Shirley Kerr Read Free Page A

wasn’t an ounce of truth in her statement. “And walking with a perfect stranger was a better alternative?”
    “Mmm, perfect, yes,” she murmured, so quietly he barely heard her. She raised her gaze to his and met it fullon, looking as though many words wanted to tumble from her lips all at once. “Yes, it was,” she said at last, in a normal tone of voice.
    “I do hope it’s not a practice you indulge in often. Could have been quite dangerous for you, were I a different sort of person.”
    “Yes, of course you’re right, my lord. I believe I learned my lesson.” She cast her eyes down, but Alistair wasn’t taken in. There was still something else going on. Perhaps he could tease it out of her upon further acquaintance. He hid his smile at the prospect.
    Just then they danced past the potted palm in the far corner, where Alistair noticed his father standing with a woman in a flesh-colored gown that upon first glance made her look as though she were nude. Father had his arm around the woman’s waist, and she was so close she was practically inside his coat. He winked at Alistair just before he bent his head to kiss the woman’s throat.
    Alistair quickly turned so Miss Parnell would not see his father’s disgraceful behavior. He took a step back, making sure there was proper distance between himself and his partner. He had no intention of being stiff-rumped like his grandfather, but had sworn that he’d never embarrass the family like his father. Sometimes it seemed he’d spent every day of the last twenty years balancing the fulcrum between his grandfather’s nearly puritanical ways and his father’s descent into debauchery.
    Miss Parnell cleared her throat. “So, are you as delighted as I at the prospect of continued dry weather?”
    “Yes, I am enjoying the weather very much,” Alistair replied, disappointed at the return to mundane topics.Should he press her for more information, or let her grow more comfortable in his presence first?
    Miss Parnell continued in a similar vein, discussing how much rainfall was predicted for the month, how she hoped it would hold off for the outdoor amusements scheduled during the Little Season.
    She paused mid-sentence, her gaze focused on the balcony door. Alistair followed her gaze, just in time to see Nick and Blakeney slipping outside. Miss Parnell’s eyes narrowed, her lips pursed, but just for a fraction of a second. Then her bland smile was back in place.
    Hmm. Most women tended to either swoon in ecstasy at the sight of Nick or frown in disapproval.
    “Will you be attending Lady Bainbridge’s Venetian breakfast, my lord?” She fluttered her lashes at him again.
    “I have not made up my mind yet.”
    She took a shorter step than the dance called for just then, which brought her body into brief contact with his, her velvet skirts brushing against his breeches.
    It could have been an accident.
    “I do hope you’ll be in attendance,” she said, her breathy voice pitched low.
    Alistair kept his polite mask in place. Now this was behavior with which he was all too familiar. “I shall have to consult my appointment book.” It seemed only fair that if she wanted to pursue him as though her intent was to make a match, he could press for details and find out what she really was doing. After her innovative behavior this afternoon, he hoped she wasn’t doing something as ordinary as concealing an assignation.
    The dance took them past the row of wallflowers, where Grandfather sat deep in conversation with a matron and what appeared to be her daughter. Grandfather tried to catch Alistair’s eye, but he pretended not to see, and instead returned his gaze to Miss Parnell’s freckle.
    Her sudden intake of breath made him look up. He caught her staring at a woman in red, the same one they’d danced past earlier, slipping up the stairs, arm in arm with a male companion.
    When he glanced back, Miss Parnell’s smile was dazzling. The music ended, and he escorted her