Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(74)

“You look just as you did when you were fifteen,” Rosalie said approvingly as Mira rested her head against the back of the seat and sighed contentedly. “Full of high spirits and eagerness.”

“I do?” Mira asked, beginning to chuckle again. “Only three months ago I couldn’t talk to you without tears coming to my eyes. I felt very…” She paused, and her expression became more thoughtful. “... beaten and worn. Very old. Why has everything changed now, I wonder?”

“Because you’re not alone any longer,” Rosalie answered simply.

“Do you always have the perfect answer?” Mira asked, smiling.

“She does,” Rand assured Mira, lifting his wife’s hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. “Which is why I married her.”

The driver stopped the sleigh in the midst of a large assemblage of similar vehicles. Some were constructed with a third seat for the driver, whereas some were smaller and made for the gentlemen to take hold of the reins themselves. Driving oneself instead of hiring a coachman was an activity of well-established and fast-growing popularity.

The buzz and hum of enthusiastic conversation filtered out to the arriving guests. Rand helped his wife and Mira out of the sleigh and escorted them inside an enormous Palladian mansion, where they were faced with a vast assortment of well-bundled individuals who waited for the sleighs to be lined up and readied forthe long ride. As Rosalie had explained to Mira, they would all form a long line and drive through the countryside, singing, talking, and laughing.

Mira looked around the crowd and did not see one familiar face. That was good. Smiling gamely, she allowed Rosalie to introduce her to several people, all of whom were kind and very pleasant. Her spirits rose as several minutes of entertaining conversation ensued. Why, these people seemed to like her! It was not that difficult to fit in here, at least superficially. She had changed. She was no longer a clumsy village girl or the shy pretend-mistress of an aging bachelor. She was young and lively, a “charming creature,” as someone had pronounced her not a minute ago, a woman who wore expensive clothes with ease and could carry on a conversation about many different subjects. Her newfound confidence increased with every minute, and she became less inclined to cling to Rosalie’s side.

Mira’s good mood was dampened slightly as Rosalie brought over someone for her to meet, a young man by the name of Edgar Onslow. Perhaps someday he would be an attractive man, but for now he was only a nervous boy who flushed as he was introduced to her and took her hand too tightly. His hair was red, a shade that presently formed an incongruous combination with his bright pink skin.

“Mr. Onslow is such a nice young man,” Rosalie said, obviously delighted with the situation. “Of course, Miss Germain, I knew that I had to introduce the two of you.”

There was a betraying note of satisfaction in her voice, and Mira smiled weakly as it became clear that this was what Rosalie considered to be a prime candidate for a meaningful courtship. Oh, Rosalie, Mira thought wryly, tamping down a sense of panic as Edgar Onslow stared at her with obvious fascination, I know you want me to marry a nice young man whowill never hurt me. But I am not as fragile as you think. I need someone I can badger every now and then… someone who is strong enough to take care of me… someone who won’t let me bully him. I don’t want someone who is weaker than I am.

“Goodness, I must find my husband,” Rosalie said, and disappeared before Mira could utter another word.

Onslow was sweet and sincere, and possibly the most boring man Mira had ever met. She tried to involve him in conversation, but all she received in return for her artful attempts at conversation were monosyllabic answers. Either Onslow was too smitten with her to talk or he had painfully little talent with words. When it became evident that Rosalie did not intend to return and rescue her, Mira acknowledged to herself that the exciting sleigh ride she had hoped for was going to be a dull journey indeed, for there was no prospective rescue from Onslow in sight. “Miss Germain, would you care for some punch?” Onslow inquired hopefully, apparently as tense as she was at the chore of having to make conversation, and she nodded with relief.

“Thank you, Mr. Onslow.”

As soon as he left her, Rosalie appeared out of nowhere and rushed over to Mira. “Did he ask you to ride in his sleigh?” she demanded, her blue eyes glowing with enthusiasm.

“We hadn’t gotten to that yet,” Mira replied unenthusiastically.

“And you let him go?”

“He’s fetching me some punch.”

“Sacrebleu, I’m going to follow him to make certain that no one else gets him. I saw that little minx Letty Wheaton eyeing him from the corner.”

Mira was about to point out that there was hardly a line forming to compete for the charms of Onslow, but she saw how determined Rosalie was to play matchmaker. Mira sighed as the other woman set off inpursuit of the escaping prey with the intention of dragging him back. “Letty Wheaton can have him,” she murmured under her breath, and then she started as she heard a soft chuckle right at her ear.

“Previously I had assumed that Lady Berkeley had faultless taste. But then, we’re all entitled to a mistake once in a while.”

Mira whirled around and found herself staring up at Alec Falkner. He gave her a slow grin that made her heart skip a few beats.

“She has wonderful taste,” Mira managed to say in response to his remark, and the corners of his well-shaped mouth twitched in amusement.