Her Secret Beau by Leenie Brown

Author:Leenie Brown [Brown, Leenie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leenie B Books

Chapter 13

“You make a charming couple,” Mrs. Love whispered.

Grace sighed. There were many interesting places where her mother could see and be seen and hear any number of tantalizing tales, but instead of choosing one of those places to be, her mother had decided that the empty seat beside Grace was the perfect place to sit while Felicity danced.

“Have we any happy news?” Grace completely ignored her mother’s comment about Mr. Blakesley, who had just danced the first set with Grace, and attempted to steer the conversation in a better direction.

Mrs. Love clucked her tongue. “Not yet, and I cannot imagine what is keeping him from coming to the point.”

“He knows about Mr. Everett Clayton, you know,” Grace ducked her head close to her mother’s ear. “Perhaps he is just being cautious?”

“How can he doubt her regard? Look at her.” Mrs. Love motioned toward the floor with her fan. “She is smitten, simply smitten. Can you not see it in how she looks at him?”

Grace squinted her eyes and studied, really studied, her older sister but to no avail. She had seen Felicity look at Mr. Everett Clayton in that same way.

“One does not look so at a suitor unless one is hoping for an offer,” Mrs. Love added.

One did if one was Felicity. No, that was not entirely true, Grace corrected. Her sister had wished for an offer from Mr. Everett Clayton until she had found something more to her liking.

“How do you know it is not just an act?”

“An act?” her mother repeated in surprise.

“Need I remind you that Felicity was smitten at Heathcote and remained so until the second day of the Abernathy’s house party when Mr. Ramsey spoke to her.”

The statement was met with a great exhalation of breath from Mrs. Love. “A mother knows,” she answered.

Grace schooled her eyebrows to remain immobile rather than arching skeptically as they wished to do. “How precisely does a mother know?”

“I am certain I cannot distill it, but there is feeling.” She laid her hand on her heart. “Your sister is more attached this time. I just know she is. There was a hesitance about Mr. Everett Clayton. I never once saw her smile wistfully while stitching as if she was thinking of Mr. Everett Clayton, but she does now. And when I asked her about it just yesterday, she sighed and said, ‘Is he not the most perfect gentleman?’”

Grace was not completely convinced, but she was willing, upon hearing such a story, to allow that it might be possible for her sister to be, at long last, irrevocably attached to a gentleman. However, for herself, she would only be satisfied when she saw Felicity standing at the altar repeating her vows.

“I dare say you would not say Mr. Ramsey is the perfect gentleman.”

Grace looked at her mother in feigned astonishment. “How do you mean?”

“Oh, come now, Grace. I would venture that Mr. Blakesley is a trifle more perfect in your estimation. You were looking very content to be dancing with him.

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