Free Passion's Song (A Georgian Historical Romance) by Carolyn Jewel

Miss
Isobel St. James.”
    “ Your daughter!” Lady Julia looked
at the earl in surprise, her pale green eyes questioning before
extending a hand to him. Her voice was warm as she spoke. “Miss St.
James, it is a pleasure to meet you. You must tell me why Lord
Chessingham is trying to keep you such a secret when all of London
is talking about you! Shame on you, sir, for not introducing her to
us sooner.” She shook her raven head at him.
    “ I have only just found her.” The
earl placed a hand on Isobel’s elbow. “My daughter has been in
London a very short time.”
    “ Good evening, Lady Julia,” Isobel
said, already liking her. Lady Julia was about her own age,
certainly no older than nineteen or twenty. Her smooth complexion
was set off by glossy black hair, and her light eyes were open and
friendly. She was not tall and her fine features and slender figure
gave an impression of fragility. Isobel thought she seemed terribly
young to be the marquess’s sister. She had expected a much older
woman. She was soon so busy answering Lady Julia’s questions (How
did she like London? Had she seen many wild Indians when she lived
in America?) that she did not notice the tall gentleman who came
into the room and greeted her father.
    Julia turned her head and said, “I see my brother is
being his usual graceless self.”
    “ On the contrary,” Lord Hartforde
responded with a smile, “I merely choose to let my sister exhaust
herself first. I find it is quite useless to speak until she has
finished.” Isobel was surprised to see Lord Hartforde was much
younger than she had supposed, and even from this distance she
could see his eyes were not the piercing gray she had
imagined.
    “ My Lord Hartforde, may I present
to you my daughter, Miss Isobel St. James,” the earl said. “The
most noble Alexander, Marquess of Hartforde.”
    Lord Hartforde stepped forward and took her hand. “I
am at your service.”
    She inclined her head toward him, and when he
straightened she found herself looking up into brilliant green
eyes. Where Julia was dark, her brother was fair; his thick sandy
hair was streaked with darker blond and his skin was faintly golden
from the sun. His nose was straight and his lips were curved in a
smile that did not reach the moss green of his eyes. No one feature
was responsible for his extraordinary looks; it was rather the
combination of them all that made him so handsome. What was
remarkable was that it was quite plain he was utterly unaware of
his beauty. Perhaps because he was so fair, he never had to give it
much thought. He had such an air of quiet confidence that Isobel
was convinced even if he had been a homely man it would have made
no difference in the effect he had on her. He was not at all what
she had expected. From what she had read about him, she had been
fully prepared for a paunchy older man about her father’s age with
a dignified but stuffy demeanor who, perhaps, walked with a slight
limp from the gout.
    “ Lord Hartforde,” she murmured,
feeling as though she might drown in those eyes. She forced herself
to look away when she suddenly realized that, as he continued to
look at her, there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze. She did
not want to seem foolish or unsophisticated to anyone and, for some
reason, especially to this man. She was quite, quite certain that
Lord Hartforde had more than his share of women who made fools of
themselves over him.
    He turned away from her to speak to her father. He
was wearing a suit of dark blue with gilt buttons, and the snug fit
of his breeches showed the legs of a man who kept himself active.
Isobel was glad that, like any man of fashion, he did not wear a
wig; instead, his own tawny hair was pulled back from his forehead
and tied at the nape of his neck with a blue ribbon. His cravat was
simple; he forbore the frothy lace so popular among certain men of
society, though the lace at his cuffs was not so plain as to miss
being fashionable. She