All the Pleasures of the Season Read Online Free PDF Page A

wicked—and followed the Westlakes out to the coach.
    She stared out at the lights of the city as they drove the short distance to Lady Endersly’s home. The lady was just out of mourning, able to hold parties again and make use of the fortune her elderly husband had left her. Anyone in Town for the Little Season would be at Anthea Endersly’s tonight. There was speculation that she meant to remarry, or take a lover.
    Miranda didn’t care. She planned to spend the evening charming her fiancé, making him smile, dazzling him with her wit and beauty. She would make him feel like there was no one else in the world for her but him, no one else on the dance floor save the two of them.
    The entire ton looked upon her engagement to Kelton as a perfect match.
    Miranda meant to do everything in her power tonight to make that true.
    â€œMay I have a few moments to speak to Lord Kelton— Anthony —tonight after the ball?” she asked. “Perhaps he could escort me home. I wish to tell him about the weavers. He’ll want to start making preparations immediately, I’m certain.”
    Marianne smiled. “Is that all? I assumed you wished for privacy to let him steal a kiss, if he hasn’t already.”
    Miranda felt her cheeks warm, felt the butterflies drag their heavy wings across her nerves again. He had given her a chaste peck on the cheek to seal their betrothal, but nothing more. She had felt no particular spark of love or passion at the touch. She was certain he would want to kiss her fully, properly, the way a man kissed his wife—his lover—tonight. Her toes curled in her shoes, anticipating it, imagining it.
    â€œIs that wise?” Adam asked. “This is the sort of conversation a gentleman has with his man of affairs. One should not mix business with kisses. I must warn you, Miranda, as good as the idea seems, Kelton may have other plans for his lands.”
    â€œWhat’s to object to? It is a brilliant idea! As for kisses, they will be man and wife in a month,” Marianne argued. “He can see his man tomorrow, make all the necessary formal arrangements then—”
    â€œIf he likes the idea,” Adam said. “He may not.”
    â€œOf course he will! It shows she has brains as well as beauty, a kind heart, and a head for improvements!” Marianne protested. “She must start now, as she means to continue, set the bar for her life as Countess of Kelton. What wouldn’t be to his liking about any of that?”
    Adam didn’t reply, and Miranda felt her heart climb into her throat.
    â€œDo you like the idea, Adam?” she asked.
    â€œI do indeed,” he said, his tone reassuring. “But I am not Kelton.”
    â€œWe shall allow him to take you home in his coach, and we will be but a quarter hour behind you,” Marianne said. “Further talk—or kisses—can resume tomorrow.”
    Miranda put a hand to the hectic pulse at her throat, throbbing beneath the collar of sapphires. They pulled up to Lady Endersly’s home, and Lord Kelton was waiting to escort her inside. He bowed stiffly, and she made her curtsey. He took her arm silently, his eyes roving over her only to stop at the sapphires. She felt a frisson of annoyance. Her jewels raised more lust in his eyes than she did. He did not compliment her, or speak other than to offer Adam and Marianne a terse “good evening.”
    Miranda found that her tongue had tied itself in a knot. She laid her hand on the fine black wool of his evening coat and concentrated on smiling as her future husband led her inside.
    L ady Anthea Endersly was famous for two things. She had been married to Lord Endersly for only a fortnight before he had died of heart failure in her bed. That was hardly surprising, given the second reason for her fame, which was her magnificent, eye-popping figure. The lovely widow stood waiting to greet her guests as they entered. Miranda