The Magic of His Touch (May Day Mischief) Read Free Page B

are you doing?” said Aunt Edna from the landing
above. “Sir Alexis and Lord Elderwood are here. Their coach just drew up
outside.”
    Peony whirled. “I need to...change my hair ribbon,” she said
desperately.
    “Nonsense. Your hair is a tediously insipid color and
unmanageable to boot, and a different ribbon will do nothing to alter that.”
Aunt Edna gripped Peony by the arm and marched her down the stairs. If only
she’d said there was something in her shoe, poking into her foot. Her aunt
couldn’t very well have forced her to limp to the door. Peony never, ever
thought of clever rejoinders until it was too late.
    “Come along now and strive to make a tolerable impression,”
Aunt Edna said. “Albert! Where are you?”
    Papa bustled out of his study and joined them. With him on one
side and Aunt Edna on the other, Peony plodded like a prisoner being conducted
to her execution. She was doomed to make a bad impression and be blamed for it.
Very well, but she would at least summon the courage to meet the earl with
composure, just as Lucasta would do.
    Groggins, the butler, had the door wide open; footmen were
carrying trunks and valises. Papa hurried ahead, rubbing his hands. “Welcome,
welcome!”
    Two men turned at the sound of his voice. One was Lord
Elderwood, as cool and unnerving as ever. The other...
    Had seen her stark naked at dawn.
    * * *
    Alexis watched the blood drain from Miss Whistleby’s
face and wondered for a moment if she might faint, but she got herself under
control and came forward, pale as ice, curtsying first to Elderwood and then to
himself. She gave Lord Elderwood a wavering smile, but treated Alexis to a
defiant stare.
    He gave her his most appreciative grin in return. “A pleasure
to meet you, Miss Whistleby.” At some point in their conversation this morning,
he’d realized the girl was gently bred and wondered if they might meet again at
some dinner or evening party. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be the
daughter of his host.
    His grin didn’t have the expected effect; she looked tense and
rigid. Was that embarrassment, or did she imagine he would tattle to her father
about her tryst? Much as he disapproved of her behavior, it was no concern of
his if she chose to ruin herself—and with the sort of coward who would run off
when another man appeared. For all the fellow knew, Alexis might have been a
ravening lecher.
    Lucasta appeared through a door from the rear, complete with
ink-stained fingers and an abstracted expression. They’d been friends growing up
in the same village, and he couldn’t have found a better woman with whom to have
a false betrothal. She’d gone on a more or less permanent visit to her cousin,
Miss Whistleby, so he’d only had to dance attendance on her briefly during the
London Seasons. In less than a year, she would reach her twenty-fifth birthday,
at which time she would come into control of her inheritance and break off the
engagement.
    And then, alas, he would have to start evading his mother’s
matchmaking attempts again. His mother simply had no idea what would suit him.
Definitely not one of the fashionable ninnies she preferred, who seldom had two
thoughts to rub together. He wanted a woman with a mind of her own and the
courage of her convictions—who at the same time would cooperate with and depend
on a man. Most likely such a woman didn’t exist, in which case remaining single
suited him perfectly well.
    Lucasta’s sharp eyes took in Lord Elderwood with sardonic
amusement and swept him a mocking curtsy. She had a poor opinion of men in
general, but she greeted Alexis with her typical brisk cheerfulness. “How lovely
to see you. It’s been ages.”
    “How’s the opus going?” he asked. She really was writing a
massive tome and preferred scholarship to marriage. He wondered if she knew that
her supposedly innocent cousin had a lover. Should he mention it to her? He
didn’t rightly know. It would be damned awkward, but the