Kathryn Caskie Read Free Page B

senses to the very roots of her hair.
    “Eliza?” A light hand touched her elbow, causing her to start.
    She turned her head and found Grace at her side. The thick scent of lavender assailed her senses, and Eliza realized her aunts had also returned and now stood at her right.
    “We lost you in the crowd at the door. Are you well, gel?” Aunt Letitia asked.
    Aunt Viola’s bony elbow nudged her sister’s plump side, drawing Letitia’s attention to the handsome gentleman.
    “Oh, my,” chuckled Aunt Letitia. “I’d say so.”
    Heat rushed into Eliza’s cheeks, but somehow, through her embarrassment, she found her voice. “I am fine.”
    The gentleman smiled. “Glad to hear it.”
    Eliza’s heart throbbed in her ears. “I…” Dash it all.
Compose yourself, Eliza.
Suddenly, her hand seemed to lift of its own accord and, with her aunt’s handkerchief, she polished the gentleman’s waistcoat button.
Say something.
“I do apologize. I hope I haven’t tarnished your button.”
    Oh, that was witty.
    He reached out and stilled her hand, sending a wild jolt racing up her arm.
    ” ‘Tis just a wee scrap of metal, miss.”
    An uncharacteristic flutter of nervousness took hold of Eliza. She lowered the handkerchief and looked up at him through her lashes, offering a shy smile.
    “Please excuse my niece, kind sir.” Aunt Letitia leaned close to the gentleman, dropping her voice to a confidential tone. “You see, she has only just been presented and I fear she is still somewhat shaken by the experience.”
    The gentleman arched a brow. “Aye, I seem to recall her rather
memorable
entrée. Miss Elizabeth Merriweather, I believe.”
    Eliza’s cheeks flamed hotter still. Without knowing what else to do, she dipped into a deep curtsey.
Egads,
she was acting like … well, like one of those plumed jingle-brains milling around the palace! What was wrong with her?
    “Please forgive my impertinence,” the gentleman said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Magnus MacKinnon.” Then he winced and struggled to correct himself in the next breath. “Or rather … Lord Somerton.” He bowed low before them.
    “Of course you are. The
fifth
Earl of Somerton, to be exact,” Aunt Viola chimed in.
    Aunt Letitia sidled closer. “What Sister meant to say, Lord Somerton, is that we were briefly introduced at Harper musicale last week.”
    The earl smiled. “I am honored ye remembered me.”
    Aunt Letitia snapped open her fan and swished it through the air. “How could we ever fail to remember
you,
my lord.” She glanced around him with a hawkish eye and, likely seeing no female relation nearby, promptly introduced Eliza and Grace.
    Eliza winced inwardly. A titled nobleman. He might as well have dangled a sparkling betrothal ring before her matchmaking aunts. Her only hope now was that he was already attached to another, else there would be no restraining Letitia and Viola.
    The thought had just broached Eliza’s mind when Grace shoved a flaxen curl behind her ear and charged forward. “My lord, is your wife also at court this day?”
    The earl lifted his brows at Grace’s none too subtle inquiry. “I am
not
married.”
    “Then you are here with your betrothed?” Eliza blurted before she could stop herself.
    One corner of Lord Somerton’s mouth lifted in amusement. “I am quite unattached, if that is what ye are seeking to ascertain, Miss Merriweather.”
    Humiliated at her gaff, Eliza averted her gaze.
    Wasting not a moment, Grace lifted her hem from the floor and inserted herself between them. “Unfortunately, your marital status matters not a bit to my sister. For you see, Eliza has no interest in marriage,” her sister confided. “I, on the other hand …”
    At her sister’s brazen remark, Eliza choked. Her gaze sought out the palace doors, and if Aunt Letitia had not snared her arm at the very instant, she would have bolted for the carriage.
    Eliza unobtrusively wrenched her arm from Aunt Letitia’s grip,