Free Evermore by C. J. Archer Page A

my
pending engagement to the Duke of Sandridge's son?"
    "Bertie?" George cried. He must have realized
how loud he'd said it because he muttered an apology.
"Congratulations, Miss Beaufort." Poor George, I'd never seen him
look so miserable. His face sagged as much as his shoulders.
    "It's not settled yet."
    "It soon will be." Lady Preston's frosty
glare met her daughter's. It was the sort of look that silently
demanded the recipient keep quiet. I'd been the object of many such
glares from Celia, but they rarely had the desired effect. I seem
unable to do as I'm told.
    "Does that mean you'll be a duchess?" I asked
eagerly. Imagine that—me friends with the future Duchess of
Sandridge!
    George narrowed his eyes at me and I wished I
could take it back. Of course being a duchess would not compensate
for marrying someone you did not love. I was glad I wasn't in
Adelaide's position. Children of nobility couldn't wed whomever
they chose. They had to marry other nobility, and failing that,
wealth. I, on the other hand, could wed the man I loved.
    Unless he was dead, of course.
    "Yes, but a betrothal between us is yet to be
finalized." Adelaide turned so that she was no longer facing her
mother. It was a direct slight and I felt uncomfortable. I had
never seen Adelaide and her mother quarrel before. "Until then,
there is still a chance of escape."
    "Adelaide," her mother scolded.
    "Father and the Duke of Sandridge have not
decided upon my worth," Adelaide went on. "I believe His Grace the
duke is holding out for another piece of Father's property to be
added to my dowry. It's a lucrative tract of land and of course
Father doesn't want to give it up without a fight. Not even for the
prospect of being attached to a dukedom."
    "That's enough," Lady Preston snapped.
    "Unfortunately, poor, dear Bertie is rather
sickly and there's always the chance he'll die before his father,
in which case I'll never be a duchess. What a shame that would be,
wouldn't it, Mother?"
    Lady Preston had gone quite rigid. I expected
her to berate her daughter, but she didn't. Indeed her lips were
clamped together tightly, emphasizing the tiny lines around her
mouth.
    I took George's arm and steered him toward
the door. "Thank you for the address, Lady Preston." I tugged
George. He didn't seem to have his wits with him, but he followed
me meekly enough, although he continued to look back at
Adelaide.
    We got as far as the exit. The dominating
figure of Lord Preston blocked the doorway. My entire body groaned
at the sight of him.
    "What's she doing here?" he bellowed over my
head.
    Lady Preston sailed up to us. Her anger
seemed to have dissolved and she was all solicitude as she smiled
at her husband. "She came for—"
    "I told you never to let her in. Did I not
make myself clear? She is a disruptive influence on you and
Adelaide."
    "She is not," Adelaide protested.
    There was a shocked silence, not only from
her parents, but from George and I as well. I'd never heard her
speak so disrespectfully to them. Indeed, she'd always seemed a
little afraid of her father. The pending nuptials must have
triggered the dormant rebel within.
    "Emily is kind and has our best interests at
heart," she added.
    "Quiet, girl, you don't know what you're
talking about."
    I felt George tense, but he
said nothing. I would have tried to leave, but Lord Preston and his
wife were in the way. Oh please, please,
move. I didn't want a confrontation. And
what if Jacob popped in? He didn't need anything else to worry
about.
    "No, Father," Adelaide
said, " you don't
know what you're talking about because you refuse to believe what
is as plain as that ugly nose on your face."
    Lord Preston bared his teeth like an animal.
"Go. To. Your. Room."
    "Gladly." She lifted her chin and walked up
to us. "See you at the ball," she said and kissed me on the cheek.
"It promises to be quite a lively event."
    That was an understatement.
    "There will be no ball if you continue to
behave in such a manner," her