Edith Layton Read Online Free Page B

something much more. Something he’d never known.
    He knew people too, too well to be entirely swayed by her physical charms. Unlike many men of his acquaintance, Rafe believed a woman’s mind could be as keen, or as dull, as any male’s. In his opinion, a person’s sex might skew his or her reasoning, but not impair it. A man had to judge accordingly. He’d met women as hard as rocks, survivors of war or their own difficult lives. He’d known hard-bitten sergeants with emotions softer than a dewy maid’s.
    Rafe wasn’t entirely unhappy to stand back and let others take the stage. As a spectator, he couldassess the lady now. There were things only an onlooker could note. Like a man sitting in a window watching the passersby in a crowded street, he could see things that those who were moving could not.
    She was not as charmed as she appeared to be. He caught flashes of impatience in those beautiful blue eyes. A certain calculation as she assessed a suitor. Sometimes there was more than momentary impatience to be seen in those lucent eyes. Sometimes, more often than he liked to see, she looked inward and stilled. That was sorrow, he could swear it. She was vulnerable. She stood in their midst, admired and yet alone. A certain pervasive sadness haunted her. It drew him, it called to him, it made him stay.
    And she did notice him. She might not have said more than good morning when he came in, but she kept looking his way. He reasoned that could be because she was a consummate flirt. It didn’t matter to him, because that blue gaze found him, if only through the corners of her eyes. She saw him. Often.
    She laughed with the other gentlemen. She made a few comments, but didn’t speak much more than he did. She hardly had the chance, with all the men vying for her attention. She listened and watched as much as Rafe did too. He could only hope she came to the same conclusions about her callers. They were three parts fool, two parts fop, three parts fribble, and all looking for acceptable matches.
    Time crawled by, but it did pass. There was only so much time one could stay at a morning call. One by one, reluctantly, the gentlemen began to maketheir good-byes. They took Annabelle’s little hand and bowed over it. They murmured last compliments, made promises, pledged their devotion, and filed past Rafe to fetch their hats and walking sticks and leave.
    Now he could act. Rafe came up to her to say his farewell. He got his first clear look at her, and paused, gazing at her helplessly. He quickly looked to the hand she offered him so she wouldn’t see what was so obviously in his eyes.
    “Lord Dalton!” she said with pleasure. “Rafe, I mean,” she added, showing him a dimple near her lips as she smiled. “You were so silent I thought you’d left without saying good-bye.”
    “I wouldn’t do that,” he said.
    “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you had. Such a gabble! Thank you for the flowers, by the way.”
    He’d sent her flowers because he’d danced with her the other night, and wanted her to remember that. But the room was filled with flowers. She’d danced all night.
    “You’re welcome. Thing is,” he said, daring to gaze directly at her eyes, “I’m not much for polite chatter. Well, as you saw. Or rather, didn’t hear. I leave the jokes and stories to other fellows. But I make a very good audience. So I wondered if you’d care to drive out with me this afternoon. If you’ve had enough gabble, I can at least promise you some quiet time in the park. I’m reckoned a good driver, and it’s a fine day.”
    She tilted her head to the side, obviously weighinghim, clearly considering him. “How kind,” she said, “but I’m so sorry, I’m promised to Radcliffe this afternoon.”
    He nodded. “So I thought you might be. Then may I ask if you have escort to the Swanson ball Friday night?”
    “Lud! Another party at their house! But yes, I recall I accepted Croft’s kind invitation.”
    He’d heard