My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(17)
“Lord Garraway Craven? Oh, no.” You can feel the heat rising to your face. “But I have heard…rumors. He was an associate of Lord Byron, was he not?”
Lady Evangeline sniffs her delicate nose and tosses her elegant head. Her artfully arranged curls glimmer golden in the light of the hundreds of candles that decorate the ballroom. “Ah, yes, Garraway certainly was for a time. But that was before he managed to scare off Byron with his, ahem, antics.”
Lady Evangeline smiles so dazzlingly, you feel you must have imagined the haunted expression that briefly crossed her face. All the same, you dare not inquire further. Instead you listen politely as she steers the subject away from her mysterious cousin.
“Still, I suppose it’s all for the best. In most families, I would be the black sheep, but compared to the cabal of sinners I’m related to, I look positively respectable!” She winks conspiratorially. “Well, perhaps Benedict does, too. Though he has his rakish moments.”
As you walk with her, you become increasingly aware of several pairs of hungry eyes turned in your direction. You can’t say you blame them, for Lady Evangeline is looking even more exquisite than usual this evening, with her blue silk dress the exact shade as her eyes, cut daringly low and clinging to every curve. You look down at your shabby gown and feel even plainer and dowdier by comparison. The only fine thing you own is a simple gold bracelet, a gift from your mother before she died.
Lady Evangeline seems oblivious to the commotion she is causing among the menfolk of the ton. She turns her piercing gaze to you.
“My dear, I have a confession to make. You see, I insisted that Aunt Craven bring you to this ball for a reason—” Lady Evangeline stops suddenly as you feel someone bump into you and drench your dress. You look down and see a red river of wine spreading across your ugly yellow frock.
“Oh, dash it, I’m so terribly sorry!” says a short and nervous-looking young man. “I do hope it isn’t ruined!”
He looks so frightened and is so bumbling that you take pity on him. “Oh, I assure you that with this dress, that would be quite impossible,” you tell him kindly.
“Nigel Frickley, you clever dear!” exclaims Lady Evangeline. “I was looking for an excuse to disrobe this lovely young lady.”
Nigel blushes even more crimson than the wine now staining your dress. “I—um—er…” he stammers before Lady Evangeline cuts him off.
“You see, the rags my Aunt Craven has passed off on this poor young thing are simply hideous and ought to be replaced at once. Truly, you have performed a public service.”
And with that, she leads you out of the ballroom. You really have no choice but to accompany her—ruined dress aside, Lady Evangeline is not the sort of woman to whom one says no. Once you arrive in her chambers, she hands you something blue-green and silky.
“I think you will look ravishing in this,” she promises before helping you out of your old gown.
She pulls you into the expensive-looking garment and helps you with the many buttons on the back as she continues her conversation. “Forgive me for being forward, but I do feel that you are unhappy in your current position.”
You say nothing but turn your head toward her and nod in silent misery. She meets your gaze and continues, with genuine sympathy filling her cultured tones.
“So I must know, have you made any inquiries for other means of employment? Or received any offers?”
“I…I have heard that Lord Craven was looking for a governess for his young son…,” you venture shyly, thinking of the envelope he had recently sent the Dragon asking if she knew any prospective governesses she could soon send to him in Ravenscar. You immediately regret broaching the matter when you see the horror in Lady Evangeline’s expression.
“Oh, heavens no! I would sooner throw an infant to wolves than send an innocent young woman to work for Cousin Garraway!” Lady Evangeline shudders ever so slightly. “Well, let us hope we do not become so desperate that you have to resort to that. Anything else?”
“Er, Sir Charles Burley-Fanshaw has been coming to call, and I think perhaps he may—”
Lady Evangeline gasps. “Oh, my dear, he is ancient! I fancy you could do much better than him.”
“I’m afraid not, my lady,” you say quietly. “You see, I have been left without a dowry nor any means of supporting myself after my dear papa was lost at sea, and—”
Lady Evangeline finishes buttoning your dress and spins you to face the mirror. “That may well be, but on the other hand, just look.”
You look. The dress—cut demurely enough for a young unmarried lady such as yourself, yet somehow suggestive in the way it clings to your body—has utterly transformed you.
“You see, my dear, I believe you can do much better than purgatory with Aunt Aurelia or shackling yourself to an odious old toad. And it is high time we did something about that.”
She leads you back downstairs and explains further. “I shall make inquiries on your behalf for a suitable position. I’m sure there will be other offers for a charming young lady such as yourself. In the meantime, I suggest you have some fun with a few eligible gentlemen.”
Lady Evangeline raises an eyebrow suggestively. You only just manage to stifle the unladylike giggle that bubbles up, and she beams at you. “That’s the spirit! Now, whom would you like to meet first? My cousin, Sir Benedict Granville?”