Utterly Devoted Read Online Free PDF

late has been remarked upon, and kindly.”
    “She is much changed,” Cleo added with evident pride. “Even Lord Owens confided that he had misjudged you, and I know you remember how he ceased his suit of you last year. He knows you are a different person now.”
    Eloise could see Leslie smiling as he gave his wife’s hand another squeeze. “I would argue that Eloise isn’t so much changed, my dear, as she has finally decided to hoist her true colors.” He nodded to Eloise. “And I sincerely hope that you do not let Jareth Darby force you to fly a false flag again. You have too much to offer.”
    His words and Cleo’s support eased her heart, yet she could not seem to stop the churning of her mind. The last year of her life had been the best since she was a child, largely because of her friendship with the Hastings. Just tonight she had been sure she had achieved her goal of being a woman worthy of acceptance, appreciation, approval. Why now did Jareth Darby have to reappear in her life!
    By the time they reached her father’s townhouse on Curzon Street, she had regained some of her composure. She suffered the butler to solemnly remove her cloak.
    “His lordship is awaiting you in the garden withdrawing room, Miss Watkin,” he intoned.
    “Thank you, Bryerton,” she replied. Although she’d lived in the house with her father since graduating from the Barnsley School three years ago and knew the various rooms well, she let the butler lead her. His step was slow and stately, as if he ushered her to her coronation rather than a late night conversation with her father. Such was Bryerton’s way.
    He had been the family butler for as long as she could remember, but, by his own choice, he had never become the faithful old retainer so many families boasted. One had only to look at Bryerton’s regal bearing, the powdered wig he still affected, and the impeccably tailored black velvet coat he wore to know that he took his position as head of the household staff seriously. If his demeanor were not enough, the spotless glow of the stately rooms with their corniced ceilings, pastel-colored walls, and buffed wood floors would have told her that the household staff marched to strict orders and considered polish next to godliness.
    At times, she wished for a less formal existence, but her father seemed to relish it. Now he responded with a curt answer to the butler’s rap at the door to the second-floor withdrawing room that overlooked their small garden.
    As Eloise entered on Bryerton’s heels, she saw that her father was sitting in a scroll-backed chair near the wood-wrapped fireplace, freshly ironed evening paper in front of him. His spare form was clothed in his usual brown suit and tan-striped waistcoat. Like Bryerton, he held to an immutable order of things, which seemed to include never allowing his daughter to see him in less than a formal setting. Tonight she would much rather have curled up beside him on the sofa, but she knew better than to suggest such a thing.
    “Miss Watkin to see you, my lord,” the butler announced as if she’d been away years instead of a few hours.
    Her father put down the paper. A smile lit his thin, pale face. “Ah, Eloise. Come in. Tell me about Almack’s.”
    Eloise hesitated only a moment before going to stand before him. A part of her would have liked nothing better than to throw herself into the seat beside him and tell him exactly what had happened and how much it concerned her. Before retiring from the diplomatic corps, her father had traveled throughout Europe. She’d heard that he’d seen any number of volatile affairs and found ways to smooth them. Surely he’d know how to handle Jareth Darby.
    The only problem was, he had no idea what Jareth meant to her.
    Besides, Bryerton was stationed beside the door, and she didn’t want to speak of sensitive subjects in his hearing. So she remained standing and returned her father’s smile. “Almack’s was a bit tiring tonight.