The Bachelor List Read Online Free PDF Page B

bad idea,” Prudence said.
    Cobham nodded his head as he flicked the whip across the horses' flanks. “Expensive business, motors.”
    The Beekmans' house on Grosvenor Square was brilliantly lit both within and without. A footman stood on the pavement directing the traffic and a trio of underfootmen held up lanterns to light the guests' way up the steps and into the house.
    “Ah, if it isn't the Honorable Misses Duncan,” a familiar smooth voice declared from the steps behind them as they went up. “How pleasant to meet you again.”
    Constance was the first to turn and the first to realize that she had responded to the greeting with more than ordinary alacrity. She disguised this beneath a cool smile and offered a small bow of her head. “Mr. Ensor. A pleasure.” She turned unusually enthusiastic attention to his sister beside him. “Letitia, you look wonderful. Such an elegant gown; is it Paquin? The gold trimming has her look. We haven't seen you for several weeks. Were you in the country?”
    “Oh, yes, Bertie insisted we fetch Pamela from Kent ourselves. She spent a few weeks in the country but she gets bored so quickly. Children do.” Lady Graham smiled fondly. “Her governess gets quite distracted trying to keep her occupied.”
    Constance inclined her head in acknowledgment but she couldn't help the slightly disparaging lift of her mobile eyebrows that frequently betrayed her true responses. It was an involuntary reaction she thought she had inherited from her mother. She smiled in an effort to counteract the effect of the eyebrows and continued up the steps.
    “May I help you with your cloak, Miss Duncan?” Max Ensor moved behind her when they reached the majestic pillared hall and with a calm and seemingly innate confidence reached around her neck to unclasp her silk cloak.
    “Thank you.” She was taken aback. Men did not in general presume to offer her such attentions unasked. She saw that Letitia was in animated conversation with Prudence and Chastity and clearly no longer in need of her brother's escort.
    Max smiled and folded the cloak over his arm, turning to find a servant to take it from him. “I have a feeling you disapproved of my niece's inattention to her governess,” he observed once he'd divested himself of his own black silk opera cloak, its crimson silk lining a jaunty flash of color against the black and white of his evening attire.
    “My wretched eyebrows,” she said with a mock sigh, and he laughed.
    “They do seem rather eloquent.”
    Constance shrugged. “I have very strong feelings on the education of women. I see no reason why girls should not be expected to learn as well as boys.” She noticed a twinkle in Max Ensor's blue eyes as she spoke that disconcerted her. Was he laughing at her? Mocking her opinion?
    She felt her hackles rise and continued with an edge to her voice, “I can only assume your niece has a poor governess. Either she's incapable of making her lessons interesting, or she's incapable of making her charge pay attention.”
    “The fault I fear lies with Pamela's mother,” Max said, and while his eyes still contained that glint of humor his tone was now all seriousness. He offered Constance his arm to ascend the wide sweep of stairs leading to the gallery above, from whence the strains of a Chopin waltz drifted down. “She will not have the child subjected to any form of structure or discipline. What Pammy doesn't like, Pammy doesn't do.”
    Constance looked up at him. His mouth had now acquired a rather severe twist and the amusement in his eyes had been replaced by a distinctly critical expression. “You don't care for your niece?”
    “Oh, yes, I care for her a great deal. It's not her fault that she's so spoiled. But she's only six, so I have hopes she'll grow out of it.”
    He was speaking with the level certainty of experience. Her antagonism died under a surge of curiosity. “Do you have children of your own, Mr. Ensor?”
    He shook his head