The Pretenders Read Online Free PDF Page A

notice in the
Morning Post
. It announced our engagement, and that Mama and I were visiting in Berkeley Square for a few weeks before we retired to the country for the summer months.
    I had to admit I got the strangest feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw my name written down in black and white:
Deborah Mary Elizabeth Woodly, daughter of the late Lord Lynly of Lynly Hall;
then came Reeve’s name; then came:
a marriage has been arranged
.
    Last week at this time I had been floating down the River Cam with Mr. Liskey. Now here I was in London with Reeve, preparing to meet London society as his intended bride.
    I prided myself on my nerves of steel. I could throw my heart over any fence, boldly take a nervous horse across any ground, but the thought of appearing in a London ballroom made me as tense as a three-year-old when he first encounters a pack of hounds.
    “I have an invite to the Merytons’ ball tonight, Deb,” Reeve had said cheerfully at breakfast. ”That should be a good enough place for you to make your debut as my intended.”
    His white teeth snapped a piece of bacon in half. He chewed it with relish.
    I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him. “How many people are likely to be at this good-enough ball?”
    “Not above two hundred, I should think,” he replied. ”London is starting to thin out as people go to Brighton or to their country estates.”
    “I realize that two hundred people might not seem like much to you, Reeve dear, but it is a great many people to us,” Mama said softly.
    He reached across the table to pat her hand. “I will take care of you and Deb, Mrs. Woodly. Never fear. All will be well.”
    Hah
, I thought. If I was reduced to relying on Reeve to take care of me, I was in trouble indeed.

Chapter Three
    DRESSED FOR THE MERYTON BALL IN A STATE OF nervous apprehension, which I valiantly tried to keep hidden under a calm exterior. The maid whom Reeve had hired to attend to my personal needs did my hair in a deceptively simple knot at the base of my neck. White roses were tucked around the knot, and she used the curling iron to coax two soft ringlets to dangle alongside my ears.
    The hairdresser had originally wanted to cut my hair short, which was the current style. However, once I learned that this meant I would be forced to spend hours each day under a curling iron, I had put my foot down and insisted that she leave it long.
    The maid was doing up the small covered buttons at the back of my pale blue-silk dress when the door opened and my mother came in.
    She looked utterly beautiful. Unlike me, she had agreed to have her hair cut and the short, feathery, silver-blond curls that framed her face made her look so young she quite took my breath away.
    “You look beautiful, Mama,” I said sincerely.
    She smiled. “You look nice too, dearest.”
    Bless Mama. She knew the last thing I wanted at the moment was effusive comment on my appearance.
    “Is Miss Woodly ready yet?” she asked my maid, whose name was Susan.
    “I will be five more minutes, Mrs. Woodly,” Susan replied.
    Mama patted me gently on the arm, and said, “Then I will wait for you downstairs, Deborah.”
    I nodded.
    Exactly seven minutes later, I was walking slowly down the stairs of Lambeth House, still striving to keep my nervousness from showing on my face. As I came around the curve of the staircase I glanced to the bottom of the steps and saw Reeve standing there, looking up at me. His face was wearing an expression I had never seen before.
    “Good God, Deb,” he said. ”You’re beautiful.”
    I reached the bottom of the stairs and gave him a doubtful look. “Do you really think I look all right?”
    “All right?” He continued to stare at me. ”I think you’re rather more than all right.”
    I smoothed the silk of my blue gown. It was cut lower than anything I had ever worn in my life, and I filled out the décolletage admirably. Madame Dufand had certainly known how to disguise any deficiency I