Her Officer and Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

evening until Beth asked to be taken home.
    Fortunately, this all worked in Beth’s favor. She found an absentee chaperone the best kind, and it was quite a good thing that Beatrice had been held up an extra two weeks. Already in the month since Beth had arrived in London, the group of men waiting for her at any gathering had steadilylessened. From twenty or so eager fortune hunters, there were now only five.
    Beth eyed the group with a martial light in her eye. If she could discourage but one of them from trying to win her favor, then her evening could be considered a success.
    A dapper young gentleman walked by and accidentally caught Beth’s eye. She smiled and waved. He gaped, gulped, looked wildly about as if trying to find an escape before whirling on his heel and almost running in the opposite direction.
    Lady Clearmont blinked. “That was Viscount Poole-Stanton!”
    “Yes,” Beth said, trying hard not to let her smile burst into a full-fledged grin.
    Lady Clearmont turned to look at Beth. “Why is he avoiding you? He seemed quite taken at first and called nearly every day. Then he quit. So, too, did Lord Silverton, Mr. Benton-Shipley, Sir Thomas, Lord Chivers—all of them!”
    “It’s an odd thing, isn’t it?” Beth said, shaking her head. “Gentlemen today are so undecided.”
    Lady Clearmont considered this. “So true! Just look at the prince. Such a sad state of affairs.”
    Beth lifted up on her tiptoes. “I vow, but is that Lord Beaufort going into the card room?”
    “Is it? I won forty guineas from him yesterday. Perhaps he’s ready for another trouncing!” She turned to go to the card room, then paused. “Do you—”
    “I will be right here when you return.” Beth looked at the small knot of gentlemen hovering just out of earshot. The second her chaperone left,they would descend on her like locusts. A plague, that’s what they were.
    “Very well. You know where to find me if you need me.” Smiling, Lady Clearmont eagerly made her way to the card room.
    Beth did not allow her admirers to swarm. Instead, she walked directly toward them. The group of fashionably dressed men straightened, hands going to cravats, tugging on shirt cuffs, smoothing back already smoothed hair.
    “Lady Elizabeth!” the Duke of Standwich said, stepping forward with an eager bow. “How delightful you look this evening!” An older gentleman, he dyed his hair an unfortunate shade of brown, which had a tendency to turn his shirt collars an odd reddish color.
    Viscount Longwood took her gloved hand and pressed a heated kiss to it. The youngest son of a destitute earl, the viscount was desperate for a wife with funds. “I was just telling the comte that you are the loveliest woman in all of London.”
    “And I,” Comte Villiers hurried to add, “told everyone that you were the loveliest woman in the entire world!”
    Beth suspected that the comte’s tales of escaping France with his fortune intact were largely that—tales.
    She glanced over her shoulder to make certain Lady Clearmont was well away before she sank into a graceful curtsy. “Y-y-you are all t-t-t-too kind. Th-th-thank you, C-C-C-Comte V-V-V-Villiers and L-L-L-Lor—”
    “Indeed,” Viscount Dewsbury interruptedhastily. Nineteen years of age, he was the only one of Beth’s remaining suitors who possessed any means, though the one with the least amount of address. He took her hand now and patted it in a patronizing manner. “Lady Elizabeth, there is no need for you to bother your pretty head remembering all of our names.”
    Beth had to bite her lip to smother a chuckle. “B-b-b-b-but I should th-th-th-thank you all f-f-f-f-f-or—”
    “Precisely,” the duke interrupted with a rather superior smirk. “Lady Elizabeth, I hope you have saved a dance for me?”
    “I-I-I-I-I—”
    A young matron in pink burst into view. “There you are!”
    Beth gasped. “Beatrice!” She was instantly enveloped into a heavily perfumed hug. “When did you