In My Wildest Dreams Read Free Page B

vexing me.”
    â€œAll right.” Throckmorton smacked him back hard enough to remind him who was the taller and stronger and had once, in their boyhood, force-fed him most of a bar of greasy gray soap while sitting on his chest. “I will.”
    Despite their differences, the brothers understood each other in a way no one else could. They grinned at each other, and Throckmorton laid his hand on Ellery’s shoulder. “Come on, little brother. Let’s go find your exquisite creature.”

2
    T hrockmorton watched as Ellery craned his head, looking through and over the top of the swirling crowd, trying to find his beauteous maiden.
    The music wafted in from the terrace on harmonious waves, the rising sounds of conversation drifting with it. The deep rumble of men’s voices, made jovial with conviviality, provided a balance for the feminine cries of delight which punctuated the air as ladies found their acquaintances and renewed friendships.
    Blythe Hall was made for parties. The ground floor consisted of studies and music rooms, ball rooms and the lush glassed-in conservatory. Thirty-three bedrooms and twenty lavatories lined the corridors upstairs. The large attics sheltered visiting servants, and the bottom floor housed a wine cellar and the largest kitchen in Suffolk. All this, in a limestone shell attractively built by two hundred years of wealthy owners, and set in a jewel of a parktended by the best-paid, most important landscaper north of London.
    Once Throckmorton got the matter of the exquisite creature out of the way, he looked forward to the evening. Nothing matched the pleasures of making new contacts for whom he might someday do a favor or wrangle a business deal. English society was changing; no one knew it better than he, and no one used those changes as successfully. He asked, “Where is this ravishing lady?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Ellery craned his neck. “I don’t think she’s arrived yet.”
    â€œOr she’s outside on the terrace.”
    A man’s authoritative voice announced, “There they are!”
    Heads turned at the exclamation.
    â€œOur host and the lucky man who won our sweet Hyacinth’s heart.” Lord Longshaw made his way through the crowd.
    The crowd who moved hastily out of his way.
    A thin, esthetic man, Lord Longshaw looked like a starving Cambridge professor and suffered the well-deserved reputation of a rabid wolf. Regardless of his aristocratic heritage, he had pursued business relationships and made fortunes in the name of power—power he wielded ruthlessly. Only with his wife and daughter did he soften, and when Hyacinth had expressed a wish to have Ellery for her bridegroom, Lord Longshaw had come to Throckmorton and struck a deal.
    A deal, Throckmorton knew, which Ellery had better fulfill, or all the Throckmortons would be playing cricket in hell. Stepping smoothly in front of his distracted brother, Throckmorton said, “Lord Longshaw,we were just drinking a brotherly toast to your daughter’s health and happiness.”
    â€œCapital. Capital!” Lord Longshaw rubbed his gloved hands together in simulated glee, but his gaze darted between the brothers. “Looking forward to your wedding night, young Ellery?”
    Ellery chuckled uneasily. “Lady Hyacinth’s father would be the last man I would admit that to, my lord.”
    â€œQuite right.” Lord Longshaw grinned to display his gleaming, twisted teeth set beneath a dark, shaggy mustache. “Good sense, young Ellery. Glad to see you’ve got some.” Turning to Throckmorton, he gestured through the windows to the terrace where the servants could be seen lighting torches. “Nice atmosphere. Informal.”
    Sensing criticism, Throckmorton assured him, “There will be balls. This betrothal will be the most celebrated of the year.” As would be the wedding, even if he had to deliver the groom tied into a