A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,45

now to know my own mind and stand firm in it?

“Is that what she said?”

There was no need to respond, for the answer was obvious.

His head dipped so that our foreheads nearly touched. “I didn’t fall in love with you because you conform. I fell in love with you because you are instinctively, unabashedly, unequivocally you, with all your brilliance and eccentricities. And that is the woman I want our child to have as a mother. Not some diluted version of yourself, where you mute your vibrant reds and blues into conformist grays and browns.”

I blinked rapidly as tears began to fill my eyes, and squeaked, “Really?”

He smiled that tender, private little smile that I knew was only ever for me. “Really.”

His lips pressed to mine as if sealing a promise, and I returned the pledge.

“Now,” he declared. “I suppose it’s past time we dressed for Lady Edmonstone’s ball.” He trailed his fingers down my neck in a caress, his eyes turning languid. “Unless you’ve decided not to attend.”

I sighed, fighting the temptation reflected in his eyes. “We really should attend. For Miss Drummond’s sake.” I swallowed. “And her stepmother’s.”

Gage nodded, understanding what I was trying to convey without the need for words. Sometimes I struggled with the realization that Lady Drummond had been dead for just a year. My friend had died before my eyes, overwhelmed by the final dose of the poison that had slowly been killing her. And if not for my insistence, her death would have been ascribed to natural causes and her killer never found. Her stepdaughter, Imogen, had been a great help during the investigation, and while away from Edinburgh I had kept in touch with her through letters. I knew the lonely, melancholy girl was anxious about her debut, and I wanted to be there to support her.

I admitted I was also anxious to shelter her. She reminded me too much of myself at that age. But while I’d had a loving father, an older sister, and a brother to look out for me, her father was uninterested, at best, and neglectful, at worse. He was also likely to sell her to the suitor who was the highest bidder. Yet even with my family looking after my best interests, I had still made the dreadful mistake of marrying Sir Anthony Darby. I feared that with her ethereal beauty and uncaring father, Imogen’s fate might be even worse.

Chapter 9

My first impression of Lady Edmonstone was that of a brick wall—sturdy, stalwart, and unbending—and the deep red hue of her gown only heightened the comparison. But I quickly recognized that her ladyship also possessed a weak spot when it came to Imogen. It was evident in the gentle smiles she bestowed on her and the soft encouragement she provided as they greeted their guests. She was just the sort of sponsor the girl needed.

As Gage and I had arrived late, we were caught at the tail end of the receiving line, which afforded me the opportunity to observe our hosts. A cousin to the late Lady Drummond, Lady Edmonstone had been abroad with her husband when she died. But upon their return—from somewhere tropical, it appeared, from the looks of their bronzed skin—she had immediately sized up the situation and taken Imogen under her wing. Imogen had spoken highly enough of her assumed aunt, but this was the first chance I’d had to meet her.

Whatever Lady Edmonstone’s other talents might be, she had been astute enough to recognize that the fashion for pure white in debutantes’ debut gowns would never do for Imogen with her long wheat blond hair and pale coloring. The petite girl would have been washed out. Instead, she wore a ball dress of white gaze d’Inde finely painted in soft strips of color and worn over a pale pink satin slip. This enabled her to still appear chaste and demure, but not wan and sickly. Her hair was dressed high on her head in three full bows with a bandeau of large pearls draped over her forehead to match her diamond and pearl earrings, necklace, and bracelet.

Her ensemble put my gown of jonquil-colored aerophane crepe edged with sapphire blue satin entirely to shame, but that was as it should be at a lady’s debut ball. As should the sparkle of happiness and excitement that glistened in her eyes. When she caught sight of me and Gage in the receiving line, I was touched by the added radiance she seemed to bestow