Free Lord Darlington's Darling by Gayle Buck Page A

care. I am so very happy. I shall write the note for you to give him this very evening. It will be the easiest thing in the world, I am persuaded, because it will be the biggest squeeze at Lady Tarleton’s.”
    “But I won’t know who he is,” said Abby, at once attacked by panic. She felt like she was about to step off of a precipice, and she didn’t know how deep it was.
    “Never mind! I shall point him out to you before hand. You are sure to be introduced to him, if you haven’t already made his acquaintance, for Rich—he is received everywhere,” said Lady Bethany breezily.
    “Then, I haven’t the least notion why your brother should object to this gentleman’s gallantry,” said Abby with uncharacteristic tartness.
    “It has me in quite a puzzle, too,” agreed Lady Bethany.
    With mutual agreement, the two friends turned and retraced their steps to their individual carriages. Lady Bethany assured Abby that she would take care of that small matter as soon as she returned home. Abby smiled and agreed, still having mixed feelings over the whole matter.
    Upon her return to the town house, her worried thoughts were given a new direction. Mrs. Crocker asked her into the sitting room, and when Abby went in, she gestured grandly at the posies residing on the occasional table. “What think you of that, Abby! Two posies delivered for you this afternoon! One is from Lord Fielding, naturally. The other is from Lord Dar lington, of all people!”
    Abby turned to the occasional table to hide her warming face from her sister. “My word! Two posies!” she said inadequately, reaching for the cards. She picked up the one from Lord Darlington and swiftly read it. A smile lit her face. “How kind his lordship is!” she exclaimed.
    Mrs. Crocker had gone to the mirror to check her hair and she did not see which of the posies her sister had picked up. “Yes, I thought so, too. Lord Fielding is always such a gentleman,” she said. “You must wear one of the posies with your gown this evening, Abby.”
    “Of course,” murmured Abby as she hurriedly picked up Lord Fielding’s offering. She scanned the short, flowery note with scant interest. “I shall take them upstairs with me now, as I was just going up to take off my hat.”
    “We will be leaving for Lady Tarleton’s function a little later than I had originally planned,” said Mrs. Crocker, turning away from the mirror. “And we shan’t have August’s company as I had hoped, either, as he informed me that he is committed elsewhere.”
    Abby, at the door with the posies in her hands, looked back inquiringly. She had already known about her brother’s engagement, as he had confided to her at breakfast that he would rather jump into the Thames than attend a full-dress ball. “Oh, has some thing cropped up with Peter?”
    “He sent word from his club that he will be detained perhaps an hour,” said Mrs. Crocker with a smile and small shrug.
    “I don’t mind arriving a bit later,” said Abby, sud denly recalling Lady Bethany’s plan for her to spirit a note to the unknown admirer. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind remaining at home this evening if you and Peter would prefer it.”
    “You are such an accommodating dear,” said Mrs. Crocker fondly. She shook her head. “No, I shan’t deny you such a treat, Abby! We shall await Peter’s escort and then we shall go.”
    Abby nodded and left to go upstairs and begin her toilette for the evening. She glanced down at the pos ies in her hand, but her eyes did not see the one with Lord Fielding’s card attached to it. She hoped she would see Lord Darlington at Lady Tarleton’s func tion so that she could thank him for his thoughtful gesture.

Chapter Eight
     
    W hen Abby went downstairs, gowned and coifed, the posy from Lord Darlington was pinned to the lace slip over her satin gown. In company with her sister and brother-in-law, she made her way through the receiving line into the ballroom. She looked everywhere