Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,15
for her backbone. Heartbreak did give one a spine of steel, but her heart had not mended properly. The most important piece was missing—the one that still believed in true love.
She sighed.
“Girls!” Mama shrilled again. “Your father is becoming impatient.”
Guinevere scoffed. That was an untruth if ever there was one. Papa tolerated balls for Mama’s sake. Guinevere slipped on her shoes, rose to her feet, and the three of them stood there for a moment, Guinevere’s secrets unspoken and swirling between them. She had once been completely in love with Asher. Perhaps it had been a young, foolish love, and surely it had been one-sided love, but it had been love for her part.
Vivian surprised Guinevere by taking her hand and squeezing it. “If I’m near Carrington tonight, I’m going to elbow him sharply in the ribs.”
Guinevere grinned at her sister. “He’s not worth it, dearest.”
It wasn’t lost on her that she’d not always thought that. Why, she had ridiculously believed for a full sennight after his betrothal was announced that it had somehow all been a horrible mistake. She had kept telling herself he would not do that to her, and Elizabeth would not do that to her. They both had done exactly that to her.
“Were you terribly shaken to see him, Guinnie?” Frederica asked as they moved toward the door.
“Not terribly,” Guinevere said, willing it to be so.
“What will you do if you encounter him at tonight’s ball?” Vivian asked.
They departed Guinevere’s bedchamber, Guinevere and Vivian heading toward the stairs and Frederica giving them a wave as she moved toward her bedchamber.
“I’ll not even give him a second glance,” Guinevere said more to herself than Vivian. “Why would I? He is not important to me, and I must turn my sights tonight to intervening in Lord Charolton’s plot to compromise Lady Constantine Colgate for her dowry. Not to mention, I need to find a man I can tolerate as a husband. I’ll be far too busy to notice the Duke of Carrington, even if he stood on his head in front of me.”
Chapter Four
“Who is our target tonight?” Lilias asked as Guinevere peeked through the cluster of potted plants they strategically stood behind.
“Do you not remember?” Guinevere growled, then bit her lip at her irritability.
“My, you’re in a particularly sour mood. Could it be your encounter with your old inamorato?”
“You know perfectly well that Carrington was never my lover.” Guinevere tugged at her dress, which did nothing to aid her plight. She could not take a proper breath!
“I know, but if your life was more like one of the Gothic novels I read, he would have been,” Lilias said with a dreamy note to her voice.
“Lilias Honeyfield, if people knew who you truly were, they would be shocked.” Guinevere settled her gaze on her friend, who once again was wearing hideous spectacles she did not even need. “You look like a most severe governess,” she said with a shake of her head.
She swept a look over Lilias. Her lovely blond hair was pulled back in a bun so tight that it tugged her naturally round eyes into more of a catlike shape. And her gown! It was the worst one yet.
“I cannot believe your mother let you come to tonight’s ball in that gown,” Guinevere said, taking in the brown, high-necked, and unforgiving silk. “That color does not complement you, my dear.”
“I know,” Lilias replied with a grin. “And Mother is in Bath taking a restorative cure. She’s had another dark mood come over her.”
“Another one?” Guinevere asked, pity for her friend rising in her. Ever since Lilias’s father had passed away seven years ago, Lilia’s mother had changed greatly from the woman who had been so full of life. She was beset with megrims where the slightest noise set her to raving, and she would have weeks where she would not get out of bed. Sometimes she would be overly attentive to Lilias, trying almost desperately to get Lilias wed, and other times, she would ignore her completely as if she quite forgot she was even there.
“Yes.” Lilias looked sad for a moment. “She says my inability to obtain a marriage offer has made her deathly ill.”
“You know I’m not a champion of marrying without love, but you cannot possibly fall in love again if you never forget Greybourne and turn your sights elsewhere.”
“Greybourne has nothing to do with why I have not wed.” Lilias waved a dismissive hand. “I forgot him ages ago.”