A Counterfeit Betrothal by Mary Balogh

Author:Mary Balogh [Balogh, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Regency, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780451172563
Publisher: Penguin Group (Canada)
Published: 1992-06-18T23:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 10

Lord Francis might as well be sitting inside the carriage instead of riding his horse, Olivia thought. For much of the journey Sophia had had the window down, her betrothed riding alongside talking with her. It was a good thing that the day was glorious and the open window necessary for their very survival. Twice, Olivia had noted, Lord Francis reached across to touch Sophia's hand as it rested on the window. That was before she closed her eyes.

It made her heart turn over to see the love of those two for each other. She yearned to urge them to hold on to their love, not to let even the strongest tempest shake it. She wanted to warn them not to set each other on pedestals, not to expect perfection just because they were in love. She wanted to tell them to allow for human frailty. She was desperately afraid that they were too much in love.

"She is sleeping," Sophia said softly. "You do not need to keep on doing that, Francis, thank you very much."

"It is no trouble at all, Soph," he said cheerfully. "How do you keep your skin so soft?" And he chuckled for no apparent reason.

"Did you see?" Sophia's voice, still almost a whisper, sounded very eager. "Did you see them kiss?"

"Very promising," he said. "The footman holding the carriage door open almost swallowed his tongue. I'll wager it will be the on dit belowstairs today, Soph, and probably for the whole week."

"I could have swooned with happiness," she said.

"I'm glad you did not," he said. "I never know quite what to do with vaporish females. Does one douse them with water, slap their cheeks, rush all about the house yelling for vinaigrettes, or kiss them back to consciousness? I suppose that last would be strictly dependent upon the female involved, of course. I might have tried it on you, Soph."

There was a small silence. "I might wake her if I respond as I would like," Sophia said, and Lord Francis chuckled.

So it had worked, Olivia thought. Sophia had been delighted by it, and she would not be able to conclude that it had been done for the benefit of the guests. There had been no one else out on the terrace except a few servants and Sophia and Lord Francis. There had been no other witnesses.

She was reacting like a girl, she thought with some disgust at herself, retiring behind closed eyes so that she might relive a brief kiss.

"Remember to buy yourself some pretty clothes, Olivia," he had said, setting an arm about her shoulders after kissing their daughter farewell. "And don't let Sophia drive you to distraction." He had winked and grinned at their daughter. "I shall be watching for you in about a week's time."

And he had bent his head and kissed her—a firm kiss with closed mouth, neither too long nor too brief. A prearranged kiss, to reassure Sophia. The sort of kiss one might expect from a father or brother.

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