The Phantom Lover Read Free Page A

she’d meant what she’d said. “I should have expected this,” he remarked bitterly. “You are well known to be volatile. Mama has remarked on it frequently. You cried off from your promise to Overton after only two weeks, did you not? And when you jilted Lord Keith so soon afterwards, all of London gossiped about you. But, as I told Mama when I determined to offer for you, I scarcely consider myself in the same class as Overton—or Lord Keith, for that matter. A girl might be excused for dismissing them . But now it becomes clear that Mama was right.”
    Nell suppressed a smile. In Nigel’s view, any girl who could give up a chance to marry him must be sadly shatterbrained. Any misgivings she might have felt at crying off were dispelled by his smug self-consequence. She supposed that there was some justification for society’s view that, in capturing Sir Nigel Lewis, she had made a brilliant coup, but she was both repelled and amused to learn that Nigel himself was in whole-hearted agreement with them.
    Oh, well, she thought, she could not really blame him. She was an impoverished orphan with very little to recommend her on the Marriage Mart. Helen “Nell” Belden had lost both her parents by the time she was ten. She had been taken in by her godmother, Lady Sybil Thorne. Sybil’s busband, Lord Charles, had become her guardian. But while the Thorne family moved in the very highest circles of London society, everyone knew that Charles Thorne was only a second son to the wealthy Earl of Thornbury and had long ago dissipated his portion. He’d lived most of his life on the largesse of his father and his now-deceased elder brother, Edgar. Any man who chose Helen Belden for his bride could expect nothing in the way of settlements from her guardian.
    Fortunately for Nell, her lineage was impeccable, and she was endowed with considerable charm and attractiveness. Nell was not unaware that her laughing, green-flecked eyes, her chestnut curls, her impish face and the slender curves of her figure stood her in good stead. She had never lacked for suitors, even without a fortune to offer them. Of course, she knew that her behavior was not always proper. She had strong enthusiasms and was too often tempted to indulge them. Racing a phaeton was one of them, and the race with Tubby was not the only incident which had caused malicious gossip. Her taste in clothes, too (although she would not admit this to Nigel), tended to be somewhat impetuous. She enjoyed turning heads when she walked into a room and didn’t hesitate even to damp her dresses if that trick would insure that her figure would be seen to advantage. Lady Sybil had taught her that a dress was to be despised if it went unnoticed, and she had followed Sybil’s advice and chosen gowns that were remarkable either for their color, their flattering lines or their up-to-the-minute modishness.
    Her two previous betrothals were also to be blamed on enthusiasm. Both Neddy and Keith had seemed quite adorable on early acquaintance, and each in his own way had made his offer so charmingly that Nell had accepted without much serious thought. It was only after deeper acquaintance that she’d realized that Neddy often behaved like a child, indulging in the most exhausting temper tantrums whenever he imagined that Nell had smiled at another man. And Keith, she soon learned, would never offer a wife half the affection he lavished on the dozens of dogs who shared his home.
    Her betrothal to Nigel had been different. She had never felt any enthusiasm for him. It had been her guardians who had urged her to accept him. Perhaps she had been vain, but she had not dreamed that Nigel felt that he’d “condescended” when he’d offered for her. She suddenly realized that, even though she had hesitated for several days before accepting him, he had taken her eventual acceptance for granted. And now it was obvious that her