Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: DeAnne Cherry
were there for two entire hours."
Evan shook his head, remembering how Nathan had sulked around his solicitor's office, trying to occupy himself, when he accidentally kicked a cabinet, sending a framed portrait of the man's wife crashing to the ground, breaking to pieces.
Evan laughed at his thoughts. "To this day when I visit he moves that portrait, as if I'm about to attack it."
Nathan smirked. "He should not have left it perched so precariously on the edge then."
"If you'd rather not go you could speak to my mother tonight, if you're attending the Brockhurst's Ball."
"I have been invited," said Nathan. "Shocking, seeing as I'm only the son of a lowly Baron, and a second son at that."
"Yes, but you are very rich. It acquits you of all flaws, didn't you know?" asked Evan laughing. He walked over to his chair before lifting the coat he had perched on the arm. He shrugged into the ill-fitted superfine one arm at a time, the browns of his over and waist coats warring with one another. "Are you joining me, or not?"
Nathan sighed. "I suppose, but only if you truly will be there for a moment."
"Of course. Would I lead you astray?" asked Evan, smiling.
The made their way outside and Evan practically cantered down the lane, with Nathan trying to keep pace. He knew his business would take a bit longer that he admitted, but watching Nathan squirm from acute idleness was one of his favorite pastimes since university, but more than that, he was happy to spend the day with his friend.
***
Lady Fleur Osborne sat in the family's private upstairs parlor and wished. She wished for patience with her knitting as the wool slid from her fingers and needles for the third time that morning. She wished for rain that afternoon, hoping she would not have to honor her acceptance of taking a drive in Mr. Hamilton's new phaeton. But most of all, she wished she could stay home that evening, though she did look forward to seeing her friends one final time.
She had finally managed to move the fallen stitches back onto her needles with a feeling of accomplishment when a loud bang! made her startle, and all her hard work unraveled as it fell to the floor. Pursing her lips, she swung around in her chair towards the door, knowing she would find her sister there.
"Julia Osborne!" she shouted, then took a deep breath to calm her nerves while her sister looked startled as she.
"Good heavens, what are you shouting at me for?" asked Julia, hand clutched to her heart, her eyes challenging.
Fleur's brows knitted as she turned back to the tangled maze on the floor. "Why is it that every time you open a door it sounds like a pistol echoing thru the house? How many times must I ask you to show some restraint?"
Julia tapped her chin in feigned thought as she hummed. "At least once more?"
Fleur pursed her lips again, this time failing to hide a smile. "A lady walks calmly and gracefully into a room, she does not go charging in like a ... oh, what's the use? Honestly, you're nineteen now and out into society. I should not have to remind you like a child."
Julia sighed and walked further into the room, her blue muslin swaying, matching the light hue of her eyes, her dark chestnut hair shining. She settled on the arm of the wingback situated next to the window. "Shouldn't you give me up for lost?" she asked, leaning towards the window and moving the curtain slightly so she could look out onto the busy streets of Mayfair.
"No doubt I should, and stop staring out of the window. What if someone sees you?" Fleur asked as she leaned down and picked her matted wool up off of the floor.
"Oh, it's Mr. Trentham. Look at him, standing in the streets smiling like the world's biggest fool." Fleur watched in horror as Julia raised her hand and wiggled her fingers, acknowledging him from the window.
Speechless, Fleur opened and closed her mouth trying to form words that would not come. She stood, her forgotten knitting crashing to the floor once
Evan shook his head, remembering how Nathan had sulked around his solicitor's office, trying to occupy himself, when he accidentally kicked a cabinet, sending a framed portrait of the man's wife crashing to the ground, breaking to pieces.
Evan laughed at his thoughts. "To this day when I visit he moves that portrait, as if I'm about to attack it."
Nathan smirked. "He should not have left it perched so precariously on the edge then."
"If you'd rather not go you could speak to my mother tonight, if you're attending the Brockhurst's Ball."
"I have been invited," said Nathan. "Shocking, seeing as I'm only the son of a lowly Baron, and a second son at that."
"Yes, but you are very rich. It acquits you of all flaws, didn't you know?" asked Evan laughing. He walked over to his chair before lifting the coat he had perched on the arm. He shrugged into the ill-fitted superfine one arm at a time, the browns of his over and waist coats warring with one another. "Are you joining me, or not?"
Nathan sighed. "I suppose, but only if you truly will be there for a moment."
"Of course. Would I lead you astray?" asked Evan, smiling.
The made their way outside and Evan practically cantered down the lane, with Nathan trying to keep pace. He knew his business would take a bit longer that he admitted, but watching Nathan squirm from acute idleness was one of his favorite pastimes since university, but more than that, he was happy to spend the day with his friend.
***
Lady Fleur Osborne sat in the family's private upstairs parlor and wished. She wished for patience with her knitting as the wool slid from her fingers and needles for the third time that morning. She wished for rain that afternoon, hoping she would not have to honor her acceptance of taking a drive in Mr. Hamilton's new phaeton. But most of all, she wished she could stay home that evening, though she did look forward to seeing her friends one final time.
She had finally managed to move the fallen stitches back onto her needles with a feeling of accomplishment when a loud bang! made her startle, and all her hard work unraveled as it fell to the floor. Pursing her lips, she swung around in her chair towards the door, knowing she would find her sister there.
"Julia Osborne!" she shouted, then took a deep breath to calm her nerves while her sister looked startled as she.
"Good heavens, what are you shouting at me for?" asked Julia, hand clutched to her heart, her eyes challenging.
Fleur's brows knitted as she turned back to the tangled maze on the floor. "Why is it that every time you open a door it sounds like a pistol echoing thru the house? How many times must I ask you to show some restraint?"
Julia tapped her chin in feigned thought as she hummed. "At least once more?"
Fleur pursed her lips again, this time failing to hide a smile. "A lady walks calmly and gracefully into a room, she does not go charging in like a ... oh, what's the use? Honestly, you're nineteen now and out into society. I should not have to remind you like a child."
Julia sighed and walked further into the room, her blue muslin swaying, matching the light hue of her eyes, her dark chestnut hair shining. She settled on the arm of the wingback situated next to the window. "Shouldn't you give me up for lost?" she asked, leaning towards the window and moving the curtain slightly so she could look out onto the busy streets of Mayfair.
"No doubt I should, and stop staring out of the window. What if someone sees you?" Fleur asked as she leaned down and picked her matted wool up off of the floor.
"Oh, it's Mr. Trentham. Look at him, standing in the streets smiling like the world's biggest fool." Fleur watched in horror as Julia raised her hand and wiggled her fingers, acknowledging him from the window.
Speechless, Fleur opened and closed her mouth trying to form words that would not come. She stood, her forgotten knitting crashing to the floor once
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