Free Rhonda Woodward by White Rosesand Starlight

easier to proceed if Marina walked next to Mr. Sefton, following Mr. Penhurst and Deirdre, who almost preened at being able to go ahead of her sister.
    Her shyness with Sefton continued and she could think of nothing to say. She felt a good deal of relief when she espied Mr. Penhurst’s sister, Mr. Fairdale and Mrs. Langford.
    Marina had been introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Langford last night, and the only thing she had observed was that Mrs. Langford was petite and plump, but prone to a perpetual smile and her husband was portly and wheezed. It appeared Mrs. Langford and the beautiful Lady Darley were close friends.
    She greeted the others, noting that Deirdre favored Mr. Fairdale with a dazzling smile, no doubt because he had been one of the first young men to ask her to dance last night.
    Another man came out of the receiving office, and Marina’s good mood went flat when she saw he was the odious Marquis.
    Watching him stroll along, Marina did have to admit that he was an impressive example of manly elegance. His cutaway slate-blue coat, deep cream double-breasted waistcoat and shining black top boots were the first stare of fashion.
    Passing a critical eye over him, Marina decided that he was too large, too muscular to be truly fashionable, and she much preferred the slimmer Mr. Sefton. And she certainly did not like Lord Cortland’s cool, nearly bored expression.
    After all the greetings were exchanged, Mr. Penhurst said, “We were just going to see the church, I understand the altar and stained glass have an interesting history. Would you join us, my dear Misses Buckleigh? We would appreciate knowledgeable tour guides.”
    Deirdre agreed for them with alacrity and the group left High Street, taking a picturesque lane, lined with bare dogwood and crab apple trees, the ladies chatting about the ball. Soon they rounded the lane and a picturesque stone church, built during the reign of Henry the Third, came into view.
    “My, it is lovely,” Lady Darley exclaimed.
    Marina felt a surge of pride, for generations of Buckleighs had worshiped, married, and been laid to rest within its mellow stone walls.
    Upon entering the nave with its soaring vaulted ceiling, Mr. Fairdale said, “Cortland, perhaps you and I should stand back. Wouldn’t want the ladies to be struck by lightning, too, eh?”
    Everyone laughed at this sally, and Marina thought of the gossip Mama had shared this morning. By the satirical smile the Marquis gave Mr. Fairdale in reply, she could believe any bad thing of him.
    Marina moved past Mr. Fairdale to join Lady Darley and Mrs. Langford. Once they reached the altar, Marina was able to share a good deal of its history. The group dispersed so that they could peruse the impressive masonry and notable stained glass windows at their ease. Marina was most pleased that the sophisticated guests of Ridgeton Abbey seemed to find much in the old church to interest them.
    Marina took a side aisle to better look at her favorite window, which depicted King George slaying the dragon. The afternoon sun lit the jewel-toned glass to its most beautiful.
    Mr. Sefton came to stand next to her and gazed up at the window. “This is very fine work, indeed.”
    “Yes,” she said, feeling almost breathless by his nearness. “It is a later addition, having been commissioned after a terrific storm damaged the old window beyond repair.”
    “And I see by this brass plaque that it was the third Baron Buckleigh who made that commission.”
    “Our family history is connected to this church since its founding.”
    She glanced up at him, marveling that she could feel so breathless and yet speak of such mundane things. He looked deeply into her eyes for a moment longer before turning back to look up at the window.
    “Miss Buckleigh,” he began in a very low tone, “Although for my part I do not regret our moments on the terrace last night, I would apologize if you felt at all discomposed by my actions. My only excuse is that I was