Free The Selfless Sister by Shirley Kennedy Page A

out soon enough. He regarded her thoughtfully. “Will you be staying long?”
    “I shall be acting as companion to my aunt,” she answered promptly. “Recently she fell and hurt her hip.”
    Concern filled his eyes. “Sorry to hear that. Lady Linley is a fine woman. I have always wished her the best. Despite the tragedy, I never...” He paused, as if considering whether or not to continue his line of thought, then decided against it. Light amusement filled his voice as he remarked, “So you watch birds and you sketch them. I’d wager that a young lady as attractive as you will also be taking in the social delights of York.”
    “I shall go to my first ball tomorrow night. Lady Perry’s ball.” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but somehow blurted, “Will you be there?”
    “I? At lady Perry’s?” He burst into laughter. When he calmed, he said, “Forgive me. Obviously they’ve kept you in the dark. No, I won’t be going to Lady Perry’s ball, or any of those social events of York so dear to the ton. You’ll find out why soon enough.”
    She regarded him with somber curiosity, dying to ask, find out what ? But she managed to refrain, telling herself she would appear much too forward if she asked. Besides, she did not want to give him the satisfaction. As if she cared whether he came to the ball or not! “I suppose I shall find out in due course,” she responded, as indifferently as she could. It was difficult, though, to remain indifferent toward a man as attractive as this one. She gathered up her sketch pad and pencil. “I shall be leaving now. ‘Twas my pleasure to meet you, Lord Belington.” She started away.
    “One thing before you go,” he called after her. She turned. He was standing in a very masculine way —legs apart, one hand clutching that “very fine” shotgun of his, the other resting on his hip pushing back his jacket so that she could see how well-muscled his chest was beneath his shirt and stock. Her heart beat a touch faster. With an odd smile he said, “You were mistaken concerning your location. You are standing on my land, not Linley’s.”
    “But that’s impossible. I was careful not to —” Suddenly she remembered the little brook she had leaped across without a thought. That must be the creek Aunt Pernelia was talking about. She had thought it much too small to be a creek, it was merely a tiny brook, but obviously she was wrong. How embarrassing. “I see my mistake. Sorry, it won’t happen again.”
    He awarded her with one of the most devastatingly charming smiles she had ever received. “It’s quite all right, Miss Linley. If you’d care to come back, perhaps the yellowhammer will visit you again.”
    Was he mocking her? She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. She only knew she should get away from this overpoweringly masculine man before she made a fool of herself. “Thank you, but perhaps my yellowhammer will see fit to visit the Linley side of the creek, so I shall have no need to cross. Good day, sir.”
    Douglas watched, enchanted, as the tall, trim figure disappeared down the path. Lucinda Linley , he repeated silently. What was there about her that caused a tug of desire deep within himself? For one thing, she was beautiful with that creamy white skin, shining chestnut hair that hung freely down her back and bounced when she walked, and those deep, wide-set brown eyes. But what was beauty? In London, he’d met dozens of young belles, all attractive, for whom he felt nothing but indifference. Give him an older woman every time. Like Rose. What she’d lost in looks she’d gained in wisdom and maturity.
    This Lucinda Linley, though... He kept seeing that wise, assessing look in her eye. No doubt she was a very bright young lady, despite being pretty. He tried to assess how old she was —he’d wager well into her twenties—and wondered why she was not married. Not for lack of suitors, surely...
    But why was he even thinking about her? Memories of the