Encounter with Venus Read Online Free Page A

entirely for arriving so late. May I introduce myself? I’m Sir Horace Thomsett, and this is my brother Algernon.”
    “I’m so glad to meet you at last,” Felicia said, offering her hand to both. “Leyton has sung your praises so often.”
    Horace turned her aside, and in a hushed voice explained that his brother, Algernon, had taken ill on the road. “It was an attack of pernicious dyspepsia,” he murmured, “so severe that we felt it necessary to stop at an inn until the symptoms abated.”
    But his brother heard every word. “You needn’t whisper,” he said querulously, “and you needn’t make so much of a simple stomach upset caused by the rocking of the coach. I assure you, Lady Felicia, that I’m much better now.”
    “Are you sure?” Felicia asked, turning to him. “Would you wish me to send for the doctor? Our Dr. Simmons is very good.”
    “No, I think a good night’s sleep is all Algy needs,” Horace declared firmly.
    “Really, Horace,” his brother whined, “I wish you wouldn’t always speak for me. But I suppose going to sleep would be wise.”
    “Then you must go to bed at once,” Felicia said, and with a nod of her head, summoned the butler to show him the way.
    Horace watched as the smaller brother followed Kelby up the stairs. “He’ll be a new man in the morning, you’ll see,” he assured Felicia.
    “Do you suppose,” Felicia asked worriedly, “that he might wish a bit of supper brought up to his room?”
    “No, I’m certain he won’t, although I myself must admit to being hungry.”
    Felicia, resigning herself to the fact that these new arrivals would be no help at all in animating the party, nodded and led him to the morning room, where she offered him an aperitif while the remnants of the dinner were hastily reheated and brought to him. By the time he’d satisfied his hunger, the other guests had gone up to bed. “You’ll meet the others in the morning,” Felicia said with an apologetic smile as she bid him good night. But, she realized belatedly, with the men going off for some shooting, and the ladies probably staying abed for half the morning, there would not be an opportunity for proper introductions until teatime.
    Later that night, Felicia tapped at her brother’s door. George was already half asleep. Bleary-eyed, barefoot, and in his nightshirt, he only partially opened the door. “You woke me,” he muttered reproachfully. Then, peering at her in the dim light of the candle she carried, he saw that she, too, was barefoot, although she was otherwise fully covered by a purple peignoir made voluminous by row upon row of lacy flounces. He couldn’t help laughing. “You look like a bunch of grapes,” he said.
    She glared at him. “Thank you for the compliment. But never mind. May I come in?”
    “At this late hour?”
    “Oh, pooh, it’s not even eleven.” She brushed past him, placed her candle on his night table, and perched on his bed. “I want to talk to you.”
    Capitulating, he closed the door and followed her. “Talk to me about what?”
    “About what you think about her,” Felicia prodded eagerly.
    “What is there to think about?” He threw himself upon a chair and replied grumpily, “She’s just as you said—too old for me.”
    Felicia blinked in surprise. “Too old? What nonsense! She’s barely twenty!”
    “Barely twenty? She looks forty to the day!” He eyed his sister suspiciously. “Didn’t you tell me she’s two years your senior?”
    “I never said such a ridiculous thing! She’s younger than Beatrice, and Beatrice is a good eight years younger than I. Looks forty, indeed! Lady Sophy is forty, perhaps, but the only one under this roof who’s close to my age is—” She gasped as an idea suddenly burst upon her. “Goodness me, Georgie, are you speaking of Livy!”
    “Who else would I be speaking of?”
    “You are a clunch! I told you quite plainly I didn’t invite you for Livy. It’s Elaine I’ve invited you to