The Vital Principle Read Online Free Page B

dowager said, her beringed hands fluttering from her dark blue turban to the lacy edge of her bodice and back again. “Miss Howard, are you badly injured?”
    Seated in Miss Barnard’s chair, Miss Howard leaned over, holding one slippered foot between her hands. A few tears dripped over her plump cheeks. “I’ve stepped on a piece of glass.”
    Lord Thompson, a tall, haughty gentleman who set Knighton's teeth on edge without trying, bent down on one knee in front of the injured girl. However, Miss Barnard knelt between them before Thompson could take Miss Howard’s foot in his hand to examine it. She gently eased the shard out of the thin kid sole of Miss Howard’s slipper with long, sensitive fingers.
    Frowning, Lord Thompson pulled out a handkerchief, shook it, and handed it to Miss Barnard. He obviously wanted to prove his concern to Miss Howard, despite Miss Barnard’s interference. Both women ignored him. Miss Barnard bound the foot tightly and then fitted the thin shoe over the bandage while Lady Howard gripped her daughter’s hand.
    Miss Howard, noting Knighton’s glance, flushed and stared down at the floor. He studied her pretty face, wondering why she seemed so oddly secretive. It was strange to find a girl of marriageable age who preferred the company of her mother to any of the men present.
    Perhaps she simply didn’t care for the selection.
    He couldn’t blame her. There wasn’t much choice. The only unattached males were George Denham with his farmer-like appearance, Lord Thompson who was attractive but too haughty to appeal to most women, Lord Crowley’s quiet, middle-aged uncle, and their unpleasant host.
    “Let me help you to your room,” Lord Thompson said.
    “Thank you,” mother and daughter said together. Miss Howard added, “Thank you, however it’s unnecessary.”
    “Of course it’s necessary,” he replied brusquely. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
    He briefly joined the cluster of guests milling around the Crowleys.
    When Lord Crowley did not immediately turn to him, Lord Thompson picked up a snifter of brandy and took a quick, fortifying gulp. “If you’ll pardon me, Lord Crowley, I’ll take Miss Howard and her mother to their rooms.”
    “Do you intend to return? Perhaps Miss Barnard has other exciting entertainments prepared?” Lord Crowley asked in a querulous tone.
    Lord Thompson stiffened and put his snifter back onto the table with a snap. The pinched skin between his brows and two spots of color staining his cheekbones betrayed anger, but he replied with a cool drawl, “I believe I’ll say good night. It’s well after midnight. And don’t forget our plans to leave early tomorrow for Scotland.”
    “As you wish. Good night then, Thompson.” Lord Crowley held his brandy up in a dismissive salute to the Howard ladies. “I hope Miss Howard is not too badly injured by that girl’s clumsiness. If you need anything, just ask.”
    “Thank you, Lord Crowley,” Lady Howard replied, hovering over her daughter.
    Crowley took another sip of his brandy and then coughed wetly. Sputtering, he placed his glass on the table in front of him. He coughed again into his fist.
    Knighton watched with growing concern as Crowley’s face darkened, flushing with a deep, bluish-purple color. Crowley swayed, wavering unsteadily then gripped the back of his chair. Blinking and coughing, he crashed to the floor, pulling the chair down on top of him.
    “Lord Crowley!” He pushed past the other guests and pulled the chair off Crowley. He rolled him over on his back.
    Crowley gagged and choked, gasping for air. He clutched Knighton's lapel and jerked him closer. His reddened eyes widened as Knighton worked to loosen Crowley’s neckcloth. But before he could unwind the complicated material, he heard the terrible, unmistakable sound of a rattling exhalation.
    “Henry!” Lady Crowley said. Eyes fixed on Knighton’s face, Lady Crowley blindly grabbed Miss Barnard’s forearm and clung