The Winter Wish Read Online Free PDF Page A

no means subtle – perusal of her body, Sarah
missed the question entirely. “My… my what?” she asked.
    “Lady
Dawson has been traveling until recently,” Lily interceded smoothly. “She has
just returned to London.”
    It
was not exactly a lie. Sarah had been traveling, if one counted the trip
back and forth to her family’s estate in the country. And it was certainly a
better answer than the truth: that this was her seventh season and she had yet
to attract the attention of a single suitor.
    “Might
I place my name on your dance card?” Lord Gibson queried with a smile.
    Belatedly
Sarah realized he had a mustache that curled over the edge of his top lip and
was waxed at the corners. It was not a bad mustache – she had certainly seen
worse – but she did not find it appealing, and she knew the reason why.
    Quite
simply, Devlin did not have a mustache.
    And
his was the only name Sarah wanted on her dance card.
    “Sarah,
dear,” Lily said in a strained voice that was at odds with her beaming smile,
“Lord Gibson is awaiting your reply.” She lowered her tone and simultaneously
raised one hand, feigning a delicate cough while she hissed, “Surely you have
heard of Lord Gibson, the Marquess of Faraday! If you do not dance with
him I shall. Now bat your eyelashes, stick out your chest, and say yes!”
    “Yes,”
Sarah said obediently. She blinked a few times, but it made her feel dizzy, and
when she attempted to inexpertly push her chest out something popped in her back.
Thankfully the Marquess did not seem to notice and, taking her dance booklet,
he signed his name with gusto beneath the fourth dance.
    “Until
we meet again,” he said with great dramatic flair, bowing so low that Sarah was
quite impressed he did not tip over before he disappeared into the crowd.
    “What
was that?” Lily cried the moment Lord Gibson was out of sight. Grabbing Sarah’s
wrist, she stalked past the refreshment tables filled with various pastries,
cuts of bread, and colorful fruit to the corner of the ballroom where a handful
of fellow wallflowers obligingly turned their heads.
    “Have
you gone mad?” Sarah asked, yanking her arm free once they were partially
obscured behind a towering ivory pillar. The swift walk away from the dance
floor had cleared her head immensely, but it had not given her an answer as to
why Lily’s expressive violet eyes were glittering with annoyance. The
brunette’s anger did not come as a complete surprise – she was forever getting
herself worked up over this and that – although this time Sarah did not have
the vaguest clue as to what had caused her temper to flare. 
    “You
hesitated,” Lily accused in a hushed tone. Crossing her arms tight across her
chest, she tossed back her head and scowled. “When Lord Gibson asked you to
dance, you hesitated. Why, Sarah? Any other woman would jump at the opportunity
and you had to be talked into it! If this is about Lord Heath—”
    “This
is not about him ,” Sarah hissed. “And do keep your voice down!” Quickly
looking around to ascertain if they had been overhead, she relaxed marginally
when she saw the small crowd of wallflowers were more interested in gushing
over the arrival of a handsome Earl than what she and Lily were arguing about.
    “You promised ,” Lily said emphatically. “You gave me your word you would not
think of him anymore after the sleigh ride debacle.”
    With
an unhappy sigh Sarah clasped her hands together and looked down, unable to
meet Lily’s judgmental gaze. “I know I did,” she whispered. “But I cannot seem
to help myself.”
    “You
said he was rude to you,” Lily reminded her. “You said he did not even wish you
a good day! Is that the kind of man you want to be in love with? No,” she said,
answering her own question before Sarah could get a word in edgewise. “He is
quite nice to look at, I will give him that. And wealthy, although I know that
does not matter to you. But his demeanor matters,