The Second Lady Southvale Read Free

conscious of a frisson of pleasure as he took her hand again, drawing it over his arm.
    She heard whispering break out again behind them as they stepped out of the ballroom, but she didn’t glance back. The guests who were already on the terrace made little secret of observing the evening’s most fascinating twosome, and the color heightened on Rosalind’s cheeks, but Lord Southvale gave no sign of being aware of the stir they were causing.
    He led her to the stone balustrade at the edge of the terrace and then stood looking at the lights of Washington twinkling to the north across a moonlit expanse of alder-studded marshland. The music coming from the ballroom behind them competed with the throb of insects, and from time to time fireworks exploded in the sky above the capital as America celebrated its independence from British rule.
    A large formal rose garden stretched away from the foot of the terrace, filling the night with perfume. Lanterns illuminated the paths and lit up the magnificent blooms that were Rosalind’s mother’s pride and joy. At the far end, against a white picket fence and a windbreak of tall evergreens, stood a little summerhouse where it was good to sit at this time of the year. To the south, away from Washington, the silver ribbon of the Anacostia River swept toward its confluence with the Potomac, and in the distance all around, palely lit by the moon, was the hilly, wooded countryside where Rosalind liked to ride. George often accompanied her on her rides, and as she stood by Lord Southvale in the lantern light, she felt a pang of conscience. In all the time she’d known George, she’d never experienced anything that came even remotely close to the tumbling, bewildering emotions that had seized her during these past few minutes.
    Her gloved hands trembled a little as she rested them on the stone balustrade. She felt she had to say something. Anything. ‘It – it must be a little dull for you to be here instead of enjoying the London Season.’
    ‘Not really. I happen to find Washington very much to my liking.’
    ‘But surely it’s a little rustic here after the sophistication of London?’
    ‘Rustic?’ He smiled, glancing up at the mansion rising against the sky behind them. ‘I’d hardly call this rustic, Miss Carberry.’
    His smiles played havoc with her already unsettled composure , and she strove to appear quite calm and unconcerned as she continued the conversation. ‘Maybe this particular house is grand enough, sir, but Washington as a whole is somewhat unfinished, you have to admit. The houses are scattered, the public buildings incomplete, and the roads and sidewalks tend to peter out here and there. And listen to the insects. We’re in the middle of a virtual swamp.’
    ‘I cannot argue with what you say, but I can see what Washington will be like in the future, and I like what I see.’
    He gazed toward the city, and as he did so, his right hand moved slightly on the balustrade. A flash of gold on his finger caught her eye. Had he transferred his wedding ring from his other hand? No, it wasn’t a wedding ring, it was a signet ring. By the light of the lanterns she could make out the design that was cut into the ring; it was a griffin, the mythical beast that was the emblem of the de Grey family.
    He glanced at her again. ‘As to the second part of your question ….’
    ‘My question?’
    ‘Whether or not I miss the London Season. I have to confess that socializing hasn’t been very much to my taste this past year; indeed, this is the first time I’ve indulged in such diversions since my wife died.’
    She felt dreadful. ‘Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean to—’
    ‘I know you didn’t, Miss Carberry, and I promise that I haven’t taken offense.’ His eyes were very blue as he studied her. ‘Can you similarly promise me that you haven’t taken offense because of my intrusion here tonight?’
    ‘Yes, Lord Southvale, I can promise you that.’ It was true,