Lord Misery by Sydney Jane Baily

Author:Sydney Jane Baily [Baily, Sydney Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Medieval, Romance
Goodreads: 46858834
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2019-08-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Maisie had never felt nervous about seeing Jameson Turner before. Since the previous year, her feelings for him had developed from wanting to help the man to simply wanting him.

And now, she felt a twinge of nerves at the thought of meeting with him, making her skip anything heavy for lunch. Besides, Maggie would undoubtedly set out tea and, at the least, sandwiches. It would be her first meal with him since the dinner party at Belton Manor the previous year. Then, like now, he didn’t know she would be there.

While choosing the ideal gown, wanting to look fetching but also as if she were casual about looking her best, she rehearsed what she would say. Naturally, she would start with an apt quote. Perhaps “hasty marriage seldom proveth well” would illustrate her trepidation, particularly when the haste was entirely created by external forces and not by his overwhelming desire for her.

She decided on a dusky mauve, soft cotton gown with deeper-hued lace trim and gray cloth-covered buttons. She felt stylish in it, neither demure as a debutante, nor too flashy, either. Attractive, it was form-fitting over her curves but not revealing.

Maisie spun in front of her looking glass. Perfect for boosting one’s confidence as long as she didn’t spill anything down herself.

Hours later and unable to think of anything except seeing Jameson, she sat in the parlor, staring at nothing, her gloves and hat already on.

Unfortunately, Ned found her in her contemplative state.

“What are you doing?” he asked bluntly.

What was she doing? Trying to decide whether to graciously accept Jameson’s marriage offer or talk him out of what was plainly a bad idea.

“I’m waiting for Eleanor. We’re going to visit Maggie and have tea.”

He hesitated. “Is Caroline going?”

“No.” Maisie’s stomach started to churn. Was he going to make this most simple outing difficult?

She could make insinuations that Caroline might be off who-knew-where doing who-knew-what to send Ned off on a wild goose chase, but she couldn’t make her brother worry over his own wife.

“She has gone visiting with friends, I believe, though I’m not certain.”

“Shall I accompany you to Lady Cambrey’s?”

He insisted on calling their cousin by her title, which irked everyone. She’d always been plain Maggie before becoming a countess. Maybe Maisie could use it to her advantage.

“I don’t believe it is wise to go uninvited to the Earl and Countess of Cambrey’s home. It could be seen as vulgar.”

“Vulgar!” Ned repeated, flaring his nostrils. “Very well, though I can’t imagine why I would not be welcome amongst my cousins.”

“I’m sure another time you will be.” She heard a carriage draw up outside their modest home and stood up.

“That must be Eleanor.”

Snatching up her lightweight mantle and reticule, she was at the door in a flash. Their manservant, always a few steps behind, missed opening it before she yanked it inward and strode outside. To her dismay, Ned followed her.

One of the Lindsey footman had lowered the folding step and held the carriage door open. Ned came all the way to the barouche to peer under the leather roof.

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