Never Miss a Chance Read Free Page B

of
progress and nearly all means of enjoyment.  But I for one will not be denied. 
May I have this dance?”
    “It would be my pleasure,” said Lizzie, as she swept past
Riverton onto the dance floor.
    He was left with just the slightest scent of freesia and the
strongest desire to stuff Stalford into the nearest fountain.

CHAPTER TWO
     
     
     
     
     
     
    As Lizzie made her way through the movements of the
quadrille, she began to wonder if her brothers might actually be right in their
dire predictions after all.  She felt more eyes on her than usual, and was
increasingly certain the scrutiny wasn’t just aimed at her new gown.
    There were even gentlemen who appeared to be leering at
her.  And while it wasn’t exactly a novel experience, they usually saved their
more inappropriate looks for when there was no chance of being noticed by her
brothers.  Their behavior in a crowded ballroom bordered on rudeness.  Knowing
her brothers’ likely reaction, it was certainly reckless. 
    In contrast, the ladies barely made eye contact with her. 
    “Pray tell me,” said Stalford, as the movement drew them
close enough to speak, “how the daughter of a duke came to be involved in
politics.”
    Lizzie latched onto the distraction gladly.
    “Do you think my position makes me blind to the inequities
in life?”
    “I’m sure very little escapes your notice,” said Stalford,
as he gave her hand a squeeze.  “But why would you put your name on the
treatise when you risk losing so much?”
    Lizzie looked at the handsome aristocrat, so well and
expensively dressed.  “Because others have so much to gain, my lord.  And
hardly the means to effect change on their own.”
    “Well put, my dear.   It’s obvious you and I share a passion
for justice.”  Stalford smiled at her, then kept her hand in his just a moment
longer than warranted by the dance.  “I wonder in what other areas we’re in such
like accord.”
    *                    *                    *
    At the edge of the ballroom, Lynwood conferred with Arthur
and Hal.  It had been a quirk of their parents to name their children for four
kings and one queen of England.  William, known as Liam to a select few, was
named for the Conqueror.  At thirty-two, he was already one of the most
respected men in all of England.  He was dignified, with a commanding
presence.  But there was also an underlying sense of danger just below the
surface.  Prior to assuming the ducal role, he’d been sent down from University
twice for fighting.   Very few doubted he was still capable of handling himself
in a contest.
    The absent Edward, known as Ned, was the next eldest.  At
nine and twenty, he’d spent most of his adult life in the military before
selling out earlier in the year.  He was now at home in Marston Vale with his
wife Jane, but would undoubtedly return to London when word reached him of the
treatise.  His hair was chestnut brown and he had the same green eyes as
Lizzie.  Eyes they also shared with Ned’s recently discovered 6-year-old
daughter Vi.
    At seven and twenty, Arthur had yet to focus his life in one
direction.  Having ruled out the military and the clergy early on, he spent
most of his spare time gaming.  A man of few words, but fierce intellect, he
rarely played deep and seemed to win slightly more than he lost.  His hair was
the fairest of all of them, much closer to their sire’s light brown than to
their mother’s raven locks.  His build – like all of the Kellington brothers’ –
was lean muscle distributed across broad shoulders, a well-developed chest, narrow
hips and strong thighs.
    Standing next to him was Hal, the youngest brother at five
and twenty.  Named for the bravery of Henry V, but known to share Henry VIII’s love
of women and wine, Hal had wavy chestnut hair that hung to his shoulders.  He
was known as the most affable of the brothers, but his siblings knew him to be
deeply