A Country Cotillion by Sandra Heath

Author:Sandra Heath [Heath, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1992-09-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The time approached to go down to the grand chamber before dinner, and Elizabeth’s preparations were almost complete as she sat at the dressing table for Violet to carefully tease the final curl into place.

It had proved a welcome and unexpected diversion to be able to choose from all the clothes she had brought from London, and she had decided upon a gown made of lavender Spanish merino. It had a low square neckline, a silver drawstring at the high waist immediately beneath her breasts, and there was silver embroidery on the hem and little puffed sleeves. With it she intended to carry a warm white grenadine shawl with knotted ends that would swing when she moved.

Her hair was dressed up into a tumble of little curls on top of her head and was fixed in place with a tall silver comb. She wore silver-and-amethyst earrings, and a matching necklace, and she was pleased with her reflection in the little looking glass on the dressing table. Dabbing a little lavender water behind her ears, she got up and shook out the skirt of her gown.

“You look lovely, madam,” Violet said admiringly before beginning to put away the unused pins.

“I hope so,” Elizabeth replied with feeling, for tonight she had to continue making up for her recent failings. “Do you know if the duke has returned yet?”

“He had not when I came up from the kitchens, madam.”

“I wonder what he’s like?” Elizabeth mused, for Marcus Sheridan was still something of a mystery.

“All the maids here think he is the most handsome gentleman in all the world. They’re all sighing over him.”

“Indeed?”

Violet nodded. “The maid who showed us here to this room told me all the gossip below stairs, madam.”

“Gossip? About the duke?”

“Yes, madam. It seems he was heard telling Mr. McPherson that he intends to sell Rainworth and then return to America. I believe there is a lady he intends to marry.”

Elizabeth stared at her. “He actually means to sell Rainworth?”

“That is what they are saying, madam.”

“But it is his heritage, his family have lived here for hundreds of years!”

“Yes, madam.”

Elizabeth did not say anything more, for she could not imagine that anyone would voluntarily sell a house like this, but would only do so if in financial straits.

The footman came to conduct her to the grand chamber, and after pulling her shawl comfortably around her shoulders, she followed him back the way the maid had brought her earlier. The grand chamber opened off the main entrance hall, and so Elizabeth found herself retracing her steps exactly, walking along the gallery above the cloisters, and then emerging at the top of the staircase. She was about to descend behind the footman when she heard someone hailing the house outside, and she stopped instinctively, her hand resting on the topmost lion newel post.

The outer door burst open, and a cloaked gentleman strode in, his spurred top boots leaving snowy prints on the stone floor. His face was hidden by his tall-crowned

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