Free The Bewitching Hour by Diana Douglas

marquise somewhere in her background. It’s said the ladies at Almack’s adore her. Though I do find that odd, given that Mrs. Danfield is such a free spirit and the ladies at Almack’s can be frightfully stuffy." She stopped briefly to catch her breath. "But that’s neither here nor there. This should be a marvelous evening. What I wouldn’t give to be eighteen again and out on the dance floor. I always loved to dance. If I were a good deal younger, I believe I might waltz. I don’t think it’s scandalous at all. It’s quite elegant and romantic.”
      “I wish I were allowed to waltz,” Cecelia said wistfully.
      “Patience,” Stratton said. “It will happen soon enough. Sooner than I like. I must confess the thought of my little sister waltzing with some young dandy doesn’t thrill me.”
      “You aren’t planning on scaring off my dance partners are you, Eugene?" Her voice held a touch of petulance. "If you do, I’ll never forgive you.”
      He reached over and touched her arm reassuringly. “I promise I will behave myself. I will only scare off the unsavory characters.”
      “Mrs. Danfield wouldn’t invite unsavory characters to her ball.”
      “Are you certain? I received an invitation, didn’t I?”
      “Don’t be silly. You haven’t been considered a rake for several years. Though,” she added slyly, “I suppose that’s only because you don’t spend any time in London.”
      “How disappointing,” he murmured. “I’ll have to remedy that.”
      “Eugie!” Aunt Mirabella swatted his knee with her fan. “You shouldn’t joke about such things.”
      “I wasn’t aware that I was joking.”
      Cecelia adjusted her skirts. “I heard that Melanie Huston’s brother had to pay people to dance with her last year.”
      “I don’t doubt it,” Stratton retorted. “Melanie Huston looks like a toad and she’s very disagreeable.
      She giggled. “That’s mean.”
      “And very crude,” Aunt Mirabella muttered.
      Stratton ignored her comment. “You’ll have plenty of dance partners, Cecelia.”
      “If you would only brighten up your colors a tiny bit,” Mirabella broke in. “And Eugie, you could use a little color as well. Why you insist on wearing black when there are so many perfectly lovely colors to choose from is beyond my understanding.”
      “Aunt Mirabella,” Stratton warned. She shut her mouth and began fanning herself again. “I think Cecelia looks very elegant this evening,” he continued. She did look quite striking in her simple, ivory satin gown with embroidered overskirt and matching shawl. Long satin gloves trimmed with seed pearls reached just below her short capped sleeves. Copper ringlets curled over her forehead and at the nape of her neck and were dressed with a pearl studded clip and cluster of miniature gardenias. A last minute improvisation after it was discovered that one of Mirabella’s dogs had chewed up her embroidered evening cap. “I believe it’s fortunate that one of those bloody dogs ate your hat. The flowers are quite fetching.”
      “Must you swear?” Mirabella asked.
      “Forgive me,” he apologized without meaning it.
      “It isn’t at all attractive,” she said. “I don’t understand why men feel the need to be so vulgar. Your grandmother didn’t think twice about adding bitters to your grandfather’s drink when he cursed and I’ve a mind to do the same.”
      “You’ve mentioned that before,” Stratton commented. “A number of times.” Every bloody time you hear me swear you mention it and it's damned annoying. He sighed with relief as the carriage finally pulled to a halt. They had arrived.
      A footman pulled the carriage door open and Stratton stepped out. It had been several years since he had attended one of the Danfield balls and he had forgotten what a