Salt Bride: A Georgian Historical Romance by Lucinda Brant

Author:Lucinda Brant
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: 1700, noble, seventeen, 17th, roxton, romp, century, eighteen, eighteenth, hundreds, regency, georgianromance, 18th, lusinda, heyer, 1700s, hundred, seventeenth, georgette, brandt
Publisher: Lucinda Brant
Published: 2012-05-14T15:41:49+00:00

Diana St. John kept her distance from her noble cousin for most of the Richmond Ball while he remained by his wife’s side. She flitted from group to group seemingly oblivious to the Earl’s existence, which, friend and foe alike agreed, was most uncharacteristic. It was universally expected that at Society functions Lady St. John remained only one person removed from the Earl of Salt Hendon at all times. No one knew if he noticed her always in his orbit, or not. For the most part he seemed to treat her as if she was part of his shadow and got on with his life. Everyone wondered if she would remain part of his shadow now he had a bride, more beautiful and much younger than the handsome statuesque Lady St. John.

Resplendent in a Venetian red and gold sack back gown with three tiers of lace cascading from elbows to plump wrists, Diana St. John spent the entire time the Earl and Countess of Salt Hendon danced the minuet with her back to the dancers in conversation with the Italian Ambassador who kept his gaze leveled at her breasts, which were magnificently displayed in a low square cut bodice, a string of rubies and diamonds nestled in her cleavage. A confection of powdered curls, a gouache painted fan, and her distinct perfume were the finishing touches to her resplendent ensemble. She laughed, she chatted, and she was witty and full of life, so much so that more than a few guests commented on her high spirits. The only person to see through the façade was her brother.

Sir Antony had been bailed up by his sister in an anteroom off the main vestibule as soon as his well-shod foot touched the marble parquetry inside Richmond House, she demanding to know why she had not been invited to share the carriage ride with he and Lord Salt. Sir Antony suffered in silence her barrage of abuse. She was furious to be informed that the Earl had brought his wife to the Richmond Ball. To argue that their noble cousin had every right to bring his wife was pointless, so Sir Antony kept his opinions and his arguments to himself.

He never won with Diana, and he had long given up trying. He wasn’t by nature a coward, nor was he lazy, but he had learned from an early age that his elder sister had the ability to take a point of view and twist it to suit her own ends. It didn’t matter if her opponent had right on his side, by the time Diana had finished arguing, her opponent came round to her way of thinking, even if it was through sheer exhaustion and a need to escape her constant onslaught. Ethical considerations of right and wrong never entered her mind. It only mattered that she got her way. The only time Sir Antony ever saw her back down from a stubborn belief, indeed concede defeat in an argument, was with the

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