Promise Me Heaven by Connie Brockway

Author:Connie Brockway [Connie Brockway]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781477849088
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 1994-01-30T16:00:00+00:00

“Lord Strand,” Cat answered in reply to Giles’s formal bow.

“Would you care to dance, Lady Cat?”

Lord, he does have pretty manners, thought Cat before saying, “A week ago I would have sent you over to my great-aunt for permission, as we have already been partnered once. But the last time I sent someone to her with a similar petition, she fixed the poor fellow with a glare and said, ‘Why the deuce don’t you ask the gel, you ninny hammered pup!’

“Sir Hale will never recover,” she added sadly. “He didn’t know whether to flush with delight or outrage. He is, after all, but ten years Aunt Hecuba’s junior.”

Strand joined in the laughter of the other bucks and ladies surrounding Cat.

“You are making this up,” a young man protested.

“Just embellishing a bit… Sir Hale is quite fifteen years her junior,” Cat said. A teasing smile curved her lips, a smile that never reached her eyes.

For four months, Cat had dined out on her social triumph. It tasted of ashes. She continued with the charade because she knew no other course to follow. It was still the most direct way to her goal. A goal, Cat reminded herself with increasing frequency, that was still essential in providing for her family.

She could have kicked herself any number of times. She almost asked Fielding to do so last week. Strand had been so close to proposing. With just a small bit of encouragement he would have. But no. The moment his careful, smooth expression took on a serious, intent aspect, she had divined his intent. And, like the fool she was, she had smiled, blinked, tittered, and fled. Idiot!

She didn’t recognize herself. Indeed, everything and everyone she had been so confident she knew seemed to be changing. Even Great-Aunt Hecuba.

A fortnight ago, Cat had gone to fetch Hecuba for the evening’s entertainment. Her great-aunt had come to the door not in her usual endless layers of black bombazine, but in a gown of cerise satin with jet beads embroidering what looked suspiciously like a décolletage. Only the heavy crucifix, half-hidden beneath a layer of lace, told Cat it was Lady Montaigne White and not some impostor. Tonight the crucifix had disappeared altogether. Along with another three inches of bodice.

Cat peered over the shoulder of one of her companions, searching for her great-aunt. By heavens, if Hecuba wasn’t smiling! And her cheeks were rosy with more than the powder Cat had glimpsed her furtively applying with a rabbit’s foot. Hecuba was positively glowing at the wizened old Marquis de Grenville, who had taken to dogging their footsteps.

Giles’s voice recalled her from her speculation. In a trice her forehead smoothed to bland serenity.

“Shall we risk Lady Montaigne White’s considerable ire, and dance?” he asked.

Cat nodded. Placing her hand in Strand’s outstretched one, she moved forward, catching the first movement in the intricate steps of the quadrille. Giles was an accomplished dancer. His trim length perfectly suited the graceful motions. As he bent his dark blond head

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