Dance With a Deverell by Fresina Jayne

Author:Fresina, Jayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted E-Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The hoop rolled into the back of his legs as he stood in the park with two ladies whose names he could not recall, and whose faces were only just pricking his memory.

“Children should be under lock and key,” one of them remarked with a toss of her dark curls. “They have quite ruined this peaceful park.”

“At the very least, they should be kept in reins,” said the other. “And only permitted entry at certain hours of the day.”

Ram turned to retrieve the fallen hoop and saw, running toward him, a red-haired cannon ball in a straw bonnet and a lavender and white lace dress.

He heard a voice shout, “Lady Emilia, do be careful! Come back here, at once!”

The child paid that command no attention and ran right up to him, hands outstretched. “That’s my hoop, sir,” she exclaimed, breathless and pink-faced. “May I have it back? Are you much bruised? It does so get away from me, but it is new and I am just learning.” She squinted up at him. “You’re very tall and extremely pretty. I’m Emilia, and I’m nine, but very well advanced for my age. How d’you do?” She held out her hand as if he should kiss it.

He heard one of his companions mutter, “Ugh! What a dreadful, precocious brat. Does nobody have charge of her?”

But he smiled down at the little girl. “How d’you do? No, I do not believe I am too badly bruised. Merely—” He had looked up and saw a woman coming toward them. “Startled.” He thought he had ceased to breathe. The noise of the park faded away.

She was no longer in the matte black paramatta of mourning, but wore a pale violet silk gown trimmed with ivory lace, beneath a short coat of grey, which was fastened at the front with little buttons and finished at her throat with a cameo brooch. Her stunning hair— today the color of late summer afternoon sun through a glass of cider— was half-way contained under a small, grey cap with a short net veil. A good portion of curly locks, however, spilled over her shoulder, in one of those typically artful arrangements that just might have been a happy accident, but was most likely planned to the tiniest swirl. Females were remarkably cunning about such things.

Of course, it was more than two years now since her husband’s death and so only natural that she should be out in society again.

Ram pulled himself together swiftly, straightened up, heels together, and gave a quick bow. “Countess. How…pleasant… to see you again. Looking so well.” An understatement.

The sun seemed to come out brighter at that moment, as she looked at him and smiled. “Lieutenant Deverell, is it not? I must apologize for my daughter’s reckless wielding of a hoop.”

“No harm done,” he murmured, passing the hoop to the child. “This time.”

A short, stout figure could now came hurrying toward them, puffing, panting and pushing her way through the crowd of strolling couples.

“Ah, here comes Nanny,” said Ainslie in a tone that was part relief, part warning.

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