The Virgin Who Ruined Lord Gray - Anna Bradley Page 0,15
separated forever!’ Tears followed her words, and sinking back, she resigned herself to the stillness of sorrow.” Cecilia, who was reading aloud, gave a dramatic sigh.
“She can’t resign herself yet,” Georgiana objected. “It’s only the first page!”
There was the soft crinkle of paper, then Cecilia’s voice again. “‘He now seized the trembling hand of the girl, who shrunk aghast with terror—”
“Why are they always shrinking?” Georgiana demanded. “I’ve never shrunk aghast in terror in my life.”
“Hush, will you? ‘Shrunk aghast in terror,’” Cecilia repeated in a louder voice. “‘She sunk at his feet, and with supplicating eyes that streamed with tears, implored him to have pity on her.’ My goodness. That does sound promising, doesn’t it?”
“I do like it when their eyes stream with tears,” Emma allowed.
Sophia heard more pages turning, then Cecilia said, “Oh, listen to this! There’s a ruffian, a pistol pointed at someone’s breast, and a scuffle with some banditti coming up. Also, it looks as if Adeline is going to fall dreadfully ill with fever, so that’s something to look forward to.”
“What do you suppose banditti is, precisely?” Emma asked. “Have either of you ever seen banditti?”
“In London?” Georgiana scoffed. “Certainly not. There are no banditti in London, only in Italy.”
Sophia leaned closer to the door. They were reading Mrs. Radcliffe’s The Romance of the Forest, despite the late hour, and in flagrant disobedience of the Society’s rules. She burst through the door with the sternest frown she could muster. “You were meant to wait for me before starting the book! Those are the rules.”
Three pairs of guilty eyes—blue, hazel, and brown—shot toward her.
“All members must agree on a book, all chosen titles are to be read aloud, and no reading shall take place unless all four members of the Society are present.” Sophia ticked the points off on her fingers. “Shame on all of you.”
“We’ve only just dipped into the first chapter a little bit.” Cecilia was sitting on the bed, the book balanced on her knees. Georgiana was by her side, and Emma at her feet.
Sophia raised a brow. “You’re only into the first chapter, and the heroine is already bathed in tears, and resigned to the stillness of sorrow?”
“Yes! Isn’t that wonderful?” Cecilia rubbed her hands together. “I think it’s going to be a very good one.”
“Have any of the virgins swooned yet?” Sophia asked. “Unless the virgins swoon in the first chapter, it won’t be as good as the last book.”
“Well, no, but I believe there’s a ruined abbey.” Emma sounded doubtful. “Surely a ruined abbey is a good sign? There’s usually a ghost or two or a headless corpse when there’s a ruined abbey.”
Sophia shrugged. “Swooning virgins are better. There were loads of swooning virgins in A Sicilian Romance.”
Georgiana gave a derisive snort. “Swooning virgins. What nonsense.”
Sophia and Emma nodded in agreement. All four of them were mad for Gothic romances, but with the exception of Cecilia, who had a heart wider than the Thames, they adored and disdained the heroines in equal measure. Adeline St. Pierre-de Montalt, heroine of The Romance of the Forest, wasn’t likely to be an exception, no matter how engrossing her story. Soon enough they’d find themselves reacting to her with a mixture of breathless anticipation, amusement, and mockery.
Swooning virgins were all very well in romantic novels, but a lady fragile enough to fall into a swoon in London would soon find her pocket picked, her person assaulted, and her limbs crushed under carriage wheels and horses’ hooves. Sophia in particular found it difficult to sympathize with a heroine who was continually either fainting, or bursting into floods of tears.
As for cruel villains and bloody daggers…
Sophia thought of Henry Gerrard, dying in the dirt in St. Clement Dane’s churchyard, and a wave of sorrow washed over her. Blood and murder were only diverting until they became real.
“We did try and wait for you to come, Sophia, but you know Cecilia can’t resist a romance.” Emma cast a reproachful look at Cecilia.
Cecilia bit her lip and turned her big brown eyes on Sophia. “We should have waited. I’m sorry, Sophia.”
No one—not man, woman, god, or mortal—could resist the plea in those soft eyes. “It’s all right. Never mind, dearest.”
“We’ll start again, shall we?” Georgiana bounded off the bed and rushed across the room to seize Sophia in a hug.
Sophia let Georgiana tug her toward the bed and flopped down, joining her three friends in an untidy pile of limbs. Emma twisted a lock of Sophia’s dark hair