Lord Dearborn's Destiny by Brenda Hiatt

Author:Brenda Hiatt [Hiatt, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical Fiction, regency romance, to-read, Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780373311910
Google: 8ncr-EEl0rQC
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 6428832
Publisher: Brenda Hiatt
Published: 1992-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER 11

AUNT MABEL had been right, thought Ellie, alone in her room a short time later. She should never have put herself forward so. Why, any observer could be forgiven for assuming that she was trying to supplant Rosalind in the Earl's affections —or at least in his mother's affections —as Aunt Mabel most assuredly must.

And was she, she wondered? Could she truly be so despicable as to deliberately try to ruin dear Rosalind's best chance at a happy marriage? She devoutly hoped not.

She had tried to make her cousin appear in a more favourable light to Lady Dearborn, and indeed, what she had said about Rosalind's embroidery was perfectly true. Somehow, though, whenever she tried to help, her efforts seemed to backfire and draw that much more attention on herself. She could not be completely sorry for helping that poor cat, of course, and she knew that the Countess had been sincerely grateful, but Lord Dearborn had seemed more amused than anything else. What had he meant by agreeing with his mother that they should "keep her with them?"

Had Rosalind perhaps suggested to him that she stay on as her companion after their marriage? As much as Ellie loved Huntington Park, the cats and even the Countess, she knew she could never bear that. No, when the Earl had looked down at her with an almost tender smile in his eyes, she had realized once and for all that she could never regard him merely as a friend. And where did that leave her? Sighing, she seated herself at the pretty pink and gold dressing table to tidy her hair before nuncheon.

It was a pity that none of her especial admirers had been invited to the house party, she supposed, although the idea of marrying any one of them did not much appeal to her, particularly now. Still, what else was there? Timothy Willoughby had shown her some attention, she thought dispiritedly. Perhaps she ought to encourage him. Of course, that would still mean living in the neighbourhood of Huntington Park, if not on the estate itself.

"You're being a very poor sort of cousin," she told her reflection aloud. "You should be focusing your energy on ensuring Rosalind's happiness, not on your own wretched future! There will be time enough for that later." A sudden vision of the empty years stretching ahead almost made her quail, but she straightened her back and raised her chin defiantly. "Perhaps I could induce Lord Dearborn to fall in love with me— though I doubt it," she said to the image in the glass. "But I would hate myself forever for it. Whoever else may share my future, I shall always have to live with myself!"

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