Free Maggie MacKeever by Lord Fairchild's Daughter

whispered.
    “Only by reputation.” Loveday’s tone was grim. Jasper had spoken quite frankly of the lady; if matters still stood as they had at that last meeting, Lady Laurent was Jasper’s latest flirt. Loveday found the woman much as Jasper had described her: a black-haired beauty, conveniently widowed, whose fast ways enchanted the gentlemen and scandalized their ladies.
    “She’s been throwing out lures to Averil,” Dillian murmured. “He says she amuses him.” Loveday reflected that Jasper had said much the same thing.
    “Loveday Fairchild,” Lady Laurent said, with a charming smile and a frankly appraising look. “Though we have not met before, I have heard much of you.” Loveday murmured an appropriate response and wondered if Jasper had spoken of her. If so, this Banbury tale of a betrothal must be exposed as such. Loveday knew all too well that he regarded her as a wayward younger sister.
    “You will be pleased to learn that a friend of yours will soon be in the neighborhood,” Lady Laurent remarked complacently.
    Loveday’s stomach churned. “Oh?”
    “Yes. You must know that I am giving a ball—you and your brother will be able to attend, I hope.” She favored Jem with a provocative glance, and Loveday felt Dillian stiffen. Charmain did not miss the girl’s reaction, and smiled. “Dillian, too, if the duchess will permit it.” Her voice conveyed her doubt, and Loveday touched Dillian’s arm.
    “I’m afraid, ma’am, that I must convey Loveday’s regrets as well as my own,” Jem said quickly. “Circumstances make it impossible for either of us to attend.”
    “Nonsense!” interrupted Isolda, suddenly entering the lists. “We shall all attend.” She smiled serenely at Jem. “And Dillian shall have a new gown for the occasion.”
    “Famous! I’ve made sure Loveday will not wish to miss it, for Jasper Assheton has promised himself to me for the occasion.” Loveday flushed and Lady Laurent looked at her inquisitively. “Surely his presence cannot be frowned on! Jasper is not quite the thing, but a diverting rogue, all the same. My dear, am I in error? I had thought him to be a particular friend of yours.”
    “A particular friend, indeed, Charmain,” Isolda remarked dryly. “They are betrothed.”
    The reactions to this bit of information were varied. Tibby felt great relief; George, totally oblivious to his betrothed state, saw that he would have to make a push to show Loveday that his worth far exceeded that of Sir Jasper Assheton. Dorcas was shocked, for the rakish Sir Jasper was quite a matrimonial catch. Loveday, who wanted to sink through the floor, became aware for the first time of the elusive resemblance between Isolda and Hilary: both wore expressions of dispassionate speculation, as if lesser mortals existed solely to further the ends of the mighty Veres. She wondered what her part in their schemes might be. Isolda wished the ancient mystery solved and her grandson safely wed, but what of Hilary? That his interest equaled Isolda’s, Loveday had no doubt, but she could not imagine what motivated such concern.
    Lady Laurent made an unsuccessful attempt to conquer her rage, and skillfully drew Loveday aside. “I was not aware Jasper was dangling after a rich heiress,” Charmain murmured thoughtfully. “I knew he was quite taken with you, my dear, but not that his affections had become fixed to the point of making you an offer. It seems extremely irregular, especially when I consider that he has been dancing attendance on me. I declare, I am all out of patience with the man!”
    Loveday fervently wished herself elsewhere. “Pray do not excite yourself, ma’am. The fault must lie with Jasper. Perhaps he failed to make his intentions clear.”
    Charmain’s eyes flashed, but the smile never left her face. “I did not know that Assheton had taken a turn for the infantry,” she retorted. “I do not scruple to tell you that I consider this a shocking business. You will