The Marrying Season Read Free

wounded Alec deeply.”
    “Yet Alec has forgiven him.” Myles nodded toward the two men, deep in conversation.
    “Yes. Well . . . Alec has a warmer heart than I.” Genevieve smiled ruefully. “Mayhap he has more of our mother in him. It is enough for him that Gabriel apologized for his accusations.”
    “Gabriel was in a good deal of pain himself at the time,” Myles reminded her. “He feared his friendship for Alec had led him to push his sister into the engagement.”
    “Gabriel’s sister was as foolish as she was selfish, and the fact that she died as a result does not change her into a martyr. For Alec’s sake I will try not to dislike Gabriel. But I shall never forgive Jocelyn.” Genevieve’s eyes flashed, her jaw setting.
    “What a lioness you are! I can only pray that I will never be the object of your enmity.”
    “Don’t be absurd. You would never turn your back on Alec. No one can deny your loyalty.”
    “Despite my many other shortcomings.” Myles grinned. The music struck up behind them, and he held out his hand. “Enough talk of feuds past. Come, Genny, let us dance.”
    Genevieve smiled and went into his arms.
    When Myles returned Genevieve to her grandmother’s side, Lady Rawdon had been joined by Alec and Damaris, as well as Lord and Lady Morecombe. Morecombe bowed politely to Genevieve, though he shot her an ironic glance that said he knew full well her true feelings about him. Genevieve returned his greeting without the iciness she would normally have employed. After all, she had told Myles she would try to like him, and since his wife was Damaris’s best friend, the Morecombes would clearly often be around. She smiled at Gabriel’s wife with more warmth. Genevieve had been around Thea several times the past few days as the wedding preparations demanded, and somewhat to her surprise, she found herself liking the woman.
    Alec was smiling, as he had been all day, and his blue eyes, even lighter than Genevieve’s, were bright with happiness. Impulsively, he reached out and pulled his sister into a hug, the affectionate gesture surprising them both.
    “I am very happy for you,” Genevieve told him quietly.
    “Thank you.” Alec released Genevieve, grinning. “No doubt ’tis a great relief for everyone, given the state of my company the last few weeks.”
    “You were a bit of a bear,” Genevieve agreed drily. With Damaris here in Chesley the past month preparing for the wedding, Alec had roamed the halls of Castle Cleyre like a ghost—albeit a testy and combative specter.
    “He is always a bit of a bear,” Damaris put in, smiling up at Alec in such a way that it turned her words into an endearment.
    “I suppose I was a trifle irritable,” Alec allowed, earning a derisive laugh from the others.
    As the group chatted, laughing, Genevieve saw Thea draw Sir Myles aside. Thea spoke a few words to him, nodding toward the other side of the room. Genevieve looked in the direction she indicated and saw a young woman sitting stiffly beside an older lady, watching the dancers. Myles nodded, smiling down at Thea, and excused himself. Genevieve watched as he strolled across the room and bowed to the young lady, then led her out onto the floor.
    “That was kind of you,” Genevieve commented as Thea moved over to stand beside her.
    “Oh. ’Twas little enough. I can always rely on Myles’s good nature.” Thea absently reached up to stuff a cinnamon-colored curl back into place. Genevieve had yet to see Lady Morecombe when at least one or two of her wildly springing tresses weren’t trying to escape their moorings. “I intend to steal you away as well.”
    “Me?” Genevieve asked, surprised.
    “Yes. We must whisk Damaris from Alec’s side—no easy task, as you can see—and help her change into her traveling dress.”
    “Oh,” Genevieve said blankly.
    “That is what the friends of the bride do, isn’t it?”
    “Oh. Well, yes, I—I suppose so. I’ve never—I haven’t