La Bella Isabella Read Online Free Page B

cabbies had their own problems with the weather—choosing where possible to stick to the main thoroughfares, which had been cleared of snow—arrival at some of the more obscure venues could be a problem.
    Amanda chose to skillfully change the subject. “So who is at Lady Greenford’s Ball tonight? It could prove interesting.” Or problematic, she thought, but kept that comment to herself.
     
    ***
     
    Lady Greenford’s ball was well underway before Harry trod up the wide staircase to the ballroom. A sight for all the young ladies to swoon over, he knew he cut a dashing figure in his elegant evening clothes. As he paused at the top of the stairs to be introduced, his gaze swept the crowded ballroom. Not that he knew just who he was looking for, but he was sure before long he would recognize his hooded lady. And get some answers. Although he suspected those answers might not be freely given, and a little blackmail might be involved. Of the nicest sort.
    He bowed over his hostess’s hand and then kissed her cheek.
    “Godmama, you look ravishing as usual. How can someone as young as you be my godmama?”
    Mary, Lady Greenford, laughed and tapped his cheek with her fan. “No knee breeches, Harry? Pantaloons. Not what is expected.”
    “Ah, but I never am,” he replied, “what is expected. I have to intrigue the ladies somehow. Not all are as beautiful as you or look on me as fondly.”
    “You, my dear Harry, are an incorrigible flirt,” his godmama stated. “But I love you and forgive you for being late. And for the pantaloons! No should we say…earlier commitments…that held you up, I trust?” She looked at him archly.
    Harry wasn’t quite sure to which commitment she alluded. However, he was able to reply truthfully. “None at all, except a rather good glass of Claret with Charlie, who will be here at any time. I am totally unencumbered and fancy free.” Well, almost. He left Mary to greet another latecomer and made his way through the throng, greeting and being greeted as he moved slowly but steadily toward the back of the ballroom where he knew there was an antechamber set up in readiness for cards. His godmother knew how to keep those gentlemen willing—or instructed to attend—occupied, and therefore, more likely to stay for more than the minimum length of time.
    A selected few, of whom Harry was one, also knew there were several secluded rooms, all of which could be used for a little innocent and sometimes not so innocent dalliance.
    “Going for the cards, brother mine?” His younger sibling stood with his back to the wall, eying the ladies carefully.
    “George, you look like you’re choosing which cake to eat next,” Harry admonished him. “Try to be a little less obvious.”
    “Why?” George asked. “I’m eying up what’s available to see what I fancy. Nothing wrong in that, is there?”
    “Not unless Mama catches you and gives you a lecture about your attitude to women, and how to improve it,” Harry answered, uncomfortably aware, that he could often be accused of doing exactly the same thing as his brother, but with more subtlety.
    George suddenly changed his demeanor. “Oh, my lord. I forgot she was here tonight. Have you seen her?”
    “Mm, no, not yet,” Harry answered absently as a glimpse of a silhouette caught his eye. “I’ll catch you later.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder and moved away swiftly. George smoothed the shoulder of his jacket.
    Harry thought George was once more on the prowl and pitied any young woman in his sights. George was a formidable opponent when he chose to be.
    Harry jostled his way to the edge of the dance floor, where a country dance was due to begin. He reached his quarry just before a thin youth sporting a badly tied cravat did, and Harry bowed over the lady’s hand.
    “My dance, I believe.” He held out his arm, defying her to disagree. “The first of many and varied dances we seem fated to enjoy?”
    She looked at him, apparently