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

sat back down to talk to Lady Julia, but she
could not take her eyes off him. Though she tried to resist, her
gaze constantly moved to him. He was talking with Lord Burke and
Mr. Swaffing, and she felt herself color when he saw her looking at
him. After that, she succeeded in keeping her attention focused
elsewhere until supper was announced.
    Lord Burke lost no opportunity in taking Lady
Julia’s arm. When Edward took his wife’s arm, and Mr. Swaffing Mrs.
Vincent’s arm, Isobel had no choice but to take the arm Lord
Hartforde offered her. She stared at the buckles of his shoes as
they walked; they were fairly sparkling with diamonds. Isobel sat
on her father’s left, with Lord Hartforde across from her. She
hardly noticed where anyone else sat.
    “ And, of course, you are planning
to give a ball for Miss St. James sometime soon…?” Julia smiled
over at Isobel before giving the earl a stern look.
    “ I had thought at the new year,”
he replied.
    “ Wonderful! Everyone will be back
from the country, bored to tears and anxious to start the new
season!” Julia clapped her hands. “Isobel, I shall give you the
name of my dressmaker.” She fixed the earl with a grim stare. “She
will need a gown, my lord! And this one must be
exceptional!”
    The conversation turned to horses, and Lord Burke
was, he declared, shocked to discover Isobel had not been at Ascot.
Lady Julia proved knowledgeable on the subject and soon engaged
Lord Burke and Mr. Swaffing in a heated debate over a horse Lord
Burke claimed to be worth its weight in gold. He professed to be
stunned, therefore, when the earl announced he owned the fastest
filly in the empire, bar none. “You do not know what you say!” he
cried.
    Mr. Swaffing was strangely quiet.
    “ A thousand pounds says my Gazetta
outruns your nag, Burke!”
    “ Done!”
    Mrs. Vincent, during all this, did her utmost to be
charming to Lord Hartforde, who, it seemed to Isobel, was spending
a great deal of time leaning her way. Lord Hartforde smiled when
Mrs. Vincent avowed she simply did not see the sense in racing,
though she would allow a race could be an exciting thing to
see.
    Lord Hartforde thought Mrs. Vincent was an extremely
pretty woman, and he glanced around the table to confirm his
estimation that she was the handsomest woman present. He would go
so far as to admit the earl’s daughter was practically lovely, and,
though she was rather too slender for his taste, he did not fail to
note her figure was not in the least displeasing. He considered
Chessingham to be a good friend and an important ally in the House,
but he had absolutely no doubt that he was hoping for a match
between them, and no matter how advantageous such a union might be,
he had no desire to be married again. Once had been quite enough
for him, and he could not help but believe his wife’s death had
been a blessing in disguise. They had all too soon discovered they
detested each other. He was in no particular hurry to beget an heir
while there was still so much time left in which to accomplish the
deed.
    The conversation turned to the opening of Parliament
the next week, and Lord Hartforde was impressed to find Miss St.
James knew something about English politics. He laughed when she
turned to him after demanding to know Lord Burke’s political
leanings and bluntly asked, “Of course, you are a Whig, are you
not, my lord?”
    “ Naturally, Miss St. James,” he
responded. “And yourself?”
    “ As you know, all women are
disfranchised so I can be neither Whig nor Tory,” she said
tartly.
    “ But if you were?” he
insisted.
    “ A Whig. And I should work
tirelessly to see that all English people, men and women, have the
right to vote!”
    “ Your daughter certainly sounds
like one of those dashed colonists, Chessingham!” He turned away
from a pair of flashing eyes.
    Not long afterwards, the earl asked Lady Julia for
any suggestions she might offer to ensure the success of the ball
he meant to give