Vying for the Viscount by Kristi Ann Hunter

Author:Kristi Ann Hunter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC027070, FIC042110, Historical Fiction, Love Stories
ISBN: 9781493425181
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2020-05-29T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

If asked a month ago, even a single week ago, if she thought she was an overly particular person, Bianca would have said no. She felt that, generally speaking, she was easy to please.

She never complained when her least favorite foods appeared on the table. Whenever her stepmother summoned her—which hadn’t been often until the past week—she’d gone along without a murmur, at least not one anyone else could hear. If the weather was poor, she didn’t mind donning an oilcloth cape for her walk to Hawksworth.

In fact, the only time she could remember feeling truly put out was when the weather was so bad or her schedule so confining that she didn’t get to go for a ride.

All her experience told her she was an easily pleased woman.

Such was not the case at tonight’s assembly.

She rarely sat out a dance and she enjoyed the activity, so it wasn’t the abundance of dances or even the longer formations necessitated by the crowd that was upsetting her.

No, it was her partners. Even though many were men she’d stood up with countless times before, tonight she found them vexing.

They were too talkative or too quiet, too tall or too short, too plain or too handsome—well, none of them fell into that category, as all the exceptionally handsome men were surrounding Lady Rebecca.

Poor girl. Perhaps she should have just sent Hezekiah in her stead. Wouldn’t that be something? A horse trying to dance the waltz?

She smiled at the thought.

Her smile faded as she saw Mr. Mead moving toward her. The next dance was a waltz. She didn’t want to dance with Mr. Mead, and particularly didn’t want to waltz with him.

Perhaps she should develop a sudden need to visit the retiring room.

Another gentleman appeared at her side before Mr. Mead could reach her. She turned with grateful expectancy, which plummeted as she realized she didn’t know the man.

“Please forgive me if this is an etiquette blunder, but I do believe as it is a public assembly that I may introduce myself?”

Could he? She couldn’t remember ever having been told one way or the other. Then again, she’d grown up in Newmarket and normally knew everyone at these dances already. There was something charming about his demeanor, and he wasn’t Mr. Mead, so she smiled up at him.

“I don’t know, but I promise not to tell anyone if you don’t.”

“It shall be our secret, then. I am Lord Rigsby.”

Other than the mention of this man in the dress shop, she’d never heard of him before. It was likely his title was a courtesy one, but she didn’t want to admit that she was so removed from social gossip that she hadn’t a clue whom he was the heir of. “Miss Snowley.”

He gave her a small bow. “May I have the honor of this dance, Miss Snowley?”

A burst of pleasure warmed her cheeks. This man had sought her out specifically to ask her to dance. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Perhaps she could actually find another man to marry.

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