Free A Lady of Letters by Andrea Pickens Page B

aim is! My head has been hit with too many apples to make light of such a threat and so I shall keep a close guard my tongue in The Incomparable's presence." His expression became more thoughtful. "I hadn't heard that Ludlowe was dangling for a wife, but mayhap he is beginning to think of settling down. Come to think of it, I've not seen him pay the least attention to, er, young misses before, but after all, he is well over thirty and must consider the future."
     
    "I should think Marianne would be happier with someone closer to her own age," she mused. "Rather than with an older man who is likely very set in his ways."
     
    "He's hardly in his dotage, and his family and fortune are more than acceptable. In fact, from what I gather, the fellow would be considered quite a prize on the Marriage Mart."
     
    "Hmmm," was all that Augusta said in reply, but the set of her chin made it clear she was not entirely convinced.
     
    Ashford executed one last spin, nearly trodding on both her feet in the process. It took a moment to untangle their steps, and by that time, the music had stopped. "Sorry," he murmured, leading her off to one side of the room. "I have never gotten the knack of that cursed dance. Much too complicated for a fellow to remember all the moves."
     
    Funny, thought Augusta, it hadn't seemed terribly difficult for her partner the last time around.
     
    "Care for a lemonade?" he asked, as he stopped near the set of open french doors leading out to the terraced garden.
     
    "I daresay you have no idea what sort of damage that could lead to. It would be much safer were you to offer plain water. That, at least, leaves no lasting trace ."
     
    Augusta's shoulders stiffened at the sound of the baritone voice behind them and to her chagrin, the color began to rise to her cheeks. Ashford looked at her, a question on his lips.
     
    "That is most unfair of you, sir, to call attention to a past... accident of which you were at least partly to blame."
     
    "I am beginning to think it was no accident," murmured Sheffield, a note of humor still in his voice. His eyes slowly swept over her new gown, taking in the stylishly low cut of the bodice, the snug capped sleeves and the way the lush silk clung to the sinewy curves of her form. "You are looking... very well this evening, Miss Hadley."
     
    "For a shrewish spinster," she replied through gritted teeth.
     
    The Earl's lips repressed a twitch. "Most especially for a shrewish spinster."
     
    Ashford was moved to take another look himself and his eyes widened slightly. "I say, Gus, you do look different." He swallowed hard. "That gown is a vast improvement over your others. You look... well, you look... very well," he finished lamely, his face now nearly as red as hers. The sound of the musicians warming up for the upcoming country dances spared him any further embarrassment. "Lord, I'm promised to Miss Denton for this next set! You'll excuse me if I take my leave, Gus?" Though worded as a question, he didn't wait to hear the reply. With a cursory nod to Sheffield he turned and bolted off.
     
    Augusta repressed the desire to aid his progress through the crowd with a well-placed kick at his backside. How could he leave her alone in the company of the Earl!
     
    As if he could read her thoughts, Sheffield allowed himself a ghost of a smile. "A dull dog indeed," he murmured. His gloved hand came around her elbow and guided her to a quieter spot.
     
    Though feeling in no great charity with her friend at the moment, she felt compelled to come to his defense. "I have no idea what you mean," she said haltingly. "Jamie is a solid, intelligent gentleman, and a loyal friend who— "
     
    "Who appears to be blind as a mole, not to speak of abandoning you for the charms of some undoubtedly flighty young miss."
     
    "We have been friends since childhood." she said stiffly. "He hardly thinks of me in any other sort of way."
     
    "As I said, a fellow of little imagination." He signaled for a