The Valentine's Day Ball Read Online Free Page B

balustrade. If she took the time to go across the terrace to the steps, she wouldn’t catch up in time.
    In time for what?
    Without further thought, Jane hitched up her skirts, climbed onto the railing, and dropped into the flowerbeds below. A sharp pain shot through her ankle, making her pause and gulp down the cold winter air. She closed her eyes, willing the pain to be brief. As it receded, she tested the joint gingerly. It was tender, but she’d only twisted it.
    Quickly, she trudged out of the damp earth and onto the gravel pathway. Hurrying as fast as her ankle and skirts would allow, she pursued her quarry. The intricately carved woodwork of the summerhouse loomed before her, and her ankle continued to ache dully.
    Just wait till I get my hands on you, Cherry! Just you wait!
    The door was open, and she could hear voices from within as she slowed and finally stopped outside. Pausing to catch her breath, she recognized the deep voice of a man.
    The summerhouse was little more than a large gazebo. In warmer times, Jane loved to escape to its quiet and relaxing atmosphere. It had been built before she was born, and with her grandmother’s permission, she had added a fireplace and removable glass panels to cover the open windows during the winter months. Somehow, Cherry’s deception hurt Jane more deeply since her clandestine meeting was taking place in this, Jane’s favourite retreat.
    Taking a deep breath, Jane entered. The moon and the light from a lone candle afforded her the great satisfaction of witnessing her cousin’s startled expression. Young Lord Pierce nearly threw Cherry’s hand back at her as he leapt away from her side.
    “Jane! I can explain—”
    “Really? You can explain away your wanton—not to mention disrespectful—behaviour? I should love to hear it, but there really isn’t time. You see, your absence is no doubt being remarked, as well as mine and Lord Pierce’s. I wonder what interesting conclusions our guests are forming.”
    “Please, Miss Lindsay, allow me to assure you that Cherry, uh, Miss Pettigrew—”
    “You cannot explain away ill manners, Lord Pierce,” interrupted Jane, stressing his title. No matter if they had known Lord Pierce since he was in shortcoats, she would not allow him to minimize the gravity of the situation. “Cherry, go to your room. I will tell your mother you had the headache and retired early.”
    “I will not!” exclaimed Cherry, showing her natural spirit. “Just because you didn’t get to enjoy a Valentine’s Ball when you were eighteen, you don’t want me to! Well, I’m not going to end up a sour old maid like—”
    “Cherry!”
    Lord Pierce’s startled protest silenced Cherry as nothing Jane might have said could have. She turned horrified blue eyes on Jane, stammered an apology, and fled.
    “Miss Lindsay, she was overwrought. I take full responsibility.”
    “Never mind, Lord Pierce, I am well aware my cousin regrets her words. She is already forgiven. Please, return to the ball. I would not wish your dual absence to become fodder for the gossipmongers.”
    “As you wish.” He bowed elegantly before leaving her.
    Jane sought the nearest chair and collapsed. She had been truthful in telling Lord Pierce she had already forgiven her cousin. Still, an unutterable fatigue settled over her, and her ankle began to throb abominably.
    “May I join you?”
    Now what? Jane looked up to find Lord Devlin towering over her.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked, not caring any more to play the gracious hostess.
    Taking her question as his cue to join her on the bench, Lord Devlin responded, “I was on the balcony when Miss Pettigrew escaped and when you leapt the balcony railing—quite gracefully, I might add. I’m afraid my curiosity got the better of me, and I simply followed you. I didn’t wish to interfere, so I awaited the conclusion of the contretemps.”
    “How noble of you, Lord Devlin. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should return