A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) by Diane Davis White Page B
Authors: Diane Davis White
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motioned for Allie to lie down, which she did.
Gratefully, Allie accepted the cool cloth offered and placed it upon her brow as she slid down the pillows in the darkened room. Imagination sparking or not, she still had a lingering headache. She had not eaten in hours and stopped the departing maid requesting a small tea be sent up, stating her hope that it would quell the headache.
Although there had been small cakes, fruit compotes and drinks served upon their arrival, Allie had not partaken, being miffed at the time and unable to eat when she was upset. Now, however, with the advent of interest having been served by her recent discovery of Lady Eleanor, her appetite had returned.
Bobbing a curtsey and smiling sympathetically, the maid quit the room, closing the door firmly and leaving Allie in near darkness. She closed her eyes and began to work her imagination, applying what she already knew of the interests of the persons involved.
First there was her brother, Sir Gordon, deeply in love with Lady Eleanor, yet afraid to make it known because of her attachment to Rothburn. Also Gordon thought himself unsuitable—just as he thought her unsuitable, due to lack of title.
Botheration!
Though she loved him dearly, Allie could not help being a bit put out with Sir Gordon, who proved stubborn in this matter. Of course, he had danced with the lady—perhaps here was hope.
Then there was Aunt Alana, whose denials were belied by her growing attachment to the earl. Just this morning Allie had caught her aunt gazing into the mirror with such a look that it made one wonder if she had lost her senses.
When questioned, Alana had stated she thought she might be getting more wrinkles and Allie would know soon enough the agonies of aging.
It had been Allie's considered opinion that her aunt had been contemplating a change of coiffure followed by some woolgathering that had left her with a decidedly moonstruck appearance.
The fact that Lady Alana had a small miniature of the Sixth Earl of Rothburn on her dresser was a bit suspicious. Where the small painting had come from was a mystery as well. It had not been there the day before.
And there was Lord Rothburn himself. Arrogant and rude—had he not professed Allie to be a boring school room miss? It rankled her no end that he should state this to her very own aunt and for a moment she was sidetracked by the thought of giving the earl a well deserved setdown.
Of course, she discarded this idea almost immediately as it would serve no purpose in her plotting. Although Allie still had an interest in the love affairs of the others, her main purpose had shifted from matchmaking for her aunt and her brother to catching a husband for herself.
Her new endeavor was to enlist the aid of Griffin in her intrigues in order that they might spend more time together. Then he would, hopefully, develop a taste for matrimony with her.
Griffin, of the dynamic and scholarly bearing, the romantic and flowery phrases, the new man of her heart. Griffin, constantly in her thoughts for the last two weeks.
As Allie's mind whirled with the possibilities, she eventually grew sleepy and drifted off, never hearing the maid who placed a tray of iced cakes and tea near her bed. The maid, for her part, chose not to wake the young miss who looked quite comfortable and not a bit hungry.
A murmur of voices drifted into Allie's consciousness wakening her. She sat up and attended them.
More possibilities! How marvelous, she thought, as her Aunt's voice drifted from the next room where the adjoining door had been left ajar.
* * * * *
"Really, Eleanor. You have no notion what you are saying! The earl is just a friend. I have no idea of attaching his affections. How can you say so?" Alana lied through her teeth, eyeing her rival with solemnity.
"That is not what I heard, dear Alana. How came you to be in the garden with the earl if you are as innocent as you profess to be?"
Lady Eleanor's voice was merely
Gratefully, Allie accepted the cool cloth offered and placed it upon her brow as she slid down the pillows in the darkened room. Imagination sparking or not, she still had a lingering headache. She had not eaten in hours and stopped the departing maid requesting a small tea be sent up, stating her hope that it would quell the headache.
Although there had been small cakes, fruit compotes and drinks served upon their arrival, Allie had not partaken, being miffed at the time and unable to eat when she was upset. Now, however, with the advent of interest having been served by her recent discovery of Lady Eleanor, her appetite had returned.
Bobbing a curtsey and smiling sympathetically, the maid quit the room, closing the door firmly and leaving Allie in near darkness. She closed her eyes and began to work her imagination, applying what she already knew of the interests of the persons involved.
First there was her brother, Sir Gordon, deeply in love with Lady Eleanor, yet afraid to make it known because of her attachment to Rothburn. Also Gordon thought himself unsuitable—just as he thought her unsuitable, due to lack of title.
Botheration!
Though she loved him dearly, Allie could not help being a bit put out with Sir Gordon, who proved stubborn in this matter. Of course, he had danced with the lady—perhaps here was hope.
Then there was Aunt Alana, whose denials were belied by her growing attachment to the earl. Just this morning Allie had caught her aunt gazing into the mirror with such a look that it made one wonder if she had lost her senses.
When questioned, Alana had stated she thought she might be getting more wrinkles and Allie would know soon enough the agonies of aging.
It had been Allie's considered opinion that her aunt had been contemplating a change of coiffure followed by some woolgathering that had left her with a decidedly moonstruck appearance.
The fact that Lady Alana had a small miniature of the Sixth Earl of Rothburn on her dresser was a bit suspicious. Where the small painting had come from was a mystery as well. It had not been there the day before.
And there was Lord Rothburn himself. Arrogant and rude—had he not professed Allie to be a boring school room miss? It rankled her no end that he should state this to her very own aunt and for a moment she was sidetracked by the thought of giving the earl a well deserved setdown.
Of course, she discarded this idea almost immediately as it would serve no purpose in her plotting. Although Allie still had an interest in the love affairs of the others, her main purpose had shifted from matchmaking for her aunt and her brother to catching a husband for herself.
Her new endeavor was to enlist the aid of Griffin in her intrigues in order that they might spend more time together. Then he would, hopefully, develop a taste for matrimony with her.
Griffin, of the dynamic and scholarly bearing, the romantic and flowery phrases, the new man of her heart. Griffin, constantly in her thoughts for the last two weeks.
As Allie's mind whirled with the possibilities, she eventually grew sleepy and drifted off, never hearing the maid who placed a tray of iced cakes and tea near her bed. The maid, for her part, chose not to wake the young miss who looked quite comfortable and not a bit hungry.
A murmur of voices drifted into Allie's consciousness wakening her. She sat up and attended them.
More possibilities! How marvelous, she thought, as her Aunt's voice drifted from the next room where the adjoining door had been left ajar.
* * * * *
"Really, Eleanor. You have no notion what you are saying! The earl is just a friend. I have no idea of attaching his affections. How can you say so?" Alana lied through her teeth, eyeing her rival with solemnity.
"That is not what I heard, dear Alana. How came you to be in the garden with the earl if you are as innocent as you profess to be?"
Lady Eleanor's voice was merely
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