The Outrageous Debutante Read Free

to town, of course
—
    Really! Nicholas’s lips curled in appreciation of his aunt’s forthright style, against which few members of the family were ever prepared to take a stand.
    and I am sure that you can find any number of excuses why your time at Burford is invaluable, but it would please me if you would present yourself in Berkeley Square for my own ball in three weeks. I will take the opportunity to introduce you to this year’s crop of débutantes. Some very pretty well-bred girls, who would be valuable additions to the Faringdon family
.
    There is no need to reply to this letter. Merely arrive!
    Your loving aunt
    Beatrice
    He cast the letter on to the desk to pour a glass of claret from the decanter, which the footman had brought in whilst he read.
    Merely arrive!
    Well, he had thought of going, had he not? But not if he was to be an object of Beatrice’s interest. Like a rare insect under a magnifying lens.
    Marriage. Of course she would interest herself. Her advice in the letter was nothing new. But Beatrice—damn her!—hadpricked at his sense of duty and he could not but acknowledge the weight of her argument. Even so, the prospect of dancing attendance on any number of young girls at Almack’s and other fashionable squeezes filled him with something akin to horror. Eyed, assessed, gossiped over by their avaricious mamas, his income, rank and future prospects a matter for public speculation. The daughters hanging on his every word, hoping for a declaration of undying love or at least the invitation to accept his hand in marriage and take up residence at Aymestry Manor. Or, even more enticingly, at Burford Hall in the absence of the Marquis. Thomas, with considerable aplomb and good humour, would have laughed it off and enjoyed the flirtation and the female fluttering for his attention. Hal would have simply made himself scarce. He, Nicholas, in the circumstances, could do neither. The bonds around him, the silken ties of family responsibility and duty, tightened around him even more. Unbreakable, even though constructed from love and care.
    Nicholas poured another glass of claret and frowned into it. Hal had the right of it when he took himself off to New York. But, of course, he had Nell with him now, the love of his life.
    He supposed he could simply stay buried here, as Aunt Beatrice had so tactfully phrased it. Offer for the hand of Amelia Hawkes, daughter of the hard-riding, hard-drinking baronet whose land marched with the Faringdon estate in the west. She would like nothing better than to be Lady Nicholas Faringdon, and many would see it as a good match. An excellent rider to hounds, well connected locally, Amelia would take over the running of Aymestry Manor with the same style as she had run her father’s establishment since her mother’s death. She had probably been waiting for an offer from him for the past half-dozen years, he decided, with more than a touch of guilt. Not that he had ever encouraged her to believe that marriage was in his mind—but neither had he discouraged her. With some discomfort he saw the situation from Miss Hawkes’s perspective. They met frequently in the hunting season. He stood up with her at local assemblies in Ludlow and at private parties. Her father, SirWilliam, certainly would have no objection to such a match. Why not offer for the girl and tell Beatrice that she need dabble no longer—it would be comfortable, easy, familiar?
    No, he could not do it. He put down the neglected wineglass with a sharp snap. Poor Amelia. He had not been fair with her. The plain truth was that he no longer wanted comfortable, easy and familiar. She was an attractive girl and would no doubt make some man an excellent wife. He liked her well enough. But love? Amelia never caused his blood to run hot or his eyes to spark with the possessive emotion that he had seen in Hal’s when he turned his gaze on Nell. Nor was the lady blessed with a well-informed mind. They could exchange