Free Her Gilded Prison (Daughters of Sin Book 1) by Beverley Oakley Page A

to refer to Araminta like this, reinforcing the bond between them.
    Humphry toyed with his drink. “Oh, he’ll make her an offer before the end of the week,” he predicted. “Yet he seems distracted.”
    “By her beauty.”
    “No, something else.”
    Sybil stared. It was unusual for Humphry to notice anything going on around him at the Grange. A bitter knot lodged in her throat. Of course, his mistress had departed, exhausted by a condition which “only nine months would cure”. It was the only reason he was at her side so late this evening. Humphry would be chafing at the separation, however he’d soon invent an excuse to leave his family.
    She didn’t respond at first. Then, forcing a smile, agreed. “I suppose we are all a little distracted. Events have not run their usual course, have they, Humphry?”
    His expression was quizzical. They never referred to his mistress, even obliquely, so he chose to discount any possibility of a reference to Lizzy Hazlett, saying instead, “Yes, and he doesn’t disappoint, does he?”
    Sybil concurred without hesitation. “He is as charming as he is handsome. And he’s kind, too, Humphry. Surprisingly kind for a young man so used to having the ladies presumably throw themselves at him. I think he’s had a harder life than we’d imagine.”
    “Now you’re going overboard, my dear. I merely was comparing him with ghastly Edgar, who might have stood in his shoes had he not come out so badly at Corunna.”
    “I doubt he would, the way Araminta’s looking at Stephen.”
    Humphry’s mouth twitched. “No, I doubt Araminta would have looked at Edgar with quite such soulful eyes.” He studied the pair. Araminta looked dazzling in her white  muslin  gown  with  its green  sash  and  matching  emerald  earrings.  Her  dark, glossy hair had been swept up into a becoming cluster of curls that fell from a topknot.
    She looked very innocent and very desirable, surely a heady mix, thought Sybil, wondering what elusive qualities enticed a man. Certainly she’d never possessed the right ones. In all her nearly forty years no man had ever looked at her twice.
    Humphry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But she’d have been standing there with exactly the same intentions had it been her cousin Edgar. We both know that.”
    Was that admiration? Sybil tilted her head. “Are you suggesting that Araminta’s ambition is greater than her discernment?”
    Humphry chuckled. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I say ‘good on her’ for exercising all her wiles if that avenue will bring her happiness. Life would be a misery if we simply accepted our lot.”
    Sybil nearly spilled her drink. With a suspicious look at her husband’s empty glass, which the footman was currently refilling, she murmured, “You sometimes surprise me, Humphry, with your profound comments.”
    “Do I, my dear?” He glanced at Sybil, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. A spasm of some tiny fondness for him jerk to life deep within her.
    Sharply truncated when he said, still kindly, “As a boy my pater thought I’d surely grow out of my adolescent mooning and accept that duty was the only mantra. I was young, lacking experience of myself and of life. I knew no better. If that’s what pater believed, then surely it was true.” He sipped his drink, both philosophical and melancholic. “Sadly for both of us, I accepted the pater’s edict.” He patted his chest. “For this loyal heart was not made with room for you, Sybil, and for that I’ve always felt a trifle guilty.”
    Oh Lord, was she going to cry?
    She’d give her all right now to be able to respond, to pour out her desire for a love she was powerless to grasp and perhaps get something in return. Any love. Even an apologetic gesture of friendship. How dried-up, stale and superfluous she’d become. Here was not the place and no doubt Humphry had chosen to speak here for that reason.
    So she was relieved when he broke the