The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton Read Online Free PDF

were too many ladies.” She frowned. “Why are there never enough gentlemen at balls?” This question evoked a groan which Celia read as a demand that she get on with the story. “As soon as you came through the door I noticed you. All the ladies did, you understand, since there weren’t enough partners to go around.”
    “Is that the only reason?”
    “You are very tall.”
    “How gratifying to be noticed for something beyond the mere fact of being male.”
    “Male and able to dance. The vicar entered with you but he can’t walk without a cane.” Realizing she needed to put a little effort into her depiction of their courtship, she edged around to look him in the eye. “I noticed you particularly because you are so handsome.”
    “Am I?” He sounded surprised. “I don’t know what I look like.”
    This part was easy. She had only to describe Mr. Compton as she’d first seen him in a London ballroom. “Oh yes! Though in an uncommon way. Your nose is quite prominent, your chin firm, and your eyes so dark a brown as to appear almost ebony. But what struck me most is the way you present yourself. You always hold yourself so proudly, and your attire is faultless. Your clothes fit perfectly without any flaw. Your neck cloth is a work of art. And even with black hair and a dark complexion, I have never seen a cleaner-shaven man. People always wonder how you do it. Mr. Baldwin, my employer, is a dark man and by midday he almost has a beard.”
    While she described his features, Mr. Compton examined his face with his hand. He rubbed his chin. “Not so smooth now. I fear by the morning I will have a beard.”
    Celia gave into temptation and ran the tips of her fingers over the rough bristles forming on his jaw. “I like it,” she said truthfully. “It makes you look a little like a pirate in a storybook.”
    “I’m pleased to hear it. The way you portray me makes me sound a blasted dandy. Did you just choke?”
    She snatched away her hand. “Frog in my throat. I would never fall in love with a dandy.”
    “I wish I could say I remember any of this, but none of it seems familiar. What happened after I entered the ballroom?”
    “You looked across the room and saw me. As soon as our eyes met I fell in love, and later you told me you had felt the same way. Although Mrs. Wilkinson—”
    “Remind me, who is she?”
    “Our hostess. Mrs. Wilkinson tried to present you to other young ladies but you declined to meet anyone but me.”
    “That seems shabby behavior.”
    “I thought it excessively romantic. You asked me to stand up for the country dance and afterward you fetched us lemonade.”
    “What a thrilling entertaient.”
    “It was the most wonderful night of my life. The next day you called on me at Mr. Baldwin’s and a week later we were betrothed.”
    “How could I afford to offer marriage? Are the Fishes a family of means? Where do they come from?”
    Celia repressed a sigh of exasperation. Instead of being carried away by her tale of love at first sight, Mr. Compton insisted on asking a lot of boring, practical, and highly inconvenient questions, as though he were her father instead of her lover. Of course he wasn’t her lover, but he didn’t know that. She scrutinized a mental map of England for an area far from Yorkshire.
    “Your home is in Cornwall. Near Falmouth, on the sea.”
    “A very suitable location for a family of Fishes. Are we big Fish or little Fish?”
    “You told me your family is highly respected.”
    “But the question is, how big is the pond in which we swim? And how many are in the shoal? Am I an orphan Fish? An only Fish? Do I have living parents or close relations?”
    “You never told me very much about your family,” Celia said cautiously. “You must at least be acquainted with big fish in Cornwall. You have a promise of an excellent living near . . . Truro.”
    “Then why am I studying for the church in Yorkshire? It seems a long way to go. I should think I could