Free Lord and Master by Rosemary Stevens Page B

continuing to award his attentions to Elfleta.
    Lord Christopher nodded his head toward the couple. “Miss Blenkinsop would never follow in those types of footsteps. Quiet little thing. Would not give Ravenswood a minute’s trouble. And I imagine he would value a compliant wife.”
    Daphne pursed her lips. Was that what Lord Ravenswood was looking for here in Town during the Season? A compliant wife? How disappointing. How dull. It was certainly a good thing she learned this bleak truth before she became overly fond of him!
    Her dance with Lord Christopher ended, and her next partner came to claim her. For an hour Daphne danced and flirted with several gentlemen, all the while a part of her mind dwelled on Lord Ravenswood and his search for a submissive wife. One fact was clear in her brain: she could never be thought of as docile and manageable.
    It was only when Lord Guy minced over to her with a glass of lemonade that she was able to turn her thoughts to other matters.
    “You must be thirsty, Miss Kendall, after being dragged about the dance floor by those clodpoles,” Lord Guy asserted in his superior way.
    In truth, something to drink was welcome, but Daphne feared Lord Guy’s presence alone was enough to put a sour taste in her mouth, without the addition of the tart lemonade. She reminded herself of Miss Shelby’s reputation, though, and thanked him warmly.
    Across the room Anthony watched them with a jaundiced eye. He stood beside Mrs. Blenkinsop, who was holding a conversation with another woman. Miss Blenkinsop had been led away for the dance.
    Anthony could hear Mrs. Blenkinsop boasting at the fact that her daughter’s hand had been immediately solicited for a dance by no less a personage than a marquess upon their entering the ballroom. He believed the calculating woman had probably arranged it herself. He was no green one and recognized blatant attempts at matchmaking when he saw them.
    The Blenkinsops had been all affability when he had tried to apologize for his tardiness earlier at dinner. But of course, they gushed sympathetically, they understood about the accident. And how was the poor dear kitty? Why, their Elf would be positively downhearted at the thought of an animal being hurt.
    This assertion had not proven correct, however, in Anthony’s estimation. Upon hearing the story of Mihos’s accident, Elfleta had asked quietly if the cat was dead. When assured it was not, no great relief could be detected on her pale face.
    Anthony found himself puzzled at his own reaction to Miss Blenkinsop’s uncaring attitude toward Mihos. What did it matter if she disliked animals? He was surely not allowing the striped cat to hold a place in his affections, he thought, forgetting how his heart had stood still when he saw the cat lying on the road unconscious.
    Still, he could not help but compare Elfleta’s disregard for the cat’s well-being to Miss Kendall’s compassionate nursing of the animal.
    He gave himself a mental shake. There were enough servants at Raven’s Hall to handle any injuries to the creatures in their care. It would not matter if his wife ignored the needs of animals.
    Furthermore it was absurd to make the assumption that Miss Kendall’s caring nature for animals would extend to humans, most particularly himself. His chances of leading a peaceful, well-ordered existence were much greater if he chose a plain, obedient girl to wed, regardless of how lukewarm her nature was.
    Elfleta was returned by the marquess to her mama, who cheerfully handed her daughter over to the earl for the waltz.
    On the floor Anthony marveled at the fragile girl who performed the steps of the waltz flawlessly.
    “Miss Blenkinsop, I must congratulate you on your dancing.”
    “Thank you, my lord.”
    “Did you spend many hours with a dancing master?”
    “Yes, my lord.”
    “I am not holding you too tightly, am I?”
    “No, my lord.”
    Anthony felt smug. She was exactly what he wanted in a wife. Then he