Two in the Bush: the Branwell Chronicles, #1 by Judith Hale Everett

Author:Judith Hale Everett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency romance
Publisher: Evershire Publishing
Published: 2021-02-17T00:00:00+00:00

Thoroughly sobered by her mother’s warning, Lenora rivaled even Sir Joshua’s gravity for the next few days, but it was not to be expected that her spirits should be dampened long, especially as the season was still in full swing, and there were so many parties and outings to be had. To Mrs. Breckinridge’s great relief, Lenora continued to submit meekly to the careful vetting of her invitations, in greater part because there were few that met with prohibition, as Lord Montrose, happily, did not move with the younger set.

Lenora did not find anything unaccountable in Tom’s extending his stay another fortnight, for though some of his motives were quite otherwise than she supposed, Tom’s obvious enjoyment of Miss Marshall’s attractions was reason enough for her to believe his stay was entirely a matter of self-indulgence. Indeed, she blithely assumed Lady Wraglain’s ball, which augured well to be quite a squeeze, and happened to fall within his extended time, to be the chief excuse for his stay, and he did not deny it, having ascertained that Lord Montrose would not be invited, but that the Marshalls had been.

The ballroom at Wraglain House was bedecked with flowers, a fact which gratified Lady Cammerby into fond and vocal remembrances of her ball, which must of course have been the inspiration. In response to this, Lady Wraglain merely expressed to Mrs. Breckinridge her wish that the next ton ball would usher in a new kick of fashion in ballroom decoration so as to allay her overwhelming desire to depress some persons’ pretensions.

Brought into the ballroom on Tom’s arm, Lenora was quickly discovered by a young dandy, who had made her acquaintance fairly recently, and who begged her hand for the first set. Tom, eyeing the height of the young gentleman’s shirt points sternly, bade fair to dampen the entire evening by suggesting that sprigs of fashion were notorious for loose morals. But when Lenora twitted him on being a bulldog, he couldn’t help but laugh, and spoiled the effect of his speech. Lenora left him quite contentedly, but Tom knew his duty, so, leading a young lady into the same set, kept an eye on his sister, to the end that Lenora took him aside after the dance.

“What do you mean by following me, Tom?”

“I’m not following you,” he said, all innocence.

Her eyes narrowed. “Did Mama set you to watch me?”

“I don’t know what you can mean, Nora,” he said, twitching his cuffs with studied nonchalance.

She eyed him in annoyance. “She’d not the least need to set you to watching me, as she has already counted this ball as safe, for she knows there will be no evil Dukes present.”

He stared at her. “Evil Dukes?”

She laughed. “You know, from the novels. The villain who will stop at nothing to claim the heroine as his own.”

He snorted. “Lord Montrose is no Duke. Though he is evil.”

“Precisely, and he was not invited, as Mama particularly discovered, so you may be at ease.”

“Lord Montrose isn’t the only Bad Man, Lenora.

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