Free Lady Star by Claudy Conn Page A

company was not too much of an intrusion on your ride?”
    She laughed and threw at him, “At first I
thought it might be, but no, I enjoyed your company.” She hurried
forward, but just as she put distance between them she took a peek
over her shoulder and saw him still in place watching her
retreating form. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she went
on.
    Sir Edward Danton had not only taken a place
in her mind, he had somehow loomed above all others. His company
always sent tickling flutters of excitement through her. He was
like no other man of her acquaintance. Everything about him drew on
her inner soul and told her he was worth the effort. She wondered
fleetingly what unspeakable thing he had done. He obviously
regretted it, so she shoved it aside.
    What did it all mean? Could he be the one she
had been waiting for all her adult years? Her mind objected, but
her body and heart were one in accord on this. Was she simply
fooling herself because he was so dashing—so attractive? She sighed
and told herself that perhaps his latest experience with the woman
who had hurt him might have spoiled him for another. Had he really
suffered a genuine heartache? She found it ridiculously absurdly
that an awful snake of green had traveled through her veins and
shut it down. He didn’t look heartbroken. He didn’t act heartbroken
and she was fairly certain he was not.
    He was, however, quite a challenge. Is that
why she was interested? Because he was a challenge? That was a
question she should and must consider. What did it all matter? She
was fairly certain he was merely entertaining himself. He thought
her a brat, an imp, a child. She could see that he found her
attractive but that wasn’t meaningful. Men were forever casting out
lures and dallying with women they found pretty.
    What she wanted was more. What she wanted was
a love for all time. What she wanted—oh was he what she
wanted?

Chapter
Seven
     
    VERN STRETCHED AND moved slowly across his
room. He could not and would not allow his sister to miss this
ball. He had quite made up his mind.
    He stood, unsteadily and put his hand to the
glass of the lead paned window overlooking the green gently rolling
hills in the distance.
    His lawns were no longer manicured, his
gardens and yard were infested with weeds and he grimaced at the
sight. He saw the flower beds glaring up at him with their
unsightly borders. Once they had sported such beauty, now overgrown
and full with coarse vegetation.
    He was twenty-two and he told himself he
should be able to bring things around. Yes, but how? He was a grown
man. Still, he had not yet found a way, at least not a noncriminal
way, to set his home in order.
    What was wrong with him?
    His door opened and he turned to the sound of
a familiar and welcome voice.
    “Hallo, halfling,” Miles Denning said with a
wide grin.
    Vern stared at his lifelong friend and
grinned broadly. Miles was the best of the best, he thought. “Look
at you,” he said merrily, in spite of his weakened state. “Dressed
to the nines.” He tried to step toward him and wobbled.
    Miles was there in the flash of a moment and
had Vern’s weight firmly leaning against him, “Steady ‘ole
boy…steady.”
    Vern coughed and gave him a weak smile as his
friend led him to the bed and deposited him there, saying, “You can
cover yourself, I’m not your nursemaid.” His affectionate grin
mitigated the words.
    Vern smiled weakly and did just that. He
regarded his friend thoughtfully as his musings had suddenly came
together and he said while still trying to put his meanderings into
a coherent suggestion, “Well then my fine dandy, what brings you
here? And what the devil are you wearing?”
    Miles laughed, ran a hand over his
lightweight blue coat, “Too much do you think? It is the height of
fashion, you know.”
    “It might be, but not with all that wadding
in the shoulders. Though I understand your need, since you have
none to fall back on,” Vern teased