Free The Chocolate Debutante by M. C. Beaton Page A

the centerpiece, but it is for show only.”
     
    Harriet turned to the earl. “You must forgive me, my lord. I must stop Susan.”
     
    “The centerpiece?”
     
    “Yes.”
     
    “I will come with you.”
     
    They walked together into the dining room.
     
    “You have to admire an appetite like that,” declared the earl.
     
    There was very little of the centerpiece left.
     
    Susan was dreamily shoving a little drawbridge into her mouth when Harriet walked up to her.
     
    “Susan! How could you be such a pig? How could you disgrace yourself so thoroughly?”
     
    Susan smiled angelically at them. “It was for eating.”
     
    Harriet took out a handkerchief and dipped it into a jug of water, and taking Susan’s face firmly by the chin, scrubbed all the sugar crumbs from it.
     
    Then she looked at the earl. “There will be an outcry when this is discovered. What am I to do?”
     
    “Take Miss Colville back to the ballroom immediately. Go along. I will think of something.”
     
    Harriet hustled Susan off. The earl looked about him. Then he saw that the fire in the large fireplace at the end of the room was burning low but the embers were hot. He lifted the remains of the centerpiece on its base and thrust the whole thing into the glowing embers. When it had started to burn, he took several logs from the log basket and piled them on top. Better it should have disappeared entirely than be found to have been eaten.
     
    Harriet sat next to Susan and lectured her, ending up with, “And you simply walked in there by yourself and ate the whole thing?”
     
    “No,” said Susan sleepily. “That nice Sir Thomas Jeynes took me in.”
     
    “Sir Thomas is a
bad man
and you are to have nothing more to do with him. It was a wicked and silly thing to do, and unless Dangerfield can arrange things and if Sir Thomas talks about it, there will be a scandal and you will be damned as greedy. My stars! Debutantes are supposed to eat hardly anything.”
     
    Harriet then looked up in surprise, for Lord Moulton was once more asking her to dance, followed by several men who were obviously hoping for a dance with Susan.
     
    Susan watched her aunt go and then smiled radiantly on her courtiers. “I cannot dance,” she said. “I must repair a rip to my gown.”
     
    She made her way out of the ballroom and ran lightly down the stairs. The hall was temporarily empty of servants. She pushed open a door and found herself in a rather dark anteroom, the sort of room used for dealing with tradespeople. But it boasted a black horsehair-filled sofa. With a sigh she stretched out on it, put her thumb in her mouth, and fell fast asleep.
     
    And that was where Lord Dangerfield found her after being appealed to by a frantic Harriet.
     
    He shook her awake. “Come along, Miss Colville,” he said. “Time to rejoin the dance. Are you trying to frighten your aunt to death?”
     
    “I was so tired,” moaned Susan.
     
    “I have no doubt you were, having gorged yourself like a serpent.”
     
    “Why do you look at me so angrily?” asked Susan, getting to her feet. “I have never known a gentleman to be angry with me before.”
     
    “Perhaps because I am immune to your beauty, miss.”
     
    “But not to my aunt’s?”
     
    “You think your aunt beautiful?”
     
    “She is not beautiful, but she has become extremely attractive,” said Susan, stifling a yawn. “I thought it was the new clothes, but her eyes are very fine, do you not think?”
     
    “Yes, miss, very fine.”
     
    “Are you going to marry her?”
     
    “I am weary of the Season before it has begun. I do not think I shall marry anyone.”
     
    “Oh, what a pity you do not want Aunt Harriet. But there are plenty of men who do,” said Susan.
     
    That artless remark irritated the earl. He thought Harriet was indifferent to him. He had not considered that she might be attracted to someone else, and began to feel angry with her.
     
    The sharp eyes of Sir Thomas