Free Lord Runthorne's Dilemma: A Regency Romance by Sarah-Jane Steele Page A

Elizabeth had last seen her disappear into the Park with Lord Runthorne, she had, somehow, found the time to wash the dust from her face, change into a pretty leaf green muslin gown and rearrange her hair into a deceptively simple coil. She looked like a delicate wood nymph. In contrast Elizabeth felt like an unkempt hobgoblin.
    “ And here is my angel,” Lady Delphine said. “Aurelia, my dear, you always look so lovely.”
    Elizabeth felt the betraying flush rising again but, keeping her head high, she dropped a slight curtsey to the company and turned to leave. The door swung open again and Lord Runthorne entered, followed by Charles. They, too, had found the time to discard their riding clothes in favour of attire more suited to a lady’s parlour. Elizabeth was sure she saw his eyes flick from her dishevelled appearance to Miss Lacey’s immaculate vision.
    She narrowed her eyes, silently daring him to comment and she saw his lips twitch.
    “Allow me,” he murmured, holding the door for her.
    Elizabeth smiled through gritted teeth. “You are entirely too kind, my lord,” she said. As she swept past with as much dignity as she could muster, she distinctly heard his low chuckle and knew she had been right to distrust his smile.
    Once in the relative privacy of the hall, Elizabeth allowed her mask to slip.
    He was laughing at you . That hurts, admit it .
    Elizabeth blinked rapidly. She would not cry.
    She lifted her chin, just as she had been taught and strode towards the stairs, her boot heels ringing, staccato, on the floor.
    One of the household tabbies had escaped the heat of the kitchen and was draped on the lowest step, her belly flat to the cool surface.
    “ Come on, puss,” Elizabeth said, bending to stroke the rough fur. “Out of my way.”
    The cat did not move, merely staring at her with superior green eyes.
    “Please?”
    The end of the cat ’s tail twitched, but it did not move. Elizabeth tapped her foot. It was ridiculous to be thwarted by a cat. She slid her hands around the cat’s full belly and tried to lift. It was like trying to move a dead weight.
    Worse, it was like trying to move a boneless dead weight that flowed through her hands. Not since she was six years old had Elizabeth felt such an overwhelming desire to stamp her foot. Instead she rearranged her heavy riding skirt and lifted her foot to step over the unhelpful cat.
    “ Perhaps Captain Maybourne would buy a dog,” she said. The cat chose that moment to jump to its feet and weave around her ankle, almost toppling her, before streaking away. “A big dog.”
    “ Who are you talking to, Elizabeth?” Mary stood above her on the stairs.
    Elizabeth smiled, a little embarrassed. “One of the kitchen tabbies,” she said. “You seem different, my love.”
    Mary blushed and ducked her head, for a moment reverting to her schoolroom self, but then she lifted her head and smiled. There was a confidence about her, a maturity that had been lacking until now. “Oh, I have just arranged my hair a little differently. Captain Fitzalan was kind enough to tell me that it is the latest style in London.”
    “ Charles is good that way,” Elizabeth said. Mary shot her a sharp glance as though she knew she was being humoured. Then she frowned.
    “ You, however, are not looking at all happy, Elizabeth,” she said, coming down the stairs and taking Elizabeth’s hands. “Whatever is the matter?”
    Elizabeth shrugged. “I am being a little silly, I think,” she said and explained what had happened in her aunt’s parlour.
    Mary listened, her head tilted to one side, her eyes narrowed in thought.
    “ So,” she said, after a pause, “you feel that Aurelia is deliberately making you appear dowdy by dressing well, whilst Lady Delphine undermines you at every turn and Lord Runthorne is somehow complicit in all this?”
    Elizabeth gaped at this summation. “Well, put like that, of course not,” she said.
    “ How would you put it?”
    “ Well,