Free Elizabeth Mansfield by A Very Dutiful Daughter

into the smiling eyes of Roger Denham.

Chapter Six
    “Allow me, Miss Glendenning,” Lord Denham said, helping her up.
    “M-my lord!” Letty gasped. “I didn’t know … That is, I didn’t expect to s-see you here.”
    “But I expected to see
you
here,” he said, smiling at her with polished aplomb, “and I hoped I should find an opportunity to renew our acquaintance.”
    His self-assurance only succeeded in shaking her own. “Thank you … I mean, I don’t think … That is …” and her voice petered out in hopeless dismay. She had no idea of what to say. She was so startled by his unexpected appearance that her mind didn’t seem to be functioning. What had brought him to Bath of all places? This was scarcely the sort of place to attract a Corinthian whose activities had always been at the very center of the fashionable circles. But there was no time now for puzzling over riddles. She must say something—anything!—and make her escape. “I believe,” she murmured, “that my aunt is … er … waiting for me. Please excuse me, sir.”
    She glanced up at him to find him regarding her with a most disconcerting look of amusement in his eyes. “Of course, my dear,” he said, “but can you not spare a moment to greet my mother? She’s sitting right there, directly behind you, and is eager, I’m sure, to say hello to you.”
    “Your mother?” Letty wheeled around.
    Lady Denham was smiling up at her warmly. “How do you do, Letitia, dear?” she asked, holding out her hand. “How very lovely you are looking this evening.”
    Letty took the proferred hand and made a nervous curtsy. “Good evening, Lady Denham,” she said awkwardly, and relapsed into blushing silence. She knew she should make some response to Lady Denham’s compliment, but something seemed to have happened to her wits. A few phrases flashed through her mind—“I didn’t see you sitting there,” or “How delightful to see you here in Bath,” or, “You, too, are looking very well this evening”—all of which she rejected for the inanities they were. But before her silence had become noticeable, a movement at the front of the room drew their eyes. The musicians were making their entrance.
    “Oh, dear,” murmured Lady Denham, “we shall have to postpone our conversation. But never mind. You are with your aunt, are you not? Tell her that Roger and I shall look for you both at the intermission.”
    Letty bobbed another awkward curtsy, smiled weakly, and started quickly down the aisle. Suddenly, realizing that she had not said goodbye to Roger Denham, she turned and glanced back over her shoulder. He was standing where she had left him, looking after her. Meeting his eyes, which seemed to her to have a rather unholy gleam of mischief in them, she gave him the briefest of nods and turned quickly to rejoin her aunt. So precipitous was she in turning away from his amused regard that she blundered into a gentleman who was proceeding up the aisle in the opposite direction. Ready to sink into the ground in mortification, she made a blushing and incoherent apology to the stranger who smilingly assured her that it was all his fault.
    To add to her chagrin, she had a feeling that Roger had witnessed the entire scene. Unable to keep herself from confirming her fear, she glanced back up the aisle and saw, to her horror, that not only hadhe been watching but that he was coming toward her again. What can he want
now
? she wondered as she watched his approach fearfully. But when he came up to her, he merely grinned and said, “I’m afraid I neglected to return this to you.” And he held out Prue’s forgotten shawl.
    “Th-thank you,” she murmured miserably, and taking the shawl, fled down the aisle.
    Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she slid into the seat beside Prue just as the first notes of Handel’s
Water Music
sounded. Prue, not the least bit interested in the music, leaned toward Letty. “What kept you?” she asked in a loud