Morgan and Archer by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2013-11-04T18:30:00+00:00

Four

“You and Mr. Portmaine make a lovely couple. Have you saved him a dance this evening?”

Ellen Windham’s question held no guile, of that Morgan was certain. Morgan stood beside Ellen at the edge of the Winterthur ballroom, watching as Archer turned Maggie Windham, now Maggie Portmaine, Countess of Hazelton, down the room.

“He’s a good dancer.” A good dancer and an excellent listener.

“Are you considering his prospects, Morgan? I suspect he could keep you well enough.”

Longing shot through Morgan, followed by a sharp pang of regret. “He’s a gentleman without family to speak of, other than Hazelton. I doubt he’s all that well set up.” Not that his lack of wealth would matter.

Ellen turned to regard Morgan with a look that, oddly enough, reminded Morgan of Valentine Windham in the mood to Get to the Bottom of Something. “You should talk to Maggie about her cousin-in-law, or better still, talk to Hazelton about his cousin. I have no doubt Mayfair’s best families pay dearly to have their little troubles dealt with quietly.”

They probably did, and Archer was always turned out perfectly, complete with jeweled cravat pins and gold shirt studs and cuff links. He even smelled of excellent, expensive tastes.

“His prospects are not the problem.” The music came to a close, and Archer bowed gracefully over Maggie’s hand. “I am not inclined to marry, and no, lest you even think it for a moment, I am not pining for your husband.”

“I know you are not.”

“You do?”

Ellen was smiling, and not unkindly. “Valentine has been over in the corner for the entire set, letting Lady Winterthur pester him about taking a turn at the piano for her guests, and you haven’t looked his way once.”

“The hostesses always pester him. I think he half enjoys it.”

“I quite agree, but the point is, you haven’t taken your eyes off Mr. Portmaine.”

Morgan took her eyes off Archer long enough to stare at Ellen. “I’m not looking at him now, am I?”

“Why not encourage his suit, Morgan? He’s comely, a gentleman despite his investigations, and connected with the Windham family. Moreover, I think he’s smitten with you. You could do much worse.”

Sometimes, it was a mercy to be able to pretend not to hear well. “Shall we get some punch? It’s quite warm in here.”

They made their way toward the refreshments, and just as Morgan was about to accept a cup of sangria from a Winterthur footman, she caught a whiff of cedar and spices.

“Good evening, my lady, Miss James.” Archer bowed very correctly, beaming what Morgan termed his Ballroom Bachelor Smile at her and Ellen both. “If your next dance is not spoken for, Miss James, would you do me the honor of a turn on the terrace? My need for fresh air grows pressing.”

“Do, Morgan. I have it on good authority you spend too much time in stuffy, noisy ballrooms.” Ellen took the cup of sangria when Morgan might have reached for it.

“From whom do you hear such things, Ellen?” Morgan asked.

“His Grace, among others.

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