Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 07] - Married Past Redemption by Patricia Veryan Page B

spoiled brat of a brother, and—''
    "Your pardon, ma'am, but Norman has much to recommend him. He
has a good mind, and always his nose is in a book."
    '"And his hands in the sweets! Is a fat little ill-mannered,
sulky boy."
    Despite the harsh words, Lady Bayes-Copeland was devoted to
all of her grandchildren, knowing which, Lisette pointed out, "Had he
but been sent to Eton or Harrow, they might have brought out the best
in him. Only look at how well Timothy turned out."
    "Aye." The old lady's eyes softened at this mention of her
favourite. "But they'd have to dig deep to find aught of our Tim in
Norman." She scowled and counter-attacked. "And do not evade the point,
miss! What d'ye think of Garvey? Do you love him? Or is it too soon
after Leith for you to know?"
    Refusing to be flustered by these direct tactics, Lisette
evaded, "He has been very kind and generous. He is a fine-looking man,
well born, and with excellent prospects. He could only be a—a pleasant
husband. And—if it would help my family…"
    The old lady snorted. "A real love match! And with a lover at
the side door before long, I'll wager! Well, perhaps 'tis the way of
things for such as ourselves. Lord knows I'd my share of— Hum! Enough!
Nor suppose your grandmama can be forever picking up bills. I've all I
can do to keep my own tradesmen from the door. And besides, no good
ever came from gifts. If that indolent do-nothing of a Humph—" She
closed her lips and took a deep breath. "Your papa must raise his own
lettuce. Not look to me. Or to you, gal! They've no right to push the
burden onto your shoulders only because you're pretty as any picture.
And I could wish you would look otherwhere than James Garvey. He ain't
the man for you, Lisette. Had I to choose a mate for you, he'd be more
after the style of—" She broke off, and asked sharply, "Well—and why
must you be backing and filling, Strand?"
    Lisette's head jerked around. Sure enough, there he stood.
Bold as brass!
    "I was merely waiting for you to finish your remarks, ma'am,"
he said courteously, but with his eyes twinkling at the old lady.
    "And supposed it would be never, eh? Deny it, and you're a
shifty rogue!"
    "Either way you must think ill of me, so I'd best be dumb do I
hope to win your favour."
    Her lips quirked. She chuckled suddenly. "Neatly said. Rogue.
Now, what are you about?"
    "Merely claiming my dance with your granddaughter, ma'am."
    Lisette stifled a gasp, her heart for some reason jumping into
her throat.
    Strand said calmly, "It is my waltz, I believe…?"
    "You mistake, sir. You did not sign my card."
    One eyebrow lifted. He said a cool, "No?"
    She flung up the card and glared at it. His name seemed to
leap out at her. "Oh!" she said, in such obvious dismay that the old
lady frowned and shot an oblique glance at Strand's unreadable
countenance. "If 'tis there, girl," she remarked, "you must honour your
word."
    "I did not give my word," Lisette fumed. "Someone must have
written—" but she bit off that vexed accusation.
    Strand asked, "Do I understand you to refuse me, Miss Van
Lindsay?"
    His eyes were cold, and he was perfectly right, of course.
However slyly it had been accomplished, there was no graceful way to
deny him, and undoubtedly many were watching to see how she rose to the
occasion. With_an effort, she controlled her indignation and got to her
feet. "My apologies. I was surprised, merely. It is, as you said, your
waltz, Mr. Strand."
    He was not the best of dancers, but his clasp was firm, and at
least he did not count aloud, which she had half expected. Not a few
amused glances were directed at them as they whirled about the floor.
Gritting her teeth, Lisette went out of her way to be charming. Strand
vouchsafed scarcely a word in response to her efforts, but dreading
lest she appear a spoilsport, she persevered. "I can see you have a
kind heart, sir. It was good of you to dance with Miss Hersh."
    "To the contrary. It was good of her to dance with me."
    "Well, of