A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Diane Davis White
laughingstock. Surprised Rothburn hasn't seen it. What do you think I should do?"
Sir Gordon looked with expectancy to his aunt, knowing her alliance and compliance would be forthcoming.
"Start by asking the lady to dance. Make yourself charming. Do the pretty, as any smitten man should do." There was a hint of amusement in Lady Alana's voice, yet she gazed wistfully at the dancers whirling about the room.
"Should I not have a word first with Rothburn?" He spoke with little conviction, his voice smooth, his eyes upon the dancers, speculation suddenly in his gaze.
"I think not. You must first determine if she has an interest. Wouldn't do for you to cause a scene if there were no purpose in it." Her logic was not misplaced but Gordon suspected her motive. He watched the play of emotions cross her features, remembering her behavior at dinner.
"And just why should you evince such interest in my love life, Dearest Aunt? I'm not ungrateful for your concern," he added, watching her features go carefully blank—a habit of long-standing when the lady wanted to appear disinterested.
It fooled most, but he knew her too well to be misled by the attempt.
"I wish only the best for you, dearest Gordon." She smiled shyly, and her defenses fell before his frank look. "Truth be known, I would not find it amiss should their marriage never take place."
"I see. Are you then, perhaps besotted of my friend, Rothburn? How interesting. Always thought you had no interest in marriage."
Sir Gordon was indeed surprised. It had been his understanding that Alana was just too independent to marry, evidenced by her refusal of all suitors. As he awaited her answer, he noticed a slight exasperation in the look she leveled on him.
"I am not interested in anything to do with Lord Rothburn. Do not be foolish enough to think that just because I wish to aid you in seeking the bride of your choice, I have an ulterior motive."
There was no conviction in her words and though Alana could not bring herself to openly admit her smitten state, she was sure her nephew perceived it. She could no longer conceal her desire for Rothburn, at least from the astute Sir Gordon.
Though she did try to remedy his judicious impression. "I really don't know why I said that. I really do not care whom he marries."
* * * * *
The potted palm stirred as Allie maneuvered behind Gordon and Alana, eavesdropping. What she'd heard—so deliciously eventful and fraught with tragic romance—stirred Allie's youthful senses.
She did so love a good plot. Her penchant for romance novels had never given her this much pleasure. Satisfied her first notion had been correct—regarding her Aunt Alana's feelings for Rothburn, at least—she vowed to aid her brother and her aunt as much as possible.
The girl continued to lean into the foliage, awaiting further developments. She did not have to wait long, for her brother was soon threading his way through the crowd and tapping Rothburn on the shoulder. She watched as Rothburn bowed and stepped back.
Her heart raced with her romantic imaginings as Rothburn then made a direct advance to where Lady Alana stood fanning herself.
Withdrawing slightly—lest she be discovered—Allie continued to spy. Gathering information—as she preferred to call it.
* * * * *
"Lady Alana. How nice to see you again. Where is your charge? I do not see her dancing." The Sixth Earl of Rothburn could think of nothing else to open the conversation. His inclination to sweep the lady before him into the night, where he could have her alone muddled his thoughts. Quelling his lust with difficulty, he smiled in an innocent way.
"She is about somewhere. Should I seek her out? Perhaps you wish to dance with her?" Alana, not a little annoyed that he should ask after Allie, tried to quell the petulance in her voice and only just managed to keep her face a level mask of indifference.
She was astounded at the dip of disappointment his words had brought to her heart but
Sir Gordon looked with expectancy to his aunt, knowing her alliance and compliance would be forthcoming.
"Start by asking the lady to dance. Make yourself charming. Do the pretty, as any smitten man should do." There was a hint of amusement in Lady Alana's voice, yet she gazed wistfully at the dancers whirling about the room.
"Should I not have a word first with Rothburn?" He spoke with little conviction, his voice smooth, his eyes upon the dancers, speculation suddenly in his gaze.
"I think not. You must first determine if she has an interest. Wouldn't do for you to cause a scene if there were no purpose in it." Her logic was not misplaced but Gordon suspected her motive. He watched the play of emotions cross her features, remembering her behavior at dinner.
"And just why should you evince such interest in my love life, Dearest Aunt? I'm not ungrateful for your concern," he added, watching her features go carefully blank—a habit of long-standing when the lady wanted to appear disinterested.
It fooled most, but he knew her too well to be misled by the attempt.
"I wish only the best for you, dearest Gordon." She smiled shyly, and her defenses fell before his frank look. "Truth be known, I would not find it amiss should their marriage never take place."
"I see. Are you then, perhaps besotted of my friend, Rothburn? How interesting. Always thought you had no interest in marriage."
Sir Gordon was indeed surprised. It had been his understanding that Alana was just too independent to marry, evidenced by her refusal of all suitors. As he awaited her answer, he noticed a slight exasperation in the look she leveled on him.
"I am not interested in anything to do with Lord Rothburn. Do not be foolish enough to think that just because I wish to aid you in seeking the bride of your choice, I have an ulterior motive."
There was no conviction in her words and though Alana could not bring herself to openly admit her smitten state, she was sure her nephew perceived it. She could no longer conceal her desire for Rothburn, at least from the astute Sir Gordon.
Though she did try to remedy his judicious impression. "I really don't know why I said that. I really do not care whom he marries."
* * * * *
The potted palm stirred as Allie maneuvered behind Gordon and Alana, eavesdropping. What she'd heard—so deliciously eventful and fraught with tragic romance—stirred Allie's youthful senses.
She did so love a good plot. Her penchant for romance novels had never given her this much pleasure. Satisfied her first notion had been correct—regarding her Aunt Alana's feelings for Rothburn, at least—she vowed to aid her brother and her aunt as much as possible.
The girl continued to lean into the foliage, awaiting further developments. She did not have to wait long, for her brother was soon threading his way through the crowd and tapping Rothburn on the shoulder. She watched as Rothburn bowed and stepped back.
Her heart raced with her romantic imaginings as Rothburn then made a direct advance to where Lady Alana stood fanning herself.
Withdrawing slightly—lest she be discovered—Allie continued to spy. Gathering information—as she preferred to call it.
* * * * *
"Lady Alana. How nice to see you again. Where is your charge? I do not see her dancing." The Sixth Earl of Rothburn could think of nothing else to open the conversation. His inclination to sweep the lady before him into the night, where he could have her alone muddled his thoughts. Quelling his lust with difficulty, he smiled in an innocent way.
"She is about somewhere. Should I seek her out? Perhaps you wish to dance with her?" Alana, not a little annoyed that he should ask after Allie, tried to quell the petulance in her voice and only just managed to keep her face a level mask of indifference.
She was astounded at the dip of disappointment his words had brought to her heart but
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