of
Devonshire's place, which lay ten miles or so north of Matlock Bath.
    "You
will wish to visit the Cascade, I am sure," said Lady Tolbert.
"A long set of shallow stone stairs runs down a hill. Over these
water cascades from reservoirs on the top of the hill above the wood.
It is most prettily done, and its effect on the nerves is wonderfully
soothing."
    Lady
Tolbert's nerves, Alistair's valet had informed him, were famous, and
the bane of her husband's existence.
    Miss
Curry, on Alistair's right, said the Cascade sounded ever so
romantic, and