Free Lord Darlington's Darling by Gayle Buck Page B

for Lord Darlington, but did not immediately see him in all of the crowd of guests.
    Lord Fielding came up to greet the Crackers and Abby. His blue gaze went at once to the posy pinned to Abby’s dress, then lifted to her face. “Miss Fair childe, what means this?” he asked without preamble.
    Abby looked at him, surprised by his stiff tone. She was not used to his lordship treating her with anything less than the most extreme courtesy. “Why, I don’t know what you mean, my lord.”
    “You do not wear my roses,” said Lord Fielding in a lower voice.
    Abby flushed, but she did not falter in meeting his eyes. For once she found the courage to stand up against another person’s disapproval. After all, she had wanted to wear Lord Darlington’s white snow drops instead. “No, my lord, I do not,” she said steadily.
    Lord Fielding stared down at her. His expression was rocklike and his whole manner was offended. “I do not know how to take this rebuff, Miss Fairchilde. I thought we had a fair understanding. I assumed that—well, it must be obvious what I assumed!”
    “I—I am sorry, my lord. It was not my intention to hurt you,” said Abby, dismayed by the strength of his reaction. She did not like how it made her feel to be seated while he loomed over her with such a disap proving air.
    “Miss Fairchilde, I believe this is our dance.” drawled a familiar voice at her elbow.
    Abby turned in her chair and greeted Lord Darling ton’s appearance with instant relief. “Yes! Indeed, my lord, it is.” Rising at once, she went off with Lord Darlington with the feeling that she was escaping. She thought she could feel Lord Fielding’s gaze boring into the small of her back, and she shivered.
    As they formed up in the set, Lord Darlington said quietly, “Are you all right, Miss Fairchilde? Should you prefer to sit out the set?”
    “Oh, no, no! I am perfectly fine now, I assure you,” said Abby swiftly.
    Lord Darlington thoughtfully regarded her before glancing in the direction from which they had come. Lord Fielding was still standing where he had been left and there was a heavy frown on his face. Lord Darlington drew his own conclusions. He turned back to his partner, to say softly, “You are wearing my offering tonight.”
    “Yes,” said Abby simply, meeting his gaze with all the boldness her shy character would allow.
    “I am honored,” said Lord Darlington.
    The music carried them apart in the country-dance, but each time they came together, it was as though they were the only two on the floor. When the set was over, Lord Darlington offered his arm to her and Abby did not hesitate. They promenaded slowly about the dance floor and into the refreshment room, all the while conversing quietly. It was a good half hour be fore Lord Darlington returned Abby to her seat, but she felt as though it had been but a second or two.
    Lord Darlington bowed over her hand, promising to call on her on the morrow, and walked away.
    Abby was brought back down out of her happy haze by a sharp tug on her arm. She turned to discover her sister frowning at her. Abby blinked at the anger in her sister’s eyes. “Why, whatever is the matter, Melissa? What has overset you so?”
    “Can you ask? Lord Fielding has divulged the whole. Abby, how could you? You are practically af fianced to his lordship. What possible motive could you have for refusing to wear his posy tonight?” asked Mrs. Crocker in a lowered voice. She did not wait for an answer, but continued, “It took all my powers of persuasion to bring his lordship around to a better frame of mind. Even Peter has had to take a hand in the matter by taking Lord Fielding off to the card room to divert his thoughts with a hand or two of whist. He was very much offended, I can tell you!”
    “I wasn’t aware that I am constrained to accept only offerings from Lord Fielding,” said Abby defensively. “He is not my betrothed, after all.”
    Mrs. Crocker, who had started to say