Free Rexanne Becnel by The Matchmaker-1 Page A

coral. Too much orange for my delicate complexion. However, I must say Madame Henri was correct, for it suits you so very well. You look absolutely stunning. Even your eyes seem to sparkle with more color than is their wont.”
    “Do you think so?” Olivia stared doubtfully at herself in the mirror. To be sure, her new gown was lovely, and such a
pleasant change from the pastels her mother insisted she wear in town. Also, her hair was being most cooperative this evening. That new lavender rinse must be the reason it looked so soft and shiny.
    But what accounted for the flush of color in her cheeks, and the glints of emerald and gold in her eyes? She wrinkled her nose at her reflection. She hated to think that nervous anticipation about encountering the awful Lord Hawke might actually enhance her appearance.
    “It must be the country air,” she said, turning away from the looking glass. “I told you I was weary of the crush in town.”
    “I feel obliged to warn you, then, that there should be quite a crush tonight. According to Penny, her ball is one of the biggest events of the year in Doncaster. There will be all sorts of new gentlemen here, not just the town society which you seem uninterested in of late, but at least one viscount, and several very wealthy squires.”
    Augusta removed her pearl earbobs and screwed on her favorite opals instead. She twisted her head from side to side, admiring the way they dangled and swayed. “By the by,” she continued. “Did you hear? That Hawke fellow that we’ve yet to meet, he is actually Lord Hawke, Baron Hawke of Woodford Court. You won’t remember, but Woodford Court is just a mile or so from Byrde Manor.”
    At that bit of startling news Olivia spun around, one of her gloves tugged but halfway up her arm. “Are you certain?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and strained.
    “Oh yes,” Augusta blithely continued. “We didn’t know them well, for they were abroad quite often while your father and I were in Scotland. But I did meet them once or twice. Lovely family. He was just a lad then, twelve or so, I’d say. Away at school most of the time. I’m told that the rest of his family is dead now. His parents and his brother.”
    Augusta paused. “Did I mention that he’s unmarried?” she added, her voice rousing from its somber musing. “Baron Neville Hawke of Woodford Court, never wed and nearly thirty. Tsk, tsk. Well, here’s your opportunity, Olivia. You’ve been
complaining about the gentlemen of the ton. Unless Lord Hawke is one of those awful Scottish bumpkins, bearded and too robust for proper manners, you may find him quite to your tastes.”
    Olivia listened to her mother with growing dread. That man was her neighbor? An odd shiver marked its way up her back. God help her if her mother took a liking to Lord Hawke as a son-in-law. “Are you so eager to marry me off that you would consign me to the wilds of Scotland, you who have ever found excuses to avoid visiting Byrde Manor?”
    “I have nothing against Scotland, Olivia. Nor against Byrde Manor. In truth, the years I spent there were the best part of my marriage to your father. It was only in town—” She broke off and waved her hand. “Never mind all that. I enjoy country life and town life. It’s only that Byrde Manor is a little too remote for me. However, your tastes differ from mine. I believe we both can agree on that. Come now,” she added, tugging the scooped neckline of her bodice down another half inch. “’Tis time for the two of us to make our entrance.”
    Entrance indeed, Olivia fretted, tugging her own bodice up. She did not want to see Lord Hawke, her neighbor. She stifled a muttered oath. If that man ruined her visit to Byrde Manor with his maddeningly arrogant manner—if he so much as raised one of his arrogant brows at her or smirked a mocking smirk—
    She jerked the door open and started out. She didn’t know exactly what she would do. But she knew she would not let