Leslie Lafoy Read Free

a willingness to patiently accept the fact that one thing always led to another. Always. Nothing ever happened by pure chance.
    “Good evening, Lady Ryland,” he said, arriving at last. He gave Carrie a slight bow and a smile as he added, “It is a pleasure to see you here.”
    “And you, Your Grace,” Carrie politely replied. She went on talking, her hands fluttering gracefully as she went through the introductions His Grace had come over to get. Actually, Fiona amended as she watched him acknowledge Jane, the one introduction that he needed to have before he could move on with his plan for the evening.
    His gaze touched hers and then he looked away. But not before Fiona had seen the startled spark in the depth of his eyes. A spark of something akin to recognition.
    “Fiona,” Carrie said, lightly touching her shoulder.
    “Yes?” she asked, looking up at her sister. Carrie’s gaze darted to the duke in silent instruction. “Oh.” She turned her attention to the man who didn’t care one whit whether they were introduced or not and with a little nod said, “Hello.”
    He started and again there was the flicker of recognition in his gaze. “Hello.” He cleared his throat quickly and softly and found a pleasant enough smile. “Might you have a space free on your dance card, Lady Fiona?”
    “No,” she answered simply, knowing it was the answer he wanted to hear.
    “Ah,” he said on a sigh that was obviously far less disappointed than it was relieved. “I can only hope that my heart will eventually mend.”
    One. Two.
    “Lady Baltrip,” he said ever so predictably and cheerfully, “would you be willing to take pity on me?”
    “Of course, you poor man.”
    He presented his arm, Jane took it with a lilting laugh, and together they walked off toward the dance floor.
    “Fiona, dear…”
    She smiled at her sister. “He didn’t come over to ask me to dance, Carrie. He came over to secure an introduction so that he could initiate an interlude with Aunt Jane. I was simply an excuse, a device to allow him to engage Jane’s sympathy.”
    Carrie thought about that for a half a second or so before smiling and arching a brow. “As if an introduction and a play on sympathy were necessary. He could just as well have stood by the terrace door and whistled for her. I hope she has a care for his heart and doesn’t mangle it too badly.”
    “Not to worry, Carrie. His heart is well walled away. Where Aunt Jane is concerned, his intentions are just as intensely base and every bit as fleeting as hers. It’s a perfect matching for the evening.”
    “He isn’t going to batter Jane’s heart, is he?”
    Why everyone in the family thought she could see everything … “Aunt Jane has never once taken her heart along when she goes for a stroll in the garden. And you don’t have to have a gift of sight to know that she’s not taking it this time, either.”
    “True on both counts,” Carrie had to allow. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled broadly. “Simone and Tristan have finally arrived,” she announced, turning away from the dancers. “Shall we abandon Jane to her fate and go say hello?”
    Jane would prefer it, and it was unthinkable to ignore their sister and her husband. Fiona considered the couple making their way toward them. Well, there was yet another reason she was supposed to be here this evening. Good news was always better when shared with the people who loved you.
    “Is it just me,” Carrie murmured, “or do you think…?”
    Yes, Simone and Tristan were finally starting their family. They were both glowing with the joy of it. The pregnancy and birth would go well and easily for Simone. And it was about time for there to be another baby boy in the lineage.
    “Let’s try to act surprised when they tell us,” Carrie suggested.
    Fiona nodded and arched a brow as a vision of snow-dusted moors drifted across her awareness. No houses, no people. Just the gentle roll of ancient land. As she