Love's Guardian Read Online Free

decision. After my dreadful Season in London, he realized I wasn’t ready. I’m still not.”
    Alex sat on the edge of the bed and tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. “I’ll find a husband, eventually, but right now I’m needed here. I can’t go traipsing off to London. Even after months of dinner parties and balls during my first Season, I still hadn’t met one lord I could respect, let alone love.” She lay back on the counterpane with her hands behind her head. “Do you remember all those hopefuls falling over themselves at the ball we hosted?”
    “Of course. Their ardor was quite comical. How many glasses of champagne did they bring you?” Her cousin smiled and settled beside her on the bed, fanning her skirts in a futile attempt to avoid wrinkles. “When you refused to choose a husband, I could feel the outrage in the room.”
    “I swear, if I hadn’t promised Grandfather I’d behave, I would have challenged Lord Duprey at that ball.” Alex sat up. “Did you know he kissed me?”
    Her cousin’s shocked expression made her want to laugh. Someday Eleanor would discover that not everyone lived by Society’s rules.
    “When?” Eleanor brought the tip of her fingers to her lower lip. “I thought you were well-chaperoned.”
    “I was, but I’d stepped out to the garden for some air, and he came up behind me. He’s lucky I didn’t have my dagger. If kissing is the reason men and women marry, it’s most assuredly overrated.”
    Her cousin laughed, a joyous sound, so incongruous with the refined woman she presented to the world. “Maybe he’s as poor at kissing as he is at everything else. As I recall, he only excelled in arrogance.”
    Alex got up, crossed to the dressing table, and tried to run a brush through her curls. Why couldn’t she have Eleanor’s wavy golden hair instead of auburn tresses that couldn’t be tamed? Before she could do any more damage, Eleanor joined her and took the brush away.
    “Here,” Eleanor said, “sit at the dressing table. Be still. I can’t arrange your hair if you keep fidgeting.”
    She tried not to move, gazed in the mirror, then stuck her tongue out at her reflection. “I wish I’d been born poor.”
    “Now if that isn’t the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard you say. Most women would be thrilled with your station in life.” Eleanor stopped the brush in mid-stroke. “What prompted this?”
    “Thinking about the past.” Alex rested her chin in her palm and caught Eleanor’s gaze in the mirror. “On The Merry Elizabeth , it didn’t matter what I looked like or who my family was. Now I constantly have to remind myself to act like a countess.” She turned away and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in the dresser scarf. “I guess I’m just missing the old days.”
    Eleanor’s voice held amusement. “See, Lord Worthington did you a service. If you’d stayed on board ship, you never would have met me, and wouldn’t that have been a shame?”
    Grinning at Eleanor’s reflection, Alex raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Do you mean to tell me you liked the snakes I put in your bed? I didn’t even know I had a cousin. If you’ll recall, I made a vow to hate you after we met.”
    “You hated a lot of things when you first arrived, but look how well it turned out.” Eleanor patted a curl into place. “Why, I’ll wager you’ve even become accustomed to those dresses we made you wear.”
    Alex joined in Eleanor’s laughter. They both knew she wore her silk shirt and breeches whenever possible. She needed to fence and ride astride. Those activities made her feel truly alive, and they couldn’t be done readily in dresses. Grandfather had understood, even if the rest of the world didn’t. God, she missed him.
    Eleanor tugged some curls loose around Alex’s face and stepped back to admire her handiwork. “There, you look like a princess. Now all we have to do is pick out your dress for this evening.” She crossed to Alex’s