Elizabeth Mansfield Read Online Free Page B

fact I rather admired her brusqueness. The lady didn’t like me and indicated her dislike quite honestly. I much prefer brusque honesty to hypocritical politeness.”
    “But no, my lord, it wasn’t dislike, let me assure you. She puts off anyone who tries to pursue her daughter.”
    “Oh?” Canfield threw the plump little fellow an inquiring look as he threw his evening cloak over his shoulders. “Is there something wrong with her pretty, dreamy-eyed daughter?”
    “Oh, no, nothing at all. Juliet’s a fine young woman, let me assure you, very fine. But her ladyship has planned for the girl to wed her friend’s son—Lady Phyllis’s boy, you know—and she becomes... er... uneasy if any other fellow shows the girl attention.”
    “Ah, I see.” Lord Canfield, who was already moving purposefully toward the stairs, paused in his rapid progress along the hall and peered down at the master of ceremonies with brows raised in mild disapproval. “But, Sir William, if the girl is betrothed, do you think it was proper of you to encourage me to request her hand for the dance? In London, a young lady who is betrothed dances only with her intended or with friends who know her situation. She is not encouraged to dance with strangers.”
    “Let me assure you that is our way also. We are not such a backwater that we don’t know how things are done in town. But in this case the matter is rather muddled. You see, the girl in question is not betrothed. At least not as yet.” The master of ceremonies shook his head and signed unhappily. “Her mother escorts her to these assemblies just as any mother of a marriagable daughter would do, seemingly expecting the girl to dance. Yet as soon as a young man shows the slightest interest, the mother snatches the girl away.”
    “How very curious,” his lordship murmured.
    “Curious it is,” Sir William agreed glumly. “It certainly puts me in a strange position, let me assure you. I am enjoined to present partners to all the unmarried young ladies who attend our assemblies, but when I try to do so in this case, you see how I am abused.”
    “You certainly have my sympathy,” Canfield said with a kindly smile, “but I feel even more for the girl.”
    “For the girl?” Sir William echoed in surprise.
    “Yes, of course. She’s in a more difficult situation than you are if she’s forced to attend and then must sit out all the dances. How very awkward for her, pretty as she is, to be always a wallflower.”
    “Yes, it must be. Julie Branscombe, a wallflower! That, let me assure you, is a most ridiculous epithet for that sweet young girl.”
    “So it seems to me too,” his lordship agreed. “She has the most amazing eyes. As if she were gazing at us from some other world.” Then, realizing he was thinking aloud, he blinked and shook his head. A bit embarrassed, he quickly waved his good-bye to his host and started down the stairs. “If I ever come face-to-face with that pair again in similar circumstances,” he said over his shoulder with a laugh, “I shan’t let the dragon put me off so easily. I’ll get that young lady on the dance floor yet. Let me assure you.”
     
     

 
     
    4
     
     
    As the Branscombe carriage rocked over the unpaved road from Amberford to Enders Hall, Lady Phyllis gazed at the dozing Juliet with a look of such fond affection it could only be called doting. “Madge, my dear, you’re much too hard on the girl,” she whispered to her friend.
    “I can’t help it,” Lady Branscombe muttered in an under-voice. “I am irked beyond words that she did so little to keep Tris from dashing back to London.”
    “It is more Tris’s fault than hers,” Tris’s mother said in the girl’s defense. “He’d set his mind quite firmly on going back to town. I don’t believe anyone could have changed his mind. I very much fear...” Here her soft voice faltered.
    Madge Branscome fixed a wary eye on her friend’s face. “Fear what?”
    Lady Phyllis’s