Free The Indian Maiden by Edith Layton Page A

possibility of being caught up in his long-limbed embrace than she would have entertained the idea of sparring with the gentleman. Neither did he ever treat her in the least as though he considered her a woman in the sense of the word which would have made her nervous.
    Actually, she hadn’t the slightest idea of why he should be included in this company, keeping her company. But then, she couldn’t be expected to, she wasn’t English after all. It might, she thought nebulously, have something to do with his friendship with the duke. The fact of his bachelorhood did not weigh with her, for he didn’t play the cavalier with any of the young ladies present, neither did he seek the company or conversation of any of the younger men, just as he assiduously and with killing politeness, avoided contact with the mamas and chaperones. But he was exceedingly witty and scathingly clever, and he was always available for a chat with Faith, which was just as flattering to her as it was amusing. In sum, she thought him an excellent companion.
    One of the young women interrupted Faith’s thoughts and electrified the company by calling out rather breathlessly, as though she herself was so staggered at the thought that she’d had such an idea that she wanted it out and aired before her poor wits forgot she’d begotten it, “I say, let’s decorate the ballroom!”
    Lady Mary clapped her hands together and turned such a radiant face to her companions that Faith actually saw poor Will draw in his breath at the vision she presented.
    “How clever of you, Anne,” she said delightedly. “We can get flowers, and ... no, no, first we’ll think of a theme, and each of you will get a chance to suggest one, and then we’ll vote on it, and—”
    “But my dear,” the duchess said reprovingly from the corner of the vast saloon where she’d been holding quiet court with a number of visiting mamas, “have you forgotten? We already decided that this evening was to be a celebration of Midsummer’s Night and I’ve already tended to the decor.”
    “But Mama,” Lady Mary said, so carried away by the idea of a scheme that would fill up the entire long afternoon that she forgot herself so much as to dispute her parent, “we only have a few vases of flowers and the usual greenery draped over a wooden trellis near the musicians, just as we always—”
    “Mary!” the duchess interrupted in grim accents, rising to her feet as she did so, looking very like a startled pigeon in her purple gown with her white fichu rising and falling rapidly over her swollen breasts with each new outraged breath she drew. It was a constant wonderment to the ton that the short, plump duchess and her rotund husband had produced such a beauty as Lady Mary. Even her brother, the marquess, had been known affectionately as Owl in his schooldays because of the goggle eyes his father had passed on to him along with his noble title. But though friends might warn besotted gentlemen that the Incomparable might produce surprises when she produced offspring, it was impossible for them to think of such her e ditary dangers when they looked deep into her beautiful blue eyes. Although it must be admitted that not a few of them had found themselves hesitating before they’d made their offers, at the exact moment that they’d tried to look the most sincere and had gazed into the duke’s wide, bulging, but otherwise quite similarly hued, bright blue eyes.
    “But Mary,” the duchess now huffed, “you cannot remember, you admired the idea very much originally and,” she added with a broken laugh to assure everyone of how foolish young girls were, “we cannot redecorate the room each time time hangs heavy on your hands. Why don’t you all go for a stroll?”
    “Yes, Mama,” Lady Mary said dutifully, as, Faith realized, she always did. When she rose and put her hand upon the arm of a surprised and gratified Will, she looked very much like the sort of girl Faith had taken her