Birds of a Feather Read Free

her spectacles up her nose, she gasped.
    Predator had become prey. The cat was gone, but two boys had cornered the dog and were now tormenting it.
    “Stop that!” she ordered, fury blinding her as she raced to the rescue. Helping others had been drummed into her since birth.
    Only after a shouted warning penetrated her anger did she realize that a carriage was rapidly bearing down on her.
    * * * *
    “Admit it, Randolph.” Lord Sedgewick Wylie grinned at the Earl of Symington, his closest friend. “You not only survived a month in town, you actually enjoyed it.”
    Randolph laughed. “Thanks to Elizabeth. Her pleasure casts Society in a different light, and our betrothal removed me from the sights of the matchmakers.”
    “Deflecting their attention to the rest of us,” Sedge moaned in theatrical agony before turning his quizzing glass toward Randolph’s wife of four hours. “Congratulations, my dear.”
    “Will you put that down,” Elizabeth begged, flapping her hand at his glass. “You know how I hate being quizzed.”
    “Very well, but only for you.” He made a dramatic production of dropping the glass. “Now may I congratulate you?”
    “Thank you, dear Sedge. Your welcome has made the past two months bearable.”
    “And your presence has made the Season memorable. London won’t be the same without your company.”
    “I never expected such fustian from you.” She shook her head mockingly. “With all of Society prostrate at your feet, will you even notice my absence?”
    “How could I not? Impressing you is impossible, for you delight in pricking my pretensions.”
    “An admirable sport,” said Randolph with a chuckle.
    Elizabeth turned to her husband. “He only welcomed my company because planning our wedding kept his mother occupied.” She had spent recent months with Sedge’s family, being estranged from her own.
    “Alas! My secret is revealed.”
    “Doing it too brown, Sedge,” admonished Randolph.
    His laugh hid an instinctive grimace. “Not at all. Mother is sure to concentrate on me now that you are wed.”
    Elizabeth sobered. “Too true. She has regaled me with complaints about your intransigence, and she vows to succeed this Season. So be warned. She may resort to dishonor. Her determination troubles me, for you know how I abhor force.”
    “As do I.”
    “Is she really that bad?” asked Randolph.
    “Worse.” He sighed, wishing their banter had not turned serious. “I appreciate your concern, Elizabeth, but Mother’s insistence is hardly new. She was obsessed with the succession even before Father’s latest spell. My one hope is that she will concentrate on Reggie.” Reggie was his older brother and heir to the marquessate.
    “I doubt she means to ignore either of you,” said Elizabeth.
    “And she has enough candidates to keep you both busy,” added Randolph. “But count your blessings. Her antics may occasionally make Bedlam seem inviting, but at least she cares for you.”
    The reminder dampened everyone’s spirits.
    Why had Elizabeth raised the subject of families at her wedding breakfast? It was a depressing topic all around. Poor health had kept Randolph’s family in the country, though they had insisted that he follow tradition by marrying in London. Elizabeth’s father hated her, and her mother wasn’t much better. They had ignored her nuptials, despite Elizabeth’s hope that the occasion might lead to an eventual rapprochement. Her sister had also stayed away, which cut far more deeply. Cecilia had wed Sir Lewis two months ago, but they had promised to be here.
    “Pardon, my lord. A letter forwarded from Glendale House.” The butler’s silver tray held a missive directed to Elizabeth.
    Sedge exchanged a puzzled glance with Randolph. Her luggage had been transferred that morning, but late-arriving mail did not warrant interrupting a celebration.
    “It’s from Cecilia.” Elizabeth scanned the contents and gasped. “He’s—” She swayed as all color