His Heart's Delight Read Online Free PDF

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shopping.
    “By the time Joanna tied on her pink kid
slippers, Christiana had convinced her that she would not be
wasting the day in her room. Joanna hurried down to the green salon
as the first knock on the door sounded.
    Christiana ran through the connecting door
and into her own bedroom, which faced the front of the house.
Drawing the damask drapes, she peeked through the sheer material
that blocked eyes but not light from her room. The street was full
of carriages, moving as quickly as the congestion would allow.
Several were drawn in front of their town house. One matron and her
daughter hurried up the steps.
    She sighed. Despite Mama’s criticism she had
kept her commitment to Richard a closely held secret. Why had she
ever promised Papa that until she returned from London there would
be no formal engagement?
    Why did he find it so hard to credit that a
lifetime of friendship had grown into something more? There were
moments when she wondered if Papa entirely approved of Richard.
That was foolish! Of course he approved. The Wiltons and Lamberts
had been neighbors for generations and friends almost as long. When
Richard had asked to speak to him, Papa had not seemed surprised.
He’d maintained it was inevitable that someday proximity and
friendship between the Wiltons and Lamberts would lead to a closer
attachment.
    Christiana did not like the idea that their
connection was “inevitable” or “expected.” She longed for the day
when they married and she could join Richard.
    She had even decided that if, heaven forbid,
the war persisted she would join him in Europe. She would follow
the drum. She would not be the first to show her devotion that
way.
    In the meantime she needed to find someone as
unconcerned with courtship as she was. Then Mama could not berate
her for stealing attention from Joanna. She thought again of Lord
Morgan. He would have been perfect. He danced beautifully and could
flirt with such skill that all other thoughts fled her brain. One
glance across the Westbournes’ ballroom had convinced her of
that.
    But if he were, as Peter said, seriously
searching for a bride then he would not do at all. If his lone
dance with her had any significance, then he needed to know that
she was not available, but how could she tell him if she had
promised not to tell anyone? She sighed again as though one long
breath would dispel her quandary.
    Taking a last look at the street below,
Christiana could see a gentleman of more mature years climb the
front steps, a small nosegay in hand. She leaned a little closer to
the window and he must have caught the movement, for he looked in
her direction.
    With a little squeal Christiana stepped back
into the room. Oh, please do not let him see me gaping like a
peagoose. It was the flowers, not the bearer that had caught
her attention: a cluster of colorful blossoms, casually arranged,
and they reminded her of the time she and Richard had gathered a
similar bouquet.
    She drew her wrapper around her, sat at the
writing table, and considered what she had written last night.
Letters between them might not be permitted yet, but she could
pretend. So her journal was written in letter format all of them
addressed “Dearest Richard.”
     
    Do you recall the wildflowers we picked that
spring only a few months ago? We sought a flower in every color and
I treasure that bouquet to this day. I must tell you that the glory
of those flowers is nothing compared to the color that was only
part of the thrill of my first London ball.
    ~ ~ ~
    Mrs. Lambert would have been gratified to
know that Morgan Braedon read the bit of gossip with as much
annoyance as she had. She would have been less pleased by the
soft-spoken but thorough expression of disgust that caused Morgan’s
valet to raise his eyebrows. Roberts stepped closer, bending as if
to pick up a discarded neckcloth.
    He was a loyal servant, but endlessly
curious. Morgan was certain that Roberts knew as many of the latest on-dits