Fran Baker Read Free Page B

gentlemen surrounding the gilt chair containing their object, Baldwin bowed to an older lady seated on the left, “Good evening, Mrs. Thacker.”
    She responded with a surprisingly youthful smile. “Good evening Mr. Baldwin. I’ve seen your mother here, but have not yet had a chance to speak with her. All is well with you?”
    “Yes, ma’am. May I present my cousin, Viscount Stratford, and a friend, Mr. Maret?” Daniel said stiffly as the pair moved forward. “They have been looking forward to meeting you. Gentlemen, Mrs. Thacker, a dear friend of my mother’s.”
    An amused, knowing glint came into her eye. She nodded at each in turn, saying, “How do you do? I should like to make you known to my daughter, Miss Amelia Thacker—”she indicated the giggling blonde on the beauty’s other side—“and my niece, Miss Helen Lawrence.”
    The dark goddess looked up, her lovely lips forming a silent circle as she saw the two handsome men—the one so very dark, the other so very fair—standing before her.
    “I am happy to meet you,” she murmured in a musical voice.
    “Not near so happy as I,” Stratford said with a perfect bow. “May I dare hope you will honor me with a dance?”
    She hesitated, glancing toward her aunt. When that lady tipped her head in a brief nod, Miss Lawrence rose gracefully and said in a soft voice, “Of course, my lord. It is I who am honored.”
    With practiced ease, Stratford extracted Miss Lawrence from her ring of admiring beaux and led her into the set then forming. They began the country dance in silence, but presently, as the steps brought them together, the viscount remarked, “I must remember to say my prayers this evening.”
    “My lord?” questioned Miss Lawrence, her puzzled smile displaying two delightful dimples at the corners of her pretty mouth.
    “I must certainly thank the Fates that led me here to meet you tonight,” he replied with his most charming smile. “I begin to appreciate young Montague’s feelings upon meeting Juliet.”
    Miss Helen blushed. She could not be unaware of her beauty, but she was not used to such outright flattery and had, indeed, always felt herself unworthy of such compliments as her loveliness brought forth. Watching the light mantle of color rise over her cheeks, Stratford coolly calculated his next remark.
    “I wonder that I have not seen you before, Miss Lawrence.”
    “I’ve not been in London long,” she responded, thankful to have the subject changed. “Indeed, this is my first ball, though I’ve been several times to the Assembly Rooms in Norwich.”
    “You are from Norfolk, then?”
    “Yes, my lord. Our home is in Willowley near Norwich.”
    “It is a great pity that I’ve never before had occasion to visit Willowley near Norwich,” he said softly.
    The speaking look beneath the heavy lids unnerved her and she colored prettily as she stammered a brief reply. As he continued to rake her over lazily with his dark eyes, she managed to observe, “Lady Carmichael must be vastly admired, for there are ever so many people here.”
    “It is my belief that is because they all knew what I did not . . . that you were to be here tonight.”
    She paused, then made a fresh attempt. “Your cousin, Mr. Baldwin, has been very kind. He escorted Amel—Miss Thacker—and me to Astley’s yesterday.”
    “I trust that in future, Miss Lawrence, you will have no need to look to my cousin for escort.”
    When the dance took her away from the viscount, Miss Helen felt a wave of relief. His fulsome compliments, delivered as they were with an easy charm that never dispelled the mockery from his black eyes, had quite overset her. She was a simple, direct girl, not used to the light manners of the ton . She had never before encountered the art of dalliance as practiced by society and was unsure how to respond to Stratford’s flirtatious comments.
    He resumed when they again drew close by stating, “The bucks in Willowley must be flatter than