White Lace and Promises Read Online Free Page B

throat and laughed weakly. “Oh, I just hate to think about catching a quinsy.”
    It was a perfectly plausible explanation. She’d always had a tendency to tonsillitis.
    Mrs Hazelwood’s thin, white brows drew together. “You haven’t been exhausting yourself, have you? You must preserve your health for your wedding day. I shall have Joshua come and have a look at you.”
    Her heart began beating like a trapped bird. “Oh, that’s not necessary.”
    “Nonsense, we can’t be too careful with the wedding so close now. He can bring you some of those preventative elixirs he prepares. They kept me in fine form all last winter.”
    “Everything looks so lovely,” Beth said, to change the subject.
    Mrs Hazelwood beamed with pleasure. “Do you think so? I always work extra hard on my June ball—it’s a special occasion.” Sadness flickered in her eyes. “Today would have been my Peter’s fiftieth birthday.”
    Peter had been Mrs Hazelwood’s brother, younger by twenty years. He had died when Beth was six, and he was no more than a shadow of a memory—a kind gentleman who had always had sweets for her. He must have been a saint, for he’d been canonised in the memory of Mrs Hazelwood in the way that only a childless woman could dote on a much younger sibling. The venerable old woman had lost her only daughter to the yellow fever years before.
    Beth’s eyes burnt—she couldn’t help it. She’d always been envious of Mrs Hazelwood’s regard for her family, her deep love for both Peter and Joshua. At the age of twenty, the full shock of how little she fitted into this world had hit home in the most painful way possible. It had sent her running to her half-brother’s house. But she didn’t fit in any better there than she had here.
    Perhaps, once she was wed to Grey, with her own home and children, she’d feel less envious of others.

    * * * *

    Just beyond the dividing wall, where the double folding doors had been pulled back to make the two parlours into one large ballroom, Grey stood talking with a Mr Phillips, a local wine merchant.
    But the gentleman’s words fell on his ears unheard as Grey watched Beth.
    She stood next to Mrs Hazelwood, in front of the open doors to the garden. The night breezes were gently ruffling the silver-gilt ringlets trailing down from the knot of hair pinned atop her head. A diadem of laurel leaves and pale pink roses adorned the crown. They gave her an innocent air. He adored her hair. She kept it longer than fashion dictated and, when undone, those silken tresses fell over his naked body like a shimmering veil of moonlight.
    He wasn’t the only one admiring her beauty.
    Though the ladies spared her no more than the barest polite attention, she drew glances from gentlemen of varying ages and marital status. Watching their eyes trail over her feminine curves, watching them fall prey to the same beguilement he had the first time he’d set eyes on her, he clenched his teeth. He wanted to go straight over and pull her away and out of the sight of the greedy vultures. Claim her for his eyes only.
    He took a deep breath and forced the urge down. The last thing he needed was to start acting like a possessive jackass every time another man turned an appreciative gaze upon her. Good God, he’d be in a state of outrage all the time. Unless he hid her away somewhere…
    The idea was tempting, damned tempting. But unfortunately it didn’t seem feasible. His mistress he might keep squirrelled away, but never his wife. He tightened his fists. He’d kill any man stupid enough to try to trifle with her.
    The vehemence of his thoughts startled him. Such a charged reaction was the very thing he hated about this whole business of being besotted.
    Yet he couldn’t fault her behaviour. She balanced the right amount of charm and feminine modesty. A perfect lady. Still, he’d begun to understand the idea behind Eastern harem walls.
    Get control over yourself.
    He forced his attention back to