Anne Barbour Read Online Free PDF Page A

eyebrow.
    “Yes,” continued Miss Burch hastily, turning to face Marcus.
    “Tell me, Lord Stedford, how is it you chanced to accompany Lord Simon on his journey?”
    For an instant, Simon thought he beheld a spark of intense, intelligent interest in the spinster’s eyes. It was so quickly replaced, however, by a placid stare that he felt he must have been mistaken. He and Marcus launched on a condensed explanation of the viscount’s decision to go a-traveling.
    “Your estate marches with that of Lord Simon’s family?” Miss Burch asked interestedly. “A large estate, one assumes?”
    Startled, Marcus nodded a brief assent.
    “Splendid! I’m sure Wini—That is, everyone hereabouts will be anxious to make your acquaintance. How lovely that you have come!” Miss Burch clapped her hands in a singularly inappropriate gesture of girlish delight. “I know dear Winifred will be delighted to welcome you, as well. Perhaps a dinner party will be in order to introduce you—both of you, of course—to the neighborhood.”
    She prattled on in this vein for some minutes until Simon was forced to conclude in some puzzlement that Miss Burch was inordinately pleased at Marc’s appearance at Selworth.
    “Tell me about Miss Timburton,” Simon said determinedly. “You spoke of her friendship with Miss, er. Does she have any other particular friends in the neighborhood?”
    “Oh, my, yes.” Miss Burch’s words were accompanied by a wide smile that, to Simon’s astonishment imparted a certain charm to her sharp features. “There’s Squire Bridge’s daughter, Susan, and Maria Dillon. Sweet girls, both of them. Winifred is also quite fond of Lady Ann Brace, although her family—her papa is the Earl of Granbrook—lives some distance away. When they are in the area, of course—-”
    “What about male friends?” interjected Simon, immediately cursing his own bluntness. Oh, well, he thought, in for a penny ... “That is, I was wondering, frankly, if she has formed any attachments among the local sprigs.”
    “Oh, that.” Miss Burch’s face fell and Simon’s heart sank as well. Was Winifred an antidote then, as he had feared?
    “As to that . . .” Miss Burch fiddled with the fringe of her shawl. “Dear Winifred’s heart appears to be untouched—not that she is not greatly sought after,” she finished in a rush.
    Suspicions confirmed, thought Simon grimly, fancying he could hear a clock ticking loudly in the background. The girl was obviously planted on the shelf like a begonia and it would take every bit of ingenuity at his command to uproot her. Surely, though, with her dowry ...
    “What?” he asked, startled, in response to a sharp nudge.
    “May I offer you a sandwich?” Miss Burch hovered above him, gesturing to a refreshment tray that had just been brought into the room by Fellowes. “We have cucumber and potted ham. Although, perhaps you should not indulge, since luncheon is only an hour away. Of course, we could put luncheon back—or rather”— she threw her head back in another unattractive bray of, laughter—”you could put it back—for you are master here now.”
    God, was there no end to the woman’s tactless inanity? Swallowing a scathing retort, he selected a sandwich, which he placed with rigid fingers on his plate. Miss Burch moved to Marcus who, with his usual insouciant aplomb, accepted a cucumber sandwich and one of ham.
    “Speaking of which,” said Miss Burch, sipping her tea primly, “I am sure you will wish to confer with the staff at the earliest possible—oh!” she squeaked, as the door opened suddenly. “Here is dear Winifred now!”
    Simon swung about in his seat. His mouth, full of ham sandwich, fell open as he faced the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. It was as though a goddess had stepped from the heights of Mount Olympus. To state that Winifred Timburton was tall and well-formed scarcely did justice to her willowy, perfectly proportioned figure. A scented cloud of