Alyssa Everett Read Online Free PDF

returned and gave him her celebrated angelic smile, he’d gone on teasing me about my red hair, and had even sat out a dance with me at Almack’s.
    It had all come to a head three weeks ago, when Helen stayed home from the Stewarts’ picnic with an indisposition. Cliburne had remained at my side for nearly the whole of the outing. When I’d wandered away from the main party to sit in the tree swing beside the ornamental lake, he’d followed. Standing in the shade of the willow and squinting out over the water, he’d said hesitantly, “Lady Barbara, I know this must seem very sudden, but I’ve never felt this way about any girl before, and I was wondering—” here he’d turned his great spaniel-eyes on me, smiling, “—how would you feel if I were to put our relationship on a different footing? Something closer and more permanent, I mean. Would that be unwelcome to you?”
    My heart had begun to pound. Though we’d spent a good deal of time together, he’d never so much as held my hand before. And he was so handsome, and so sweet-tempered, and he was the Earl of Daventry’s heir. I’d wanted to jump off the swing and do an ecstatic jig.
    Since Cliburne occasionally seemed taken aback by my frank manners, however, I’d simply looked down at my lap demurely and murmured, “I believe I would like that very much, Lord Cliburne.”
    His smile had widened to carve dimples in his cheeks. “That’s just what I was hoping you’d say...Barbara.” As I’d blushed at his unadorned use of my Christian name, he’d given my swing a playful push. “In that case, I intend to speak to your father tomorrow afternoon.”
    And then he had spoken to Papa—but about proposing to Helen, not to me. Cliburne had stayed for dinner that night, and when Papa stood and proposed a toast to the happy couple , Lord Cliburne and our little Helen , it had been like a kick in the stomach. So the new footing Cliburne hinted at—the closer, more permanent relationship—had meant as sister and brother-in-law? Having spent the day on tenterhooks, I’d had to summon every ounce of pride I possessed to smile and offer him my congratulations. Inside, I’d wanted to die of humiliation. Why had I ever supposed he’d be interested in me? Stupid, stupid, stupid!
    But worse than having been a fool was the burning shame of having everyone know I’d been one. Apparently our tête-à-tête at the picnic had been observed, for the Times ran a caricature later that week showing a tall, buxom “Lady B____” flinging her cap at “Lord C___” as he left a church with a new bride on his arm. Lady B was throwing a dunce cap.
    I still wanted to sink every time that drawing came to mind. When I ventured out in public, I was sure I heard whispers and titters all around me. And the drawing had cost me Cliburne’s friendship too, since I could no longer bring myself to speak to him for fear of saying something gauche and over-familiar that might embarrass us both.
    Well, I was never going to make that mistake again. From now on I was done with getting my hopes up, done with showing any man the least encouragement. In fact, I was done with men, full stop. At least there was nothing laughable about embittered spinsterhood.
    “So, were you acquainted with the deceased?” Mr. Dawson asked.
    I stole a look over his shoulder at the body and shuddered. “I knew him by sight as our neighbors’ footman, but I’d never actually spoken with him.” He’d liked to flirt, I could tell, but I’d never been the kind of prey to interest him.
    Mr. Dawson nodded. “And where were you when the body was discovered?”
    “I was in the dining room, eating dinner with my mother and father.”
    “But not your sister and her affianced?”
    “They were with us at first. But a few minutes into the meal my sister said she had a headache and excused herself to take a powder for it. When she didn’t return after nearly a quarter of an hour, Lord Cliburne went looking