Lord Darlington's Darling Read Free Page A

in.” Lord Darlington watched as his sister closed the door and walked across the study toward him, observing with fresh eyes what a lovely girl she was. Lady Bethany Hart was nearly as tall as he was himself, which by no means made a bean pole of her, since his own inches were scarcely above average, and she moved with an innate grace that was as apparent on the dance floor as it was in the way she gestured with her hands when she was most ani mated. She had the same dark gold hair that he did, but while Lord Darlington ruthlessly suppressed the natural curl in his hair, hers was allowed to spring into a most becoming halo of curls. Her skin was translu cent with a touch of rose in her cheeks and lips. Lady Bethany was a beauty, there was no doubt, he thought.
    “Why do you stare at me so, Sylvan?” asked Lady Bethany as she came to stand in front of the desk. She clasped her slender hands in front of her in a relaxed fashion. If she was ill at ease, there was no sign of it.
    “I was just thinking what a beauty you are, Bethany .”
    A blush rose in her flawless, pale complexion and she regarded him with surprise. “What a very nice thing to say!” Her expression gathered a hint of suspi cion. “I am not used to such compliments.”
    “At least from me?” asked Lord Darlington dryly, his smile a little twisted. He rose from his chair and walked around the side of the desk, sliding onto the corner of it so that he sat facing her with one booted toe swinging.
    “I—I don’t know what you mean,” said Lady Bethany with an air of bewilderment.
    Lord Darlington laughed. “I’m a poor brother, indeed, when a simple compliment from me throws you into confusion.”
    “Oh, no, no! You are the best of brothers. You have always been such a support to Mama and have taken the greatest care of all of us,” said Lady Bethany hurriedly.
    “I’m glad to hear you say so, for I intend to con tinue doing it,” said Lord Darlington. He saw the question in his sister’s eyes, but turned away from her when he heard the door open. “Here is tea. Will you pour for us, Lady Bethany?”
    “Of course,” said Lady Bethany, a puzzled frown creasing her delicate brows.
    The footman set the tea tray on the table between the wing chairs and quietly left the room. Lord Dar lington led his sister in formal style, placing her hand on his elbow and walking with her over to the wing chairs, where he seated her before taking the chair opposite.
    Lady Bethany stared across at him. “Now I know some thing is untoward, Sylvan. You have never treated me like a real lady before.”
    “Perhaps I haven’t seen you as being grown-up before,” said Lord Darlington deliberately.
    Lady Bethany blushed again. She served the tea and offered some of the biscuits to her brother. When he refused them, she made her choice and took a nibble of the sweet. She looked thoughtfully at her brother, and then set down her cup and the biscuit. “I can’t bear the suspense, Sylvan. Pray, pray tell me why you have invited me to share tea and have been so kind and—and—“
    “Generally behaved more civilly than I usually do?” suggested Lord Darlington.
    “I wasn’t going to say that,” said Lady Bethany with dig nity. A mischievous gleam shot into her eyes. “Though I must admit, the thought did cross my mind.”
    “You are a baggage, Bethany,” said Lord Darling ton without heat. His sister took the less than complimentary descrip tion in stride, giving a gurgling laugh. Lord Darlington sighed. Pleasantries now aside, it was time to revert to his ogre persona.
    “I had a visit from Mama ear lier,” he said casually, setting aside his cup and dab bing at his mouth with a linen napkin.
    Lady Bethany nodded, sipping at her tea again. It was well-known that the dowager often looked in on her eldest son. “Mama has seemed rather pensive today. I hope you were able to raise her spirits.”
    “I think it fair to say that when she left me, she was