The Famous Heroine/The Plumed Bonnet Read Online Free PDF Page B

intention of dancing with Jane.
    Cora set her arm along the turquoise one and repressed the very silly urge to giggle yet again. She had
never
been a giggler. She had no wish to acquire the nasty habit at this advanced stage of her life.
    She wished with all the power of her being that she had bought her slippers in a larger size. There was plenty of room for her feet in these particular ones but very little left over for her toes.
    She smiled hard, trying not to look gauche.
    I
LOVE
THE vigor of a country dance
. The words rang in Lord Francis’s ears as he led Miss Cora Downes onto the floor. She was priceless. He felt marvelously diverted.
And I ruined a brand-new bonnet
. When she might have preened herself on her reputation as a heroine, someone who had risked her life in order to save that of a child, she had belittled herself with such an observation.
    She was almost, though not quite, as tall as he, he noticed. And he prided himself on being considerably above the average in height. She was the possessor of truly glorious curves, which even the loose-fitting, high-waisted style of her fashionable gown could not hide. Of course, muslin was a notorious figure-hugger. She waslooking all about her with her eager face and bold eyes, not even attempting to hide her interest and curiosity. She caught his eye and—grinned.
    “I am so
glad
you asked me to dance,” she said. “I had positive horrors that no one would. And I suppose her grace could not actually
coerce
anyone into it. I daresay his grace asked you to ask me, which was remarkably kind of him, considering the fact that I am no relative of his and I am not sure he even approves of me. And it was kind of you too to say yes to him.”
    Lord Francis supposed that most young ladies must experience such fears. But he had never before heard one candidly confess to them—in a voice slightly louder than was necessary to make herself heard above the hum of conversation and the sound of the orchestra tuning their instruments.
    He thought of Samantha and the fact that she must never have felt the fear of being without a partner at a ball. She had always been besieged by admirers and suitors. Tiny, dainty, blond-haired, exquisitely lovely Samantha. Just a few weeks ago he had been dancing with her himself, her most devoted suitor, though she had chosen to believe after betrothing herself to Carew that he had never been serious about her. His heart performed a series of painful somersaults and landed in the soles of his shoes again.
    “Perhaps,” he said, “I saw you and admired you as soon as you came into the ballroom, Miss Downes, and sought an introduction to you. Have you thought of that?”
    She looked squarely at him and he could see that she
was
thinking about it. And then she laughed. It was not a giggle this time, he was happy to find. It was a laugh of unrestrained mirth, drawing to her the rather startled glances of the other couples who were forming their particular set.
    “You saw me and admired me,” she said. “Oh, that is a good one.”
    He was not at liberty to consider what the one was or what was good about it. The music had begun and Lady Markley’s daughter and her newly betrothed were leading off the first set.
    It was indeed a lively country dance, which the ladies performed with grace and precision and Miss Cora Downes performed with—enthusiasm. She danced with energetic vigor just as if there were not a whole eveningful of sets yet to be danced, and with a bright smile on her face.
    She danced, Lord Francis decided, as if she should have the ribbon of a maypole in her hand and sunshine on her face and in her loosened chestnut hair and all the fresh beauty of a village green surrounding her.
    He watched her with considerable amusement and not a little appreciation—in her own way she was rather magnificent, he decided. And other gentlemen watched her too. There was something about her even apart from her height and her curves that would