One Snowy Night by Grange Amanda

Author:Grange, Amanda [Grange, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-04-19T07:00:00+00:00

Miss Serena Quentin’s beautiful face wore a scowl as she sat before her dressing table whilst her maid unpinned her hair. The evening had not been a success. Bored of the young men who habitually frequented Manchester’s social gatherings she had turned her attention to the harshly attractive Joshua Kelling, only to have him dismiss her as casually as if she had been an elderly dowager, instead of worshipping her as the beautiful and alluring young woman she was. It was bad enough that he had walked away from her - Serena walked away from gentlemen, they never walked away from her - but the fact that he had been seen doing so by Miss Lavinia Madely had made it a hundred times worse.

Serena’s scowl deepened as she thought of Lavinia Madely, her only serious challenger for the position of Manchester’s greatest beauty. The two had been rivals ever since they had come out. Lavinia’s flaxen hair contrasted with the beauty of Serena’s guinea-gold curls. Each had their own court of admirers, but Mr Kelling did not seem to want to belong to either set.

"You’re losing your touch," Lavinia had smirked when Joshua had walked away from her.

To which she had replied, seriously angry, "I can soon bring him to heel."

Lavinia had lifted one beautifully arched eyebrow. "A wager?" she had asked. "To make it more interesting. Ten guineas declares you cannot bring him to propose."

Fired up by Lavinia’s taunting, Serena had accepted. And she had done it with style! "Ten guineas?" she had asked disdainfully. "It’s hardly worth my while. Let’s make it twenty."

On which sum they had agreed.

Twenty guineas if Mr Kelling proposed.

And humiliation if he did not.

It would have been a rash wager, even for Serena, if not for one thing.

Dismissing her maid she crossed to her escritoire and took out a folder in which she kept her correspondence. Her female correspondence, that was. Her letters from gentlemen were kept in quite a separate place. But her innocent letters, from relatives and the like, were kept in plain view. She took out a recent missive from her cousin and, climbing into bed, read it through again.

The letter had been sent from London, where her cousin Sarah was staying with an aunt. Serena, too, had been invited, but she did not like London out of Season, and so she had refused. But Sarah’s letter had made interesting reading. Especially the bit about Lady Cranston’s ball.

Serena found the right page and read it through.

You’ll never guess who I saw last night, at Lady Cranston’s’ ball. Mr Kelling! Though what he is doing in London I don’t know. I thought he was still in Manchester, running Marsden mill. He is looking more devilishly handsome than ever. But that is not what I want to tell you. Miss Foster is here too! And what do you think? I just happened to be passing the door of the morning-room, quite by chance —

Sneaked out of the ballroom after Mr Kelling, and put her ear to the keyhole more likely, thought Serena spitefully.

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