when her eyes alighted on the figure of the Earl of Rosthorn, who was riding a short distance away with a gentleman Morgan did not know. She recognized the earl immediately. She had not seen him since the evening of the Cameron ball, but she had not forgotten their waltz-or their conversation. Although honesty forced her to admit that she had enjoyed herself at the time, she remembered with disapproval. He had treated her with a familiarity she resented-he had persisted in calling herchérie even when she had commanded him not to. And he had quite deliberately set out to shock her, telling her about the causes of his banishment from England, and using that word-erotic-to describe their dance. He had used it twice. And he had held her just a little too close while waltzing with her and had even moved his head a little closer once or twice to speak softly in her ear. He was, of course, a rake, and he had used his charms on her as if he thought she were a green girl and therefore quite unable to discover what he was about.
She had made up her mind after the ball that if he approached her ever again, she would give him the cut direct. She was not going to dance to anyone's tune. She was a Bedwyn, after all.
The earl had seen her. His eyes met and held hers, an expression on his face that was not quite a smile-it was half mocking, half amused. It lit his lazy eyes and tugged at the corners of his mouth. Morgan disdained to be the first to look away. She raised her eyebrows in what she hoped was a fair imitation of Wulfric when he wished to depress pretention and turn the recipient into an icicle. And then Lord Rosthorn was guiding his horse in the direction of their barouche, winding in and out of the press of other carriages and riders.
Botheration!
The group of officers parted to let him through, a few of them looking somewhat surprised.
"Ah, Lady Caddick, ma'am," he said, taking his eyes off Morgan at the last possible moment and touching the brim of his hat courteously to the countess. "I was hoping to encounter you here. How do you do?"
"Lord Rosthorn," Lady Caddick said, all amiability. "Have you been enjoying the review? I was never better entertained or more proud in my life. Are you acquainted with Caddick?"
The gentlemen, who apparently were indeed acquainted, exchanged affable nods, and Lord Rosthorn addressed the remainder of his remarks to Lady Caddick herself, while the rest of the group paused politely and looked on.
Morgan was more than a little irritated. She was longing to give him a withering set-down on some pretext.
"I am planning a picnic in the Forest of Soignés," Lord Rosthorn said, "and am in the process of considering my guest list."
"Apicnic !" Rosamond exclaimed, looking away from Major Franks and darting a bright look at Morgan.
"A picnic by moonlight," Lord Rosthorn added, smiling warmly at Rosamond before returning his attention to her mother. "It would give me the greatest pleasure, ma'am, if you and Lord Caddick would agree to be among my guests and to bring your daughter and Lady Morgan Bedwyn too."
Rosamond clasped her hands to her bosom.
"And your son as well," Lord Rosthorn added, "and any other officer of the Life Guards you would wish included in the invitation."
"That is extremely civil of you, Lord Rosthorn," Lady Caddick said. "We would be delighted to attend, would we not, Caddick?"
Lord Caddick grunted.
"Splendid!" the earl replied. "I shall do myself the honor of calling upon you in Brussels as soon as I can give you more specific details, then, ma'am."
He did not linger. He turned his horse and maneuvered it through the crowd again to rejoin his friend a short distance away. But before doing so he looked fully at Morgan, made her a polite bow, and favored her with that half-smile again, as if they shared some amusing secret. She half expected him to call herchérie .
"Well!" she said crossly to no one in particular.
She felt considerably ruffled. How dared he? He had
Laurice Elehwany Molinari