Free Sandra Madden by The Forbidden Bride Page A

together.
    Having little choice but to join his family, Edmund ambled in their direction. He wondered if Kate might be put off by the portrait artist's foppish manner of dress? Perchance he could find a better husband for Kate than the limner—someone without a speech impediment. Richard Digby had been the first eligible man to come to mind. With further thought, Edmund felt certain he could do better. Kate deserved better. Digby dressed and strutted like a peacock.
    The music chamber boasted a harp in the back corner and a virginal in the front corner. A lute, dulcimer, tabors, and a viol occupied places of prominence.
    Kate was enamored of the room at once, though she thought it unlikely, from the looks of them, that any of the musical instruments had ever been used.
    Several high-backed benches and low stools provided seating. A rich, multicolored Turkish carpet covered the polished oak floors, and thick, deep blue velvet draperies framed the lone, tall window standing partially opened.
    Still, the chamber felt close and Kate uncomfortably warm. She'd misplaced her best, and only, fan. 'Twas a disagreeable habit of hers, forever misplacing the very item she needed most.
    Digby flicked his parrot-green feather fan in rapid motions. The artist's finery would put a peacock to shame. Kate was hard-pressed where to look. His snug, paned trunk hose and overly decorous canions would not permit the eye to rest. His screeching green satin doublet, studded with gold points and pearls, caused Kate to blink in the habit of Lady Cordelia.
    And much to her surprise, Digby wore a codpiece, which was no longer fashionable. From its rather alarming size, Kate could only think a great deal of horsehair padded the piece. As a final dramatic touch, from his shoulders Digby had flung a collarless short coat of searing orange velvet around his high, stiff ruff.
    A gleaming assortment of accessories and jewels dangled from his gold-link girdle. Rings encircled every finger.
    The limner's mules were fashioned of the same green silk as his doublet but adorned with orange rosettes.
    "I thall give you the names of the finethst milliner and theamstreth in London," Digby said. "With the proper gownth you will dathle all of London, my dear."
    "You are too kind, Master Digby."
    Kate did not wish to offend Edmund's friend, but she did not care to meet either his milliner or his tailor. She had no wish to emulate an artist's affectation.
    "You thall have knights and nobleth falling at your feet, Mithtress Kate."
    "But I do not care for men falling at my feet."
    The artist's darting, otter eyes appeared startled. He leaned closer to Kate. "Do you not favor men?"
    His breath smelled of ale. While not ill featured, Kate could not find him attractive. The limner wore his wispy walnut-brown hair long but with a fringe cut along his high forehead. A trim moustache grew below his narrow, turned-up nose. His beard consisted of a tuft of hair on the point of his chin.
    "Indeed, I favor men," she assured him, marveling at the question.
    Digby appeared to relax. "Ath do I. Women ath well. But Lord Thtamford ith above all a most thtriking male."
    "Aye, he is exceedingly handsome," Kate agreed. "I have always thought thus."
    "Lovely eyes."
    "Aye." She sighed, studying Edmund's invincible presence. His sensuous mouth, his remarkable eyes.
    Unmindful of Kate's observation, Edmund stood across the room, arms folded, deep in conversation with Viscount Chumley. Did they discuss wood lark or warbler?
    "Lord Stamford's eyes remind me of glistening emeralds," she murmured at last.
    "Exthellent dithcription! You do potheth an artith eye."
    Digby's girlish enthusiasm made Kate feel as if she were sharing observations with one of her own gender. However odd, she was thankful not to be forced into conversation with Jane, who'd sent disapproving glances her way all evening.
    "And my lord cuts a dashing figure," Digby added, still waxing poetic over their host.
    "Aye."
    "His