To Distraction Read Free Page A

retreat would make him appear ludicrously high in the instep, as if he thought himself above their company.
    “Besides,” he muttered to himself as, nonchalant smile in place, he stepped down to the lawn, “how hard can it be to identify one female and run her to earth?”
    Fatal words. By the time he’d done the rounds, been introduced and spoken politely with every female, both young and old, gracing the wide lawn and drifting beneath the trees, and discovered that Miss Phoebe Malleson was simply not there, his patience—always limited—had worn distinctly thin. Spying Audrey descending from the terrace, he excused himself from the matron who, along with her two daughters, had corraled him, and strolled to intercept his aunt.
    One look into his eyes and Audrey’s lips twitched.
    His own lips thinning, he hung on to his temper. “Your paragon is playing least in sight.”
    “Well of course she is, dear—I did warn you.” Audrey patted his arm, leaned closer, and murmured, “Now she’s twenty-five, she’s determined to go her own way and waste no more time even pretending an interest in gentlemen and marriage. So she’s here at the house, but elsewhere.”
    He frowned. “If she has no interest in gentlemen and marriage, why am I here?”
    “To teach her the error of her ways, of course.” Taking his arm, Audrey drew him around. “Have you met Edith Balmain, Phoebe’s aunt?”
    “Yes.” He glanced to where the sprightly, white-haired widow sat, bright blue eyes drinking everything in, interested and alert. At first glance she appeared the epitome of a little old lady, tiny, slightly stooped, with a soft lined face and a retiring manner, but once he’d met those eyes he’d reassigned her to quite a different category. She was an astute observer—one who saw, detected, and consequently knew everything, including all those private matters people thought they’d concealed.
    Even without the connection to his paragon he would have been drawn to, and interested in learning more of, Edith Balmain. However…“She didn’t know where her niece might be skulking, either.”
    “Well, Deverell dear, if there’s one gentleman in all this gathering with the right skills to hunt Phoebe down, it’s you.” Audrey caught his eye, smugly smiled. “And when you do I’m sure your persuasive talents will be up to the challenge of making her rethink her rejection of matrimony.”
    He let his frown deepen. “One point continues to elude me—why do you think she’s so unquestionably the right lady for me?”
    Audrey’s smile took on an edge—one of understanding and determination. “You’ll have your answer when you find her.”
    He wasn’t going to get any more from her; with a sigh he let her hear, he bowed over her hand and headed for the house.
     
    In one respect, Audrey was right—tracking down people was one of his fortes. By dint of asking the butler, Stripes, he learned first that Miss Malleson had not called for acarriage or a horse and was consequently somewhere in the house or within walking distance of it but was not in her chamber, and, secondly, where all the places a lady might seek solitude were located.
    He ranked those places in order of the most likely—the conservatory, the orangery, the shrubbery, the maze, the chapel, the billiard room, and the library—and set out on his search.
    When he opened the paneled door of the library, stepped silently inside, and instantly, instinctively, knew she was there, he realized that when dealing with Phoebe Malleson he was going to have to adjust his thinking.
    She wasn’t the average young lady.
    He couldn’t see her from where he stood, but instincts honed through years of constant danger informed him he wasn’t the sole human in the room. That, indeed, there was a female in the room.
    Closing the door silently, he walked forward, smoothly, barely disturbing the air. And saw her.
    He halted.
    Head and shoulders comfortably supported by a large