A Proper Taming by Overfield Joan

Author:Overfield, Joan [Overfield, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ten Talents Press
Published: 2014-07-05T23:00:00+00:00

"So you are Miss Haverall," the elderly woman said, her pale-blue eyes narrowing as they rested on Portia's face. "Can't say as I've heard the name before. Are you in society?"

"No, Mrs. Goodkin, I am not," Portia replied in a stiff voice, wishing the disagreeable old biddy would go off and find someone else to pester. She had been trapped with the squire's mother-in-law for the past quarter hour, and she could feel her small store of patience evaporating. Another five minutes in the woman's company, and she would not be held responsible for whatever she might say . . . or do, she added silently, casting a longing look at the punch bowl.

"I thought not." Satisfaction dripped from Mrs. Goodkin as she raised her punch glass to her lips for a noisy gulp. "At first I thought you might be another of dear Lady Eliza's companions, but when she assured me you are here as her guest, I must admit I was stymied. However did you meet?"

When I bashed her son over the head with a bed warmer, Portia thought, wondering what the older woman's reaction would be if she were to admit to the truth. Doubtlessly she would swoon with horror, and then go dashing off to spread the gossip once she had recovered, Portia decided with a scornful smirk.

"Her ladyship is an old friend of my great-aunt, the Countess of Lowton," she said instead, raising her chin and giving Mrs. Goodkin a superior look. "Perhaps you have heard of her?"

Mrs. Goodkin's jowly face turned a mottled red. "I believe I may have," she muttered, her gaze sliding away from Portia's. She glanced around the crowded drawing room, brightening visibly as her gaze came to rest on a woman in an atrocious ensemble of purple and gold silk.

"I see my neighbor, Mrs. Fashingham, over there talking to our hostess," she said, already pushing herself to her feet. "If you will excuse me, Miss Haverall, I believe I shall go over and have a word with her."

"Must you go so soon? How sad," Portia cooed, delighted at having achieved her objective with so little effort.

Other than a sharp look, Mrs. Goodkin gave no indication she had caught the sarcasm in Portia's voice, and Portia was left in blissful solitude. Content, she settled back against her chair, her eyes bright with pleasure as she gazed slowly about her.

It was all going quite well, she thought, satisfaction spreading through her. Her decision to move the party indoors had proven a good one, as rain had begun falling minutes after the last guest to arrive had made his bows. The guests took the change of location in stride, and other than a pair of blonde beauties who were obviously put out not to be able to wear their pretty new bonnets, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Or almost everyone, she amended with a sigh, her gaze coming to rest on the earl.

He was standing in the corner by the fireplace, his posture rigid, and a cold, unapproachable look stamped on his handsome face.

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