Free An Honest Deception by Alicia Quigley

children, no matter how pretty
she is.” She turned back to the Exencour box. “Now, between those three there’s
more money than in the Bank of England. Unfair, I call it.”
    During the interval
the Exencour’s box filled up alarmingly. Many of the visitors wished to greet
the viscount and viscountess, but the majority were there to hail the return of
Eynsford to England. Any number of fashionable bucks crowded the box and
several mothers seized the pretext of the slightest acquaintance with Isobel or
Eynsford’s mother to display their blushing daughters. Isobel watched in
amazement as their charming companion turned into a bored and cynical Tulip of
Fashion, eyeing the intruders coldly and dispensing caustic comments. More than
one hopeful miss wilted under the considering look he directed at her from
behind his quizzing glass.
    In the carriage
during their ride home Isobel asked her husband about his friend. “For he was
entirely delightful when we were alone, but he seemed to live up to his
reputation as a haughty fellow when others approached us,” she said.
    Lord Exencour
smiled. “Phillip is a good sort. I have known him for many years; he was a
brave officer and is an extraordinary diplomat. But he was deeply affected when
he inherited the title some years ago; the world suddenly beat a path to his
door, and it has made him cynical.”
    Isobel smiled. “And
yet he is so very pleasant when he is with friends,” she said. “Francis, I have
an excellent idea. Would not he and Letitia make a delightful pair?”
    Lord Exencour
groaned. “Isobel, your friend is widowed barely two months and you are already
planning her next wedding? What became of the Isobel Paley who thought marriage
a trap?”
    Isobel laughed and
took her husband’s hand. “She has learned what a delightful thing a good
husband can be. You can vouch for Eynsford’s character and I can see for myself
how very kind he is. Think how delightful it would be for Letitia. He is
wealthy, charming and humorous, and they both have a dislike of Society. And
how handsome they would look together!”
     “Now you have only
to overcome the objections of the principals, for you have quite convinced me,”
said Lord Exencour. “However, as Letitia swears she will not marry again,
particularly a gentleman of fashion, and Eynsford spoke to me only yesterday of
his doubts that his heart will ever be engaged, how do you hope to accomplish
the thing?”
    “It will be
difficult, but not impossible,” said Isobel. “I vow, I owe it to Letitia to
settle her happily; for are we not indebted to her for our current state of
bliss?”
    “Indeed we are, my
love,” said Exencour. “But I do not think Eynsford is the man for her.”
    “We shall see,”
said Isobel. A small silence fell as she pondered.
    Exencour sighed. “I
see I shall be much neglected until your plot bears fruit,” he said in a
put-upon tone. “I suppose this is how it is when a marriage begins to turn
sour.”
    This produced a
laugh and the hoped for kiss from his wife. All thoughts of Letitia and
Eynsford faded from Isobel’s mind.
    Eynsford had
returned home in a curiously abstracted mood. He chose not to retire
immediately, but repaired to his library, a bottle of brandy at his side and
his dog at his feet. His long, slim fingers fondled the hound’s silky ears, and
deep brown eyes met those of lapis blue.
    “Why does her face
haunt me, Foxer?” he asked. The hound looked silently at him, and placed its
wet nose in his palm.
    “She is more
beautiful than most women, I grant you,” said the marquess. “But I danced with
her only once. I suppose she would not even recall my name if she saw me now.” The
dog licked his wrist.
    Eynsford smiled
bitterly. “Indeed, it would be wonderful if she did know me, for I was much
less cynical then.” He resumed stroking the dog’s ears, each stroke pulling the
hound’s eyes closed, an expression of bliss on its face. It seemed to