Mrs. Sommersby's Second Chance by Laurie Benson

Author:Laurie Benson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-05-06T17:38:36+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

‘It does my heart good to see her dancing,’ the Dowager said, taking Mr Lane’s seat beside Clara. ‘I spent some time with her—unfortunately, I was summoned into the card room to settle a debate between two old men with poor memories and couldn’t have her remain by my side. That was kind of you to suggest that he ask her.’

‘But I didn’t. That was all his idea. I was going to suggest that we ask her to join us, but he left before I had the opportunity.’

The two women sat in silence as they watched Mr Lane and Harriet on the dance floor. His movements for the most part were smooth and measured. He had a presence about him, brought on by his perfect posture and the raised angle of his chin. It wasn’t too high to indicate a sense of superiority, but it was high enough to say he wouldn’t back down from a challenge. He was a fairly tall man. If she had to guess she would say he was about six foot, which, considering she was only five foot four, meant that there was a comfortable height difference between them and Clara didn’t have to strain her neck too much when she was looking up at him. His athletic frame and broad shoulders were shown to his advantage in the cut of his well-made clothing. And through his white stockings she could see a pair of very nice, very defined calf muscles.

‘He does seem to be concentrating quite a bit,’ the Dowager observed in a low voice.

‘I wonder what she is saying that he finds so interesting?’

‘Perhaps she is talking about you.’

Clara eyed her friend. ‘I don’t know why he would find anything about me interesting? I am much too old for him.’

‘I doubt Mr Lane feels you are. The two of you have a way when you are together. One gets the sense that in a room full of people, the two of you feel as though you are all alone.’

‘What does that even mean?’

‘It means that I have watched you at the theatre and tonight sitting here on the benches. You have some type of connection to one another. It’s not something I see frequently. It’s not something one can manufacture. It comes from somewhere in the soul.’

‘Eleanor, have you been reading poetry again?’

The Dowager waved her gloved hand at Clara and the diamonds in her bracelet sparkled. ‘That does not signify. I know what I see. I have been at this far too long to miss something as blatant as this.’

‘And what is it that you have been at?’

‘Why, matchmaking.’

‘We are not a match. I am old enough to be his...young aunt.’

‘Has it escaped your notice that I am the champion of unlikely matches? Just look at my grandson and his American wife. No other duke had ever married an American before. There was quite a to-do about his interest in her at the time. He knew there would be many things he would have to sacrifice if he married her.

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