Free A Scandalous Countess: A Novel of the Malloren World by Jo Beverley Page A

his young son, Telemachus. Odysseus himself was advised by goddesses, sirens, and enchantresses. More suitable, wouldn’t you say, in our case?”
     
    Georgia flicked open her fan again, wary of the currents beneath this exchange. “Didn’t one enchantress turn Odysseus and his men into swine?”
     
    “Circe,” he agreed.
     
    “My purpose is the exact opposite.”
     
    “The swine will be humbly grateful.”
     
    Perdition, her cheeks were flaming. “I didn’t mean…!”
     
    “I was only teasing.”
     
    “But my words were careless.” When had she last been so maladroit? “There’s nothing swinish about you, Lord Dracy. Lud, that makes it worse! Oh, dear.…We’d best go in.”
     
    She turned to the doors but realized that they’d paused to one side, out of sight of those inside. How had that happened?
     
    “Stay a moment,” he said. “I’ve upset you, and your father might wonder what I’ve done.”
     
    She turned back to face him. “My father might have seen you tossing me around. Why did you come out here? I don’t believe you’re afraid of anything.”
     
    “Perhaps I simply have a fondness for fresh air.”
     
    “You mean fresh sea air? Was it very difficult to leave the navy?”
     
    A sudden blankness told her she’d hit a spot.
     
    “You’rethe first person to ask that, Lady Maybury.”
     
    “And the answer?” She very much wanted to know.
     
    “I’m not sure,” he said. “It was my free choice.”
     
    “Was it? You had no choice about inheriting the title. Your cousin’s death sealed your fate there, and you would be expected to take up your responsibilities. A death ripped you from your familiar life.” Too late, she realized she was speaking of herself as much as him. “Come. We’ll cause talk, lingering out here.”
     
    She plunged into the Terrace Room as if it were escape.
     
    Dracy followed Lady Maybury into the room, feeling the shift in the wind. Conversation ceased and all eyes turned to them. Everyone here had already seen his face, so the reaction was to the entrance of the Scandalous Countess. He had to fight the instinct to step in front of her as a shield.
    Was this Lady Maybury’s first appearance before the company? She might have joined him on the terrace through another door. If so, what he’d been told of her scandal wasn’t false or overstated.
     
    One blond lady’s glance might as well have been an arrow tipped with spite. Ah yes, Miss Cardross, sister of Lady Pranksworth, the heir’s wife. She clearly considered herself fine goods, but she’d shown otherwise by curling her lip at his appearance.
     
    Would Lady Maybury be frozen out, here in her father’s house?
     
    No. Talk resumed, two women inclined their heads to her, if coolly, and here came two eager gentlemen. One was the young Duke of Beaufort, eyes bright. There was her destiny, to be sure. She’d make a stunning duchess.
     
    Dracy searched his memory for the name of the other swain. He’d attended the race, but he hadn’t encountered the man at any other race meeting.
     
    Ah, Sellerby.
     
    The Earl of Sellerby, but not quite at ease in this company. Whereas Beaufort’s brown country wear looked well-worn, Sellerby’s might rarely see daylight. Given that his conversation was all on London matters, he perhaps rarely ventured into the countryside.
     
    A Town man to the core, and Lady Maybury was treating him like an old friend, thanking him for letters but chiding him for unsuitable gifts, all in a playful way. Perhaps he, not the duke, was her choice.
     
    “Glad to see you on good terms with my daughter, Dracy.”
     
    Dracy turned to the earl. “She’s a charming lady, Hernescroft.”
     
    “Aye.” But the earl said it as if Dracy had said she had the plague. “I’ll thank you not to make more talk about her.”
     
    “Talk?”
     
    “Hefting her around as if she were a sack of grain.”
     
    “I hope I was somewhat more careful, sir, but I apologize.