Miss Carlyle's Curricle by Karen Harbaugh

Author:Karen Harbaugh [Harbaugh, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, C429, Extratorrents, Kat
ISBN: 9781101567500
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Lady Jardien’s drawing room glowed with many candles, and a warm fire burned in the fireplace not far from where the musicians played. Diana had always liked her hostess, for she was a shrewd and practical lady, although Diana knew that the lady did not, quite, approve of her. It had not mattered much before, but now, somehow, it did, perhaps because she felt so much like a fish out of water.

Diana stepped further into the room behind Lord Brisbane and her mother, as was proper, and looked about her at the flowers on the mantelpiece, at the way the draperies were tastefully pulled aside with gold bands. Lovely, and she wished she did not feel so unsettled so that she could enjoy the decorations.

Soon the earl and Mrs. Carlyle parted, and Diana came forward, and though she had been in Lady Jardien’s drawing room before, and had met all the people in it, she felt, suddenly, as if she were a stranger.

All eyes had looked toward the door when the earl’s name was announced, and all eyes were upon him, filled with curiosity. But then their gazes shifted, and widened, and the curiosity became rampant as Diana came out from behind him. She could see the attention grow, and she wanted to shrink behind him again.

It was too late, however; her mother had stepped ahead, and he had turned toward her and taken her hand, drawing her forward. Lord Brisbane gazed at her, and there was a challenge in his look; coward it said. A light irritation flashed through her and she lifted her chin in answer. She hated having people look at her, but at least she would pretend she did not care.

It was difficult: there was Johnny Ramsworth, who had teased her when she first came to Brisbane House, calling her a long Meg, and whom she had avoided ever since. He glanced at her, then glanced again, then was rooted to the spot as he stared. There was Mary Colesby, who had snubbed her at her coming-out party; her eyes widened upon catching sight of Diana, and a look of chagrin crossed her face. Diana winced. Mary Colesby’s chagrin was no better than her snubs; Mary would not be her friend either way. And then there was Mr. Desmond Jardien, Lady Jardien’s son, who fancied himself a rake and who had ignored Diana for as long as she could remember—until now. He looked up from talking to his fair companion, rested his eyes upon Diana, and a sudden light appeared in his eyes, and a slow smile formed on his lips.

An impatient sigh came from just the other side of her; Diana turned to see Lady Jardien gazing at her son disapprovingly. “The so-called Corsair. Idiot,” she heard her mutter. “I would give half my hydrangeas if Lord Byron’s works were never published.” The lady turned her frank gaze to Diana. “Ignore him, Miss Carlyle. He will grow out of his infatuation with himself—I hope.”

Immediately Diana felt a little better; Lady Jardien did not, it seemed, disapprove of her, but her son.

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