A Rogues Embrace by Margaret Moore

Author:Margaret Moore
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Medieval
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“Ah, Lady Dovercourt! How lovely you look this evening,” Mr. Sedgemore cried as he hurried toward them in the grand entrance hall of his country home.

Like the late William Longbourne, Alfred Sedgemore had razed the original manor on his estate. Mr. Sedgemore had done an even more thorough job of this, however, for he had torn down the whole of the house and built afresh. The result was a country home of the latest design, featuring pediments and columns and massive chimneys on the outside and impressively decorated rooms on the inside.

“Your servant, my lord,” Mr. Sedgemore said to Richard as he bowed.

“Your servant, sir,” Richard replied evenly, inclining in his head.

Despite the smile on her husband’s face, she was very much reminded of his arrogant attitude the first time she had seen him in that boat on the Thames.

Confused by his manner, she said nothing as he placed her hand on his arm. Together they followed their host into the huge parlor paneled in dark oak and hung with various portraits of what she assumed were Sedgemore ancestors, all of whom looked as if they suffered from chronic indigestion.

Apparently Mr. Sedgemore had invited every person who had any claim to gentility for several miles around. Despite the crowd, conversation halted in midsentence as they entered, and everyone turned to look at them.

Elissa had believed her arrival at her wedding would be her one and only sensational entrance. She was quite wrong. Apparently, however, Richard did not find this at all unusual, for he bestowed a magnanimous smile upon them all.

Nevertheless, she knew something was very wrong.

It was not that the women stared at Richard as if they had never seen a man before. Clad in his black velvet jacket and breeches, pristine white shirt, and lace jabot, Richard looked very handsome and elegant and worldly compared to most of the men of Leicester. He also had the aura of the court to add to his luster.

In contrast to the feminine admiration, however, many of the men’s reactions were openly hostile and obviously scornful rather than envious, a reaction she would have understood. To be sure, a few of the ones she knew to be ambitious regarded him speculatively, as if already planning on seeking his influence at court, but in general, it was as if Richard had returned from London a leper.

She told herself most of these men would look down on anybody who had to earn their living by any means other than agriculture, and especially anybody in the theater.

Despite her attempt at rationalization, Elissa couldn’t help feeling that there was more to their reactions than the snobbery of the righteous.

Appalled and confused, she glanced at Richard—and could scarcely believe the calm equanimity on his face, the merry mockery in his eyes, and the wry twist to his lips. That he might find the women’s responses amusing was one thing, but how could he laugh at the men’s?

“As I live and breathe, it’s Sir John Norbert!” Richard

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