evening completely. She’d been a
breathtaking vision in her pale yellow gown at the
Casino ball. Everything about her appearance had been
orchestrated to perfection, from the way the color of the
gown complemented her complexion to the blue trim
that matched her eyes in subtle precision. She had been
artistry in motion, a living, moving canvas for Worth’s
renowned craftsmanship.
But she was more than a mere mannequin come to
life. He’d seen both her panic and her passion last night,
and both had intrigued him, filling his restless night
with suppositions. What was in this for her? What did
she need her freedom for? He’d instinctively felt that
her laughter on the ballroom floor was masking something deeper. She needed this plan to succeed because
she had another plan that depended on it, but what that
was, Gannon had no idea.
Lionel poked his head around the doorframe of the sitting room. “There you are. I thought I might find
you here” Lionel nodded at the letters. “Not bad news,
I hope?”
“No” Gannon dismissed the missive from England
with an easy wave of his hand. “Just news from
home-all the usual” Creditors, debts, a flagging bank
account-nothing at all that the Carringtons dealt with.
“Good. I am glad to hear it. Stella’s waiting for us so
we can be off for the Casino. There’s tennis today”
Gannon rose and smiled good-naturedly. “And I thought the London Season was busy”
Lionel clapped him on the back. “It takes some getting used to. The ladies keep a highly regimented schedule: morning rides at nine, shopping at the Casino at ten,
swimming at Bailey’s Beach at eleven, and dancing until sunup” Lionel laughed. “Thank goodness it’s only
for six weeks a year. How did you like the St. Clair chit
last night?”
“I liked her quite well,” Gannon said as they strolled
through the wide halls of Rose Bluff to the entry, where
Stella had the low-sided phaeton waiting. He found
himself reluctant to discuss Audrey in terms of an object to be appraised.
Lionel raised an eyebrow at his friend’s meager description. “That’s all? She’s an excellent choice. You
could do no better.”
Gannon took offense at that. “No better? In terms of
what? Looks? Money? Connections?”
Lionel stopped in his tracks and threw his hands up
in surrender. “Whoa! I didn’t mean to raise a sensitive
subject. I thought you were here for a wealthy bride.”
Gannon faced his friend squarely. “I am, but I don’t
have to like it, and I don’t have to subject any likely
prospects to the same lowering experience I am becoming all too familiar with. We are people, after all, and entirely more than the sum of our balance sheets” Where
had his cold detachment gone? He sounded like Audrey
espousing her dislike of titled Englishmen.
“I am sorry, Lionel, I have lost my temper,” Gannon
apologized swiftly. “It is proving to be much harder to
complete my mission than I had anticipated.”
Lionel looked blankly at him. “Surely it’s not the lack
of willing candidates.”
“No, it’s not that at all. It’s me,” Gannon confessed.
There was Audrey, desperately in love with her freedom,
and there was the nightly sight of the elegant and inanely
happy Carringtons themselves serving as poignant reminders of what Gannon had elected to sacrifice.
Lionel pierced him with a shrewd stare. “Ah, I am beginning to see. Well, perhaps the lovely Miss St. Clair
will be at the tennis match this morning.”
Gannon shook his head. “I have it on good authority
she’ll be at the polo grounds this afternoon”
“Then maybe things aren’t a complete loss after all,”
Lionel offered, gesturing that Gannon should go ahead
of him into the phaeton.
Gannon said nothing, merely climbed into the car riage and sat opposite Stella, complimenting her on
the cut of her ensemble in an attempt to dislodge Lionel
from the topic and change the conversation.
The
breathtaking vision in her pale yellow gown at the
Casino ball. Everything about her appearance had been
orchestrated to perfection, from the way the color of the
gown complemented her complexion to the blue trim
that matched her eyes in subtle precision. She had been
artistry in motion, a living, moving canvas for Worth’s
renowned craftsmanship.
But she was more than a mere mannequin come to
life. He’d seen both her panic and her passion last night,
and both had intrigued him, filling his restless night
with suppositions. What was in this for her? What did
she need her freedom for? He’d instinctively felt that
her laughter on the ballroom floor was masking something deeper. She needed this plan to succeed because
she had another plan that depended on it, but what that
was, Gannon had no idea.
Lionel poked his head around the doorframe of the sitting room. “There you are. I thought I might find
you here” Lionel nodded at the letters. “Not bad news,
I hope?”
“No” Gannon dismissed the missive from England
with an easy wave of his hand. “Just news from
home-all the usual” Creditors, debts, a flagging bank
account-nothing at all that the Carringtons dealt with.
“Good. I am glad to hear it. Stella’s waiting for us so
we can be off for the Casino. There’s tennis today”
Gannon rose and smiled good-naturedly. “And I thought the London Season was busy”
Lionel clapped him on the back. “It takes some getting used to. The ladies keep a highly regimented schedule: morning rides at nine, shopping at the Casino at ten,
swimming at Bailey’s Beach at eleven, and dancing until sunup” Lionel laughed. “Thank goodness it’s only
for six weeks a year. How did you like the St. Clair chit
last night?”
“I liked her quite well,” Gannon said as they strolled
through the wide halls of Rose Bluff to the entry, where
Stella had the low-sided phaeton waiting. He found
himself reluctant to discuss Audrey in terms of an object to be appraised.
Lionel raised an eyebrow at his friend’s meager description. “That’s all? She’s an excellent choice. You
could do no better.”
Gannon took offense at that. “No better? In terms of
what? Looks? Money? Connections?”
Lionel stopped in his tracks and threw his hands up
in surrender. “Whoa! I didn’t mean to raise a sensitive
subject. I thought you were here for a wealthy bride.”
Gannon faced his friend squarely. “I am, but I don’t
have to like it, and I don’t have to subject any likely
prospects to the same lowering experience I am becoming all too familiar with. We are people, after all, and entirely more than the sum of our balance sheets” Where
had his cold detachment gone? He sounded like Audrey
espousing her dislike of titled Englishmen.
“I am sorry, Lionel, I have lost my temper,” Gannon
apologized swiftly. “It is proving to be much harder to
complete my mission than I had anticipated.”
Lionel looked blankly at him. “Surely it’s not the lack
of willing candidates.”
“No, it’s not that at all. It’s me,” Gannon confessed.
There was Audrey, desperately in love with her freedom,
and there was the nightly sight of the elegant and inanely
happy Carringtons themselves serving as poignant reminders of what Gannon had elected to sacrifice.
Lionel pierced him with a shrewd stare. “Ah, I am beginning to see. Well, perhaps the lovely Miss St. Clair
will be at the tennis match this morning.”
Gannon shook his head. “I have it on good authority
she’ll be at the polo grounds this afternoon”
“Then maybe things aren’t a complete loss after all,”
Lionel offered, gesturing that Gannon should go ahead
of him into the phaeton.
Gannon said nothing, merely climbed into the car riage and sat opposite Stella, complimenting her on
the cut of her ensemble in an attempt to dislodge Lionel
from the topic and change the conversation.
The
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