Lucy Muir Read Free Page B

the table beside her and sat up straight.
    “I am nine-and-twenty, Lord Stanton, far old enough to serve as a chaperone to an eighteen-year-old girl, whether I have been married or not. Thank you for your kind advice, but I feel I would not be doing justice to Melissa were I to marry her off to some elderly noble in Bath. I shall continue to London.”
    “Then I wish you every success in your endeavour,” Lord Stanton replied mildly.
    Anne relaxed her hostile posture, and he smiled at her again, pleased to see his smile returned. She had spirit as well as beauty. Better and better. A plan began to take shape in his mind, but it was too early to put it into operation. He rose and tugged a bellpull.
    “I know you would like to see how Miss Amberly fares and to have the opportunity to rest before dinner,” he said to her. “Gates will escort you to your rooms. Dinner has been set back to eight o’clock. Until then...” He bowed over Anne’s hand as she rose to leave the room.
    * * * *
    Henry Stanton watched Anne follow the footman from the room with a half smile on his lips. Yes, he was very glad he had chosen to remain behind at Longworth after his holiday guests had gone on to Headley Hall for more festivities. He poured himself another brandy and returned to his seat before the fire.
    At forty years of age, Lord Henry Stanton was one of the few members of his set who remained unmarried. Not that marriage slowed the others down in their pursuit of pleasure. But Harry had no desire to encumber himself with a wife, no matter how compliant she might be. Each Season he watched cynically to see which mamas would allow the draw of his title and money to overcome their repugnance of his reputation and throw their daughters in his way. He carefully gave them a wide berth and confined his pleasures to married women and women of the demimonde.
    He contemplated Miss Southwell with a stirring of desire. She was the kind of woman he found most appealing—attractive, intelligent and old enough to have formed opinions of her own. The fact that she had been brought up by a father and brother who were army officers would be to his advantage. They had evidently exposed Anne to more of life than was usual for a gently bred woman. Still, he would have to go carefully in his plans to seduce her. She was obviously untouched despite her upbringing. He wondered why she had never married. Probably she had lacked suitors of acceptable age and status in Medford. He briefly debated the ethics of what he planned to do, but again came to the decision that her age and station in life made her fair game. Or else he was making excuses so he could seduce the most desirable woman he had come across in years with a clear conscience, he recognized cynically. Well, no woman had ever lost through an association with him. He was unaccustomed to denying himself anything he wanted, but he also prided himself on his considerate treatment of his mistresses. It was fortunate that his sister had not come to Longworth for the holidays. Her presence would have made his plans impossible.
    He shifted in his chair at the thought of his sister, Lady Caroline Brookfield. Although she never presumed to lecture him, he knew she never gave up hope that he would settle down and abandon his rakehell ways. Perhaps someday, he mused, when he had three score years to his credit and wanted someone to care for him in his old age. But now there were still too many pleasures to be had, such as Anne Southwell.
    * * * *
    Gates showed Anne into a bedchamber on the next floor where she found a young girl unpacking her clothes. The girl stopped her work at Anne’s entrance and curtseyed.
    “I’m Mary, miss, and I’m to be your maid while you’re here, if you wish it.”
    “Thank you, Mary,” Anne replied, looking about the room with interest. The walls were covered in paper painted with delicate flowers and leaves in soft hues. A bed with peach-coloured tent-style hangings was