Free Wolf, Joan by Highland Sunset Page A

realizing how effectively the patch called attention to the blackness of her brows and lashes and the contrasting lightness of her eyes.
    The ballroom was filled with people. Unconsciously, Van moved a step closer to Edward. He put his hand under her elbow and began to talk to her easily.
    In two minutes they were surrounded by people wanting to be introduced.
    When the music finally started up, Van was immensely relieved to find that she was to dance the first dance with Edward. As she walked out on the floor, her hand in his, she glanced up at his profile and said with a flash of wry amusement, "I never thought I'd be happy to see you!"
    He threw her a mocking look. "Feeling a little overwhelmed?"
    "Feeling smothered," she returned promptly. "Dhé, but there's a crowd of people here."
    "There is. And they all want to meet you." He grinned. "Mama has surely been busy."
    "I feel like some sort of an exhibit," Van said a little acidly.
    "Not at all. You are a very beautiful young lady." Van was startled by the thrill of pleasure his words gave her. Did he really think her beautiful? A hint of steel came into his voice. "Just remember that, please, and don't start proselytizing about the bloody Stuarts."
    Van glared up at him. "You don't have to give me a lecture on manners," she said through clenched teeth. He was such a condescending Sassenach bastard, she thought forcefully, and jerked her hand away from his to take her place in the line for the dance.
    She remembered her dance with Edward very well, but the rest of her partners were a uniform blur. The one other person she did notice that evening was the extremely lovely girl whom Edward seemed to be spending so much time with.
    "Who is the girl with Edward?" she asked Lady Linton during the one brief moment they were alone. Van had never learned the trick of obtaining information slyly. If she wanted to know something, she asked.
    "That is Miss Caroline Ridley," Lady Linton replied promptly. "Isn't she lovely?"
    Caroline Ridley's hair, also unpowdered, was almost as golden as Edward's. Her eyes, Van thought sourly, were probably blue. "Yes," she said. "Very lovely."
    "It's about time Edward married," the countess said firmly. "He's had a number of years to enjoy himself, but now it's time for him to set up his nursery. He was twenty-seven this year."
    Van stared at Lady Linton. "Does he love Miss Ridley?"
    "Why shouldn't he?" the countess returned a little defensively. "She comes from an excellent family, is extremely beautiful and very charming. She appears to be a perfectly lovable girl to me."
    Van was astonished by this point of view. "One doesn't love people simply because they are lovable, Cousin Katherine," she said.
    Lady Linton stared at her son. "I don't see why not."
    Why not? thought Van. Well, if what Lady Linton had just said were true, she, for instance, would love Alan MacDonald. Alan was also perfectly lovable. The fact was, however, that Van had scarcely spared him a thought since she left Scotland. Her thoughts at this point were interrupted by two young men who, it appeared, desired to be presented to her. Van repressed a sigh and forced herself to make polite conversation.

    The following morning Signore Martelli arrived at nine o'clock and Van, who had not got to bed until three in the morning, was waiting for him. After her lesson she discovered that almost a roomful of flowers had arrived for her. The flowers were followed by a series of male callers, all of whom wished to take her driving in the park.
    Van did go driving with Viscount Standish, principally because she discovered that he was the eldest son of the Marquis of Altop, one of the English Tory nobles her father had desired to know about.
    It was a very depressing afternoon. "I am familiar with your family, Lord Standish," Van said almost as soon as they reached the park.
    "You are?" The young viscount looked both surprised and pleased. "How is that, Lady Vanessa?"
    "I believe your father