The Lady's Second-Chance Suitor by Scott, Regina (christmas read aloud txt) 📗

Rosemary sagged, as if all the fire had gone out of her. “Iknow. I could tell you it is all in your imagination, but he sent me flowersyesterday.”

Which only proved how little Lord Howland understood thetragedies she and her bluestocking sister had survived. Hester touched her arm.“I’m so sorry. He couldn’t know.”

“Of course he couldn’t know. I explained myself a fewmoments ago, so it shouldn’t happen again.”

She should hope not. She hadn’t the aversion to the blossomsher sister had, but she would never forget finding their father dead among thewildflowers. He had been attacked by the smugglers he had sought to apprehendas a Riding Officer for the Excise Office. She and Rosemary had relied on eachother then, while their mother and older brother dealt with moving the family fromKent to Upper Grace to live with their mother’s brother. The only thing thathad ever threatened to drive her and Rosemary apart had been Rob Peverell.

She raised her head now. Enough of these thoughts! She mustfind her next dance partner. She stood and set off around the edge of thedancefloor, as if she were intent on some errand. Still, memories chased her.

Rob, racing her down the road on horseback.

Rob, laughing as he spun her in a circle among the wavinggrass of the Downs.

Rob, meeting her on the shore to watch the sun set in aglory that was as fiery as his kiss.

Rob, disappearing with only the most casual of farewells,leaving her hurting.

No, no! She had made a fool of herself over a handsomestranger who had turned out to be the younger son of Viscount Peverell, one ofthe two local landowners. It had been humiliating, heart-breaking. But good hadcome of it. Because of her wounded heart, she had carefully considered Jasper’sproposal of marriage when he’d been home between assignments in the Navy.Because she’d married her lieutenant, she now had a beautiful six-year-olddaughter who brightened her life. Because of Rebecca’s birth, her mother hadopened her home to them, so Hester always had somewhere safe to live. Becauseshe’d been widowed, she’d been accepted as the teacher for the dame school inUpper Grace, helping young minds to grow. And because of her service, she couldlive with her head high, a pillar of the community, respected wherever shewent. Truly, it was all a blessing.

“Excuse me, dearie.” A farmwife shoved past on her way tothe door. Hester stepped back to avoid her and collided with a solid frame.

She turned to apologize, and the words dried up in her mouth.

Rob Peverell stared at her, lighthazel eyes darkened by his evening black, hair tousled, chin just beginning tohint of stubble.

“Gwen?” he asked.

She wanted to shoot into the sky like one of Mr. Congreve’srockets, explode in a flash of lightning, sink to the bottom of the cove. Hercheeks were hot, her muscles frozen. Somehow, she managed to find her voice.

“You are mistaken, sir. I do not know you.”

Then she turned and fled as fast as dignity allowed.

~~~

“Who was that?” his sister asked.

Rob, the recently elevated Viscount Peverell, shook hishead. “I thought I knew, but perhaps she’s right. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

Elizabeth’s hazel gaze, so like his own, followed thehoney-haired beauty as she hurried away from them, ruby-colored silk skirts swaying.“She certainly didn’t care for you. That was nearly the cut direct.”

It had been. Over the years, he’d deserved it on any numberof occasions. His dalliance with Guinevere Ascot had been one of them. Yetsurely someone so lovely, so warm and giving as Gwen would have been longmarried. It had been, what, seven years now? She would have changed.

He was doing his best to change.

“Lord Peverell, Miss Peverell.” The pretty hostess of thespa smiled at them as she approached, the curls at the sides of her faceglinting like gold. “I’ve been asked to introduce you to several of ourRegulars. Would that be permissible?”

Mrs. Denby had been a dewy-eyed miss, helping her hostessmother and physician father at the spa, when last he’d visited the area. Hisfather and brother had been alive then, and he’d let them carry most of theconversations on the rare occasion they consented to appear in the village.He’d needed more than the spa, the village shops, and the assembly to enlivenhim.

Gwen had been everything he had wanted and more.

Now he inclined his head. “We’d be delighted. Perhaps first,you could answer a question for me. Do you know Miss Guinevere Ascot?”

She tapped her chin with one finger. “I don’t believe we’veever had a guest by that name, and certainly no one locally.”

He nodded across the room, to where a young military officerin scarlet regimentals was escorting Gwen out onto the floor. “What about thatlady?”

She followed his gaze, and her smile warmed. “Mysister-in-law, Mrs. Todd. But her first name isn’t Guinevere. It’s Hester.”

“And her husband?” Elizabeth put in with a glance to Rob. “Astalwart sort, protective of his lady, perhaps?”

Did she think he intended to carry Hester Todd off? Once,perhaps, but not now. Too much depended on him finding a way to pretend he knewhow to be the viscount.

“He was a valiant lieutenant in the Navy,” Mrs. Denbyassured his sister. “Gone now these past six years. Mrs. Todd teaches at thedame school in Upper Grace. Did you wish an introduction, my lord?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him.

“No, thank you,” Rob made himself say. “But we will awaityour good pleasure on the others.”

She nodded and swept off to find those desirous of makinghis acquaintance. Mrs. Todd would not be among them.

He couldn’t have mistaken her. She had to be his Gwen.

She’d been rather proud of that name. “Guinevere,” she’dsaid with a toss of her silky mane when he’d asked the intimacy of using herfirst name. “Like Arthur’s queen.”

“Then you shall be mine,” Rob had vowed.

If she had given him a false name instead of her own, it hadbeen only his due. He certainly hadn’t advertised his name. His father wouldhave had apoplexy if he’d known his younger son was improving a boring summerby romancing a local lass.

Beside him, Elizabeth’s feet shuffled below her lavendersilk skirts. “After Mrs. Denby makes these introductions, may