Free The Valentine's Day Ball by Julia Parks

bewitching as his tales of the exotic Indies wove a spell around the listeners.
    In response to Miss Aubrey’s query about the natives of the islands, the viscount looked about furtively and whispered, “Voodoo.”
    Cherry shivered. “Do tell,” she almost whispered.
    Lord Devlin’s stories of pirates and scenery were naught compared to his next tale.
    “Their superstitions are many, intertwined with their native religions as well as bits of Christianity. It was a well known fact to the landowners that on certain nights of the year it was best to simply lock one’s doors and not venture outside until daylight.” Lord Devlin’s narrowed eyes moved from one listener to another.
    Cherry breathed an “Ohhh.” He quirked one brow at Jane’s sardonic smile, but he continued his tale with an ominous laugh.
    When his story was told, Devlin’s smile broke the spell.
    “A fascinating story, to be sure,” wheezed Havelock, who promptly settled back for a little snooze.
    After putting away the remains of their cold collation, Jane settled beside Mary Aubrey. Mary was twenty years old, the veteran of two Seasons in London, and still unmarried. It was rumoured that she would not be averse to receiving the attentions of the local curate, Mr. Primrose, but her mother wanted better things for the eldest of four daughters.
    Mary was often overlooked at social functions. Her appearance was neither striking nor repulsive. And her wit was sharp and, at times, biting. Jane preferred Mary’s company to women closer to her own age.
    “It is just as you predicted,” said Miss Aubrey quietly, her nod indicating her brother and Lord Devlin dancing attendance on Cherry who smiled and flirted with her bewitching blue eyes.
    Jane smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, Mary. Cherry isn’t deliberately rude. She doesn’t realize one shouldn’t monopolize the only two eligible partis at such a small gathering.”
    Mary stretched her lanky frame and leaned against the stone wall at her back. “Don’t forget, one of those eligible partis is my brother. I’ve grown accustomed to that puppy dog look. He’s been making a cake of himself since the day Cherry turned the tables and quit tagging along behind him.”
    They shared a quiet laugh before Mary continued. “Of course, Lord Devlin is a different case entirely, but I have no interest there. He seemed almost annoyed when we arrived and interrupted your tête-à-tête.”
    “And it was of such a personal nature,” scoffed Jane. “I was merely relating the history of the abbey. While I do not care for Lord Devlin’s manner, he does seem possessed of a more lively intelligence than the average spoiled darling of the ton .”
    Without thinking, her eyes came to rest on her Cousin Roland, who snored quietly, his head listing to one side where he leaned against a large stone. Jane’s mouth twisted in distaste. No wonder he slept after the vast quantities of food and wine he had consumed.
    Not knowing what turn Jane’s mind had taken, Mary said, “Still, he was very solicitous to me, serving my plate, seeing that I was comfortably seated.”
    Jane frowned. “Cousin Ro—? Oh ! You mean Lord Devlin.”
    “Yes, Miss Lindsay. May I be of service?”
    Jane blushed painfully as she peered up at the tall viscount who had wandered their way while she was wool-gathering.
    “No, Lord Devlin. I…I was speaking to Miss Aubrey.”
    He nodded, but she felt a fool.
    To the group in general, Lord Devlin said, “I propose that we see this crypt Miss Lindsay was telling me about earlier. Who wants to join us?”
    Cherry shuddered delicately. “I wouldn’t go near such a horrid place!”
    Mary shook her head also. “You must count me out, I’m afraid. There are probably mice and perhaps bats.”
    “Lord Pierce?”
    “I saw it many years ago,” he said, never taking his eyes from Cherry. “But I wouldn’t mind venturing down there again.”
    “Oh, no, Peter. You mustn’t leave Mary and me