Wicked Fantasy by Nicole Jordan

Author:Nicole Jordan [Jordan, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780345467867
Google: Y9mU4H2N1wcC
Amazon: 0345467868
Barnesnoble: 0345467868
Goodreads: 1196740
Publisher: Fawcett
Published: 2005-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

The local gentry proved eager to welcome Antonia into their midst, for the appearance of a London heiress in their quiet corner of the world was exciting news.

At first Antonia feared she might be imposing on the countess, but Lady Isabella professed delight for her company and the chance to introduce a new guest to society, promising a round of assemblies and suppers and balls to rival the ton’s. They engaged a modiste from Falmouth to quickly make up a ball gown and several dinner gowns. And when Miss Tottle arrived from London two days later with a trunkful of Antonia’s clothing, she was better prepared to play the role of visiting debutante.

Antonia was surprisingly glad to see her companion, not only because Mildred’s face was a dear one, but because her familiar, flighty demeanor was so agreeably normal after the unsettling events of this past week, when murder and betrayal had turned her life upside down.

Since Antonia chose not to share her dark suspicions about her betrothed’s perfidy, Miss Tottle did not understand the urgency of leaving London during the height of the Season, although she accepted Antonia’s claim of visiting an ill friend. Fortunately, the countess’s sister-in-law, Clara, Lady Kenard, who was very swollen with child, had willingly agreed to participate in the ruse. By the time Miss Tottle met her, Lady Kenard had “recovered” from death’s door and was able to receive callers.

The three ladies spent a good deal of time with Clara and also paid daily calls on the countess’s other genteel neighbors. Admittedly, Isabella’s grandiose plans did help distract Antonia from her restlessness, but they could not make her forget the grim reason she was even in Cornwall, nor keep her from remembering the unexpected passion she had experienced at Deverill’s hands during the voyage.

Of Deverill, she saw nothing until the fourth evening, when Isabella held a dinner at the castle in her honor. Absurdly, Antonia found herself scanning the doorway each time a new guest entered the drawing room. When Deverill finally strolled in, accompanied by Sir Crispin Kenard, Antonia’s heartbeat took up a rapid rhythm. Deverill looked incredibly handsome with his tall, powerful figure molded by formal evening attire—blue coat, pristine white cravat, silver embroidered waistcoat, white satin breeches and stockings, and silver-buckled shoes.

Yet when his eyes met hers across the crowded drawing room and he gave her a small bow of acknowledgment, her heart sank. His gaze was cool, dispassionate, with none of the burning fervor he’d shown when he’d sought to overcome her resistance to his marriage offer. Antonia knew she should be grateful that Deverill apparently meant to respect her wishes and accept her refusal, yet perversely, all she could feel was disappointment that he was no longer pursuing her.

She was not even afforded the chance to greet him then, for Lady Isabella spied Deverill and immediately monopolized his attention, taking his arm and steering him around the drawing room to introduce him. His reputation preceded him, Antonia was aware, since Sir Crispin had been singing his praises for the past several days.

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