Rescued From Ruin by Georgie Lee - Rescued From Ruin

Author:Georgie Lee - Rescued From Ruin [Lee, Georgie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460329108
Amazon: B00FTQUQ5O
Barnesnoble: B00FTQUQ5O
Goodreads: 21405475
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Cecelia poked at her meagre breakfast, spreading the last of her eggs around the plate with a fork, her plain toast and sugarless tea forgotten on the table beside her. ‘I hope you enjoyed the cakes at Lady Featherstone’s dinner last night, we can’t afford such delicacies at home.’

‘I can’t dream of food.’ Theresa threw out her arms with a theatrical sigh. ‘Not when I have love.’

‘Think of the money we’ll save.’ Cecelia rolled her eyes, wishing she could greet the morning with such excitement. Despite the relief of finally widening their circle of acquaintances, it wasn’t enough to dampen the impact of the new bills delivered this morning. Not even Mr Menton’s continued attention to Theresa during the past week had been enough to take Cecelia’s mind off her worries, or Randall. She touched the pendant beneath her dress, disappointed at not having heard from or seen him since the ball. At every dinner and gathering over the past few days, she’d searched for him, disappointed by his absence and all the while convincing herself it was for the best. His influence in the arrival of so many new invitations was unmistakable and troubling. The more he helped her, the stronger his friendship became, weakening her determination to keep him at arm’s length.

The sound of a carriage on the street outside echoed through the room and Cecelia looked up from her tepid tea. ‘Who can that be? I thought Mr Menton left for the country this morning.’

‘He did. It seems there is some social obligation his mother needs him to attend and he won’t be back for a week.’ She picked up the small stack of invitations beside her plate. ‘How am I going to face all these soirées without him?’

‘You’ll find a way to manage.’ Cecelia chuckled, trying to hide her own disappointment. The Season was slipping away fast enough without them wasting too much time on one young man who might forget Theresa the moment he left town.

The front doorknocker thumped and Theresa went to the window to look outside. ‘Oh, my goodness, Lord Falconbridge is at the door.’

Cecelia stopped midsip of her tea. She set the cup down, nearly tipping both it and the saucer before steadying them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mary hurry by to answer the door. Cecelia rose and brushed the crumbs off her dress, then stepped up to the mirror over the mantel and smoothed her hair.

‘You seem eager to greet him,’ Theresa teased.

Cecelia settled her shoulders and faced her cousin. ‘Of course. I must thank him for the introduction to Mr Menton.’

‘Of course.’ Theresa nodded with a wry grin.

The front door creaked open, followed by a strange scratching on the wood. Then a large black dog with a greying muzzle dashed into the room and straight at Cecelia. She backed up, her shoulder catching the marble mantel as the animal rose up on its back legs, placed his paws on her stomach and revealed the band of white fur beneath his neck.

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