The Ideal Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

gentleman, bluff and severe. “It is good that we now have peace, but there is much to be done. My country is very interested in the building of ships—do you know much of the shipyards?”
     
      Denying any knowledge of the industry, Michael moved to draw the ambassador into the conversation. The general pointed out that Austria had no seaport and thus no navy. Michael swung the conversation to agriculture, unsurprised when Caro seized the moment to steer Ferdinand away.
     
      She returned minutes later alone. Rescuing Michael, she introduced him to the other guests—three English diplomats and their wives; a Scots parliamentarian, Mr. Driscoll; his wife and two daughters; and a notoriously attractive Irish peer, Lord Sommerby, whom Mrs. Driscoll was eyeing askance.
     
      Finally, with a softening smile, Caro turned to the last group in the room. She waved at her brother in affectionate dismissal; exchanging grins, Michael shook hands with Geoffrey. He was a large man, heavy-set, with sloping shoulders that accentuated a care-worn air; for all he’d been the local Member for years, a gathering of this caliber was in some ways beyond him.
     
      “I understand you and   Elizabeth   met in town.” With a fond smile, Caro indicated the slim young woman standing beside Geoffrey.
     
      At last. “Indeed.” Michael took the slender hand   Elizabeth   extended. “Miss Mollison.” He’d seen her when he’d entered, but had been careful not to show any particular interest. He now tried to catch her eye, tried to gauge her reaction to him, but although she smiled sunnily up at him and their gazes met, he could detect no real attentiveness behind her blue eyes.
     
      They deflected almost instantly as Caro introduced the younger man standing somewhat diffidently beside   Elizabeth . “My secretary, Edward Campbell. He was Camden’s aide, but I grew so used to relying on him that I decided he was simply too valuable to let go.”
     
      Campbell threw her a look as if to remind her he was only her secretary. He offered his hand; Michael shook it, visited by an urge to recommend Campbell keep his eye on Ferdinand. Suppressing it, he turned instead to the most urgent matter on his plate:   Elizabeth   Mollison.
     
      “I hear you’re in line for advancement,” Geoffrey said.
     
      He smiled easily. “That’s for the Prime Minister to say, and he won’t, not until autumn.”
     
      “He always did play his cards close to his chest. So, what’s the state of the Irish these days? Think you’ll head that way?”
     
      Exchanging political news with Geoffrey was the perfect cover for looking over his daughter.   Elizabeth   stood beside her father and idly surveyed the room; she affected no interest in their conversation— indeed, seemed oblivious of it. Caro claimed Campbell’s arm and went to circulate. Michael shifted so he could better observe   Elizabeth .
     
      There was something not quite right…
     
      He glanced at Caro, then back at   Elizabeth , then surreptitiously noted the gowns the other two young ladies, Driscoll’s daughters, were wearing. One was soft pink, the other pale primrose.
     
      Elizabeth   had chosen to wear white.
     
      Many unmarried young ladies did, especially during their first Season.   Elizabeth   had just completed hers, yet… white didn’t suit her. She was already so fair, and with her pale blond hair the result was poor. Especially as she’d chosen to complement the gauzy gown with diamonds.
     
      Considering the outcome, Michael inwardly frowned. He would never presume to instruct a lady in what to wear, yet he was aware of the difference between a well-dressed lady and a poorly dressed one. In political circles, one rarely saw the latter.
     
      Seeing   Elizabeth   as she was was something of a jolt. Quite aside from the white making her appear washed out, the combination of the virginal gown with the blatant fire of the