Caroline Linden Read Online Free Page A

conversation she had overheard earlier, but from all the clumsy intimations Susan had made over the last few days about a wonderful gentleman she’d met, and wouldn’t Charlotte be so happy for her when she married? In many ways Susan was still a stranger to her, but in this she had been completely transparent.
    “Aunt Charlotte, you always said I could speak to you about anything,” Susan began, her voice a little higher pitched than usual. “There—there is something I would like to tell you.”
    “Of course, dear, what is it?” Charlotte saw him approaching from the corner of her eye. Oh dear, he wouldn’t go quietly. Susan gulped some more champagne, her eyes flitting toward him on every other word.
    “I’m not a child anymore,” she said in a rush. “I am almost eighteen, old enough to know my own heart, and I have met the man I intend to marry.”
    “Ah.”
    Susan looked momentarily surprised by her meek reply. “Please don’t stand in my way. I love him and I want to marry him. Papa wanted me to be happy, and Mr. Drake will make me happy.”
    “Susan, I don’t think this is the proper time or place,” said Charlotte gently. Why couldn’t the wretched man simply leave? Susan would be hurt, but at least it would spare them all a public scene. A confrontation in Lady Kildair’s ballroom would only humiliate Susan as well as break her heart.
    “Please meet him, Aunt Charlotte.” Susan faced her with wide, intent eyes, her spine straight and her hands clenched. “Please listen to his suit.”
    Charlotte hid her sinking heart behind a serene face. “If you wish, dear.” And then he was before her again, just as tall, just as devastating, just as wicked as before. Charlotte looked up, somewhat unsettled by the realization that he seemed even bigger and darker here than in the library. She had thought it all a trick of the light.
    “May I present Mr. Stuart Drake,” Susan was saying. “Mr. Drake, my aunt, the Contessa de Griffolino.”
    “Good evening.” Charlotte inclined her head, and he bowed.
    “Drake, I’ve told my aunt of how much we’ve come to care for each other,” said Susan, becoming more nervous. “And that we wish to marry.”
    The man smiled at her, so warmly Charlotte could almost believe he meant it. “Indeed, you’ve stolen my best line.”
    Susan giggled, looking very, very young and vulnerable next to him. Charlotte’s resolve firmed; over her dead body would this scoundrel marry her innocent niece. She adopted the cool, remote smile any Italian would recognize as a rebuff, wanting to tear a strip off his hide after all, scandal be damned.
    “Perhaps you would honor me with a dance,” Mr. Drake said, holding out his hand. “That I might argue my fitness for the honor of your niece’s hand.”
    Charlotte looked at his hand, then at his face. The charming smile was still in place, but it didn’t reach his eyes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to put herself in his grasp again. Susan waited by his side, hands clasped in supplication. “Perhaps you would prefer to call,” Charlotte said. “We will be at home tomorrow.”
    Susan caught her breath and turned anxiously to Mr. Drake, but his eyes never wavered from Charlotte’s.
    “No, I would prefer to dance. In truth, I cannot wait until tomorrow. I would have my answer as soon as possible.”
    “Please, Aunt Charlotte?”
    Charlotte hated him even more for the hope in Susan’s voice. You have already had your answer , she promised him silently. Giving in, she handed her glass to Susan. “If you wish. Susan, will you wait for me?”
    “Oh, yes!” Her niece beamed at both of them as Charlotte took his hand. Instantly his fingers closed over hers in a firm grip, and he led her to the center of the floor where couples were just gathering for the next dance.
    “You are wasting your time.” She adjusted her shawl to a more secure position and waited for the dance to start. He said nothing, but caught her hand and