Free An Affair of the Heart by Joan Smith Page A

“Mama would not like Wanda to be alone with Claymore, when we are all here at the same inn. It would look so very odd.”
    “Let us all go into the common room,” Wanda suggested. She was by no means sure George had seen her, and certainly he had no way of knowing her escort was a titled gentleman, unless she could call him “my lord” within that other party’s earshot
    Clay was not accustomed to dining in a public room when he chaperoned ladies, but he was broad-minded enough to submit to the plan, even though he had no idea why they found it so desirable. In general, ladies desired all the consequence of private parlors and any other nicety that money could procure. He was not long in the dark as to why the common room was preferred.
    “Why, there is George Hibbard,” Missie announced in her trumpeting young voice, immediately audible throughout the entire room. “And with the Langdons. I shall drop over and say hello to them.” She dashed off, while Wanda examined the white tablecloth with great interest, and asked whether Ellie did not find the room very pleasant.
    “Yes, very pleasant,” Ellie agreed, wondering at her sister’s mood. If she had decided not to have George, she ought to be happy he was leaving her alone. But she was not happy. That wan smile and martyred expression might be indicative of many things, but certainly not of joy.
    Secure that Missie would impart the identity of her escort, Wanda became quite lively during the meal. After a glass of wine she even said she was looking forward to the return trip in the curricle. Such fun driving the open carriage, and the sun would be behind them.
    This animation from his erstwhile lover, and even more the knowledge that her escort was a marquis, loaded with blunt, as Missie had happily told him, so enraged George Hibbard that he bent over backward to show Wanda how little he cared. This was made very easy by the presence of Nora Langdon, who was more than willing to flirt outrageously, pop morsels from her plate into his mouth, roll her eyes at him, and in general behave in a manner designed to inflame Wanda the Wonderful with a terrible jealousy. Not to be outdone, Wanda turned a beaming face on the Marquis, and playfully proposed a toast to the Golden Rose. In a loud aside to Ellie she added it was a pity they were both dark-haired, for London gentlemen would look at nothing but blondes.
    Heated denials of this, and a toast in turn from Lord Claymore to the Wanderley Flowers confirmed Hibbard’s suspicion that he had been jilted for a title, and before long he and his party took themselves off. A strange listlessness fell upon Wanda when they were gone. She asked offhandedly of Missie what the Langdons had had to say.
    “They said they were surprised to know a marquis ate in the common room,” Missie replied.
    “How did they know who I am?” Clay asked.
    “Why, I told them, of course,” Missie replied, nonplussed at his stupidity.
    By the time the second party left the inn, it had begun to cloud up slightly, and they decided to return home immediately. Clay didn’t even remember to purchase a trinket for Wanda. “Lord, let us get home before it starts to pour,” Wanda whined. “That’s all it needs to make this day complete.”
    Such a leveler as this left Claymore in no doubt that she had enjoyed the outing as little as he had himself. Once home, no offer was extended to remain for dinner, nor would it have been accepted if it had. Claymore’s temper, never calm, was about at its breaking point. Definitely the excursion had been a deplorable idea. A delicate girl like Wanda required a completely different sort of background to show to advantage. The theatre, the opera, a ball—that is where she would shine. He would soon have an opportunity to judge if he were not right, for there was an assembly to be held that coming Saturday. Mrs. Wanderley told them about it, and determined as well that Rex should take Claymore to it. That gave