The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown by Julia Quinn & Suzanne Enoch & Karen Hawkins & Mia Ryan

Author:Julia Quinn & Suzanne Enoch & Karen Hawkins & Mia Ryan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780061744303
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2003-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

There is so much to report from Lady Shelbourne’s Valentine’s Day ball that This Author scarcely knows where to begin. But do not worry if you were not present (or not invited.) There is no need to feel that one is not au courant when This Author takes such splendid notes.

Ah, Gentle Reader, read on….

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 16 FEBRUARY 1814

The Shelbourne Valentine’s ball exceeded even Meg’s wildest expectations. By ten o’clock, waiting carriages lined the avenue in front of the house for almost a mile. Liza stayed with Meg for a short time in the front hall, issuing orders to servants and doing what she could to help. Of course, Meg was beside herself with excitement, especially since Shelbourne’s cousin Susannah had married the Earl of Renminster earlier that week in a surprising move that had shocked them all.

“Oh Liza,” Meg said for the hundredth time, “the Shelbourne name is set! Not only will it be a horrid squeeze, but I will have the felicity of being the first hostess to introduce Renminster and his new bride!”

“How lovely,” Liza said absently, thankful Royce hadn’t yet appeared. By relying on Lord Durham’s constant presence, she’d successfully avoided Royce since their last “lesson.” Oh, he’d tried to see her, but Liza had thought it best if she maintained a safe distance. Her heart could not take another beating. Besides, she was sure that, in time, Royce would forget all about her. He forgot about all his other “loves.”

The thought was so deflating that Liza had to blink back tears.

“Look, here’s Lord Durham yet again,” Meg said, glancing over her shoulder where the gentleman hovered. “He’s anxious to have you to himself.”

As soon as he caught Meg’s gaze, Durham approached. Dressed with tiresome gallantry in a black coat and a sober brown waistcoat, he bowed over Meg’s hand. “Lady Shelbourne, you look lovely this evening!”

Meg simpered. “So you’ve told me twice now. I begin to think you are flirting with me.”

“I never flirt,” he said somberly. “Especially not with a married woman.”

Meg’s smile disappeared. “Oh. Well. Lord Durham, why don’t you take Liza into the ballroom and try some of the cake? I heard the cake at the Prudhomme ball was somewhat stale, and I was determined that would not be the case here.”

Lord Durham looked inquiringly at Liza. All she wanted to do was go home and sip a cup of tea before her fireplace, confide all her woes to George, and perhaps indulge in a nice, refreshing spate of tears. But she could see that that was not to be.

“Along with you both!” Meg said, shooing them away.

Liza didn’t want to sit, and she didn’t want any cake. But apparently what she wanted was of no moment, for she soon found herself cozily installed in a chair near the refreshment table, a piece of cake before her.

Lord Durham sat beside her, talking of this and that, eventually trailing off into silence. He stared into the distance as if contemplating a weighty matter.

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