Never A Lady by Barbara Dawson Smith

Author:Barbara Dawson Smith
Language: ron
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Adam was bored.

He had never been fond of sipping a thimbleful of tea from a dainty china cup, of nibbling rich pastries while exchanging inane pleasantries. Today, the custom was all the more annoying. Especially when the conversation turned to gossip.

"I heard the most fascinating tidbit at the milliner's this morning," said his sister. "I could scarcely believe my ears."

Dressed in a pink gown decorated by ice-blue ribbons', Sophy looked rather like one of the confections on the tea cart. Not even Cyril's grave condition had dampened her spirits. Animation flushed her rounded cheeks. Like a queen holding court, she regarded her mother, Lord Harry Dashwood, Lady Camilla Crockford, and Lady Camilla's mother, the marchioness of Amberly.

"I am fairly trembling with curiosity," Harry drawled from the Sheridan chair beside hers. "If you keep us waiting any longer, I may expire from the suspense."

Sophy flashed him a withering look that had no effect on his insolent grin. Turning her wide-eyed innocence on the others, she said, "At the Stanhopes' ball last night, Mr. Jacob Pennington danced three times with Miss Layshire. People are whispering that he is about to make an offer for her. Is that not delicious?"

"Stuff and nonsense," Lady Amberly said, her thin nostrils flaring in a narrow, foxy face. "How could such a man aspire to the daughter of a viscount? He is a cit, a mere tradesman."

"Yet a very rich one," Lady Camilla added in a stately, modulated voice. "He made his fortune in coal, I believe."

"Humph." Her mother set her teacup into its saucer. "A merchant who feeds our fires attending the same parties as his customers. What is this world coming to?"

"We should wish Miss Layshire well, Mother. Not every lady is so fortunate in suitors as I am."

Lady Camilla lifted her Goddess of Winter gaze and graced Adam with a cool smile. Sitting beside her on the . gold chaise, he knew he should appreciate her sloe-eyed loveliness, the rich dark hair that set off her milky complexion, the dainty figure in a gown of pale green muslin. Less than a week ago, he would have welcomed her attentiveness. But that was before he had met an exasperating reformer who valued a man's character more than his class.

He could well imagine how Camilla would look down her noble nose at Mary. Thank God the two women would never have occasion to meet.

"It seems your beauty has St. Chaldon tongue-tied," Harry said, lifting his quizzing glass to peer at her.

"No doubt he considers himself the fortunate one, for you are a camellia in a garden of weeds."

Camilla granted him a small smile.

Sophy shot him a black look.

His eyes gleamed. "Present company excepted, of course."

"You must forgive my son his preoccupation," the duchess told Camilla. "He has much on his mind these days."

"But not so much that I cannot enjoy the company of a lovely lady." Adam forced himself to smile at the woman beside him. "Mother is right. I most humbly beg your pardon.

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