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Authors: Alexandra Hawkins

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BOOK: Sunrise with a Notorious Lord
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“Without a doubt, everyone will be envious of your dress this evening,” Isabel said, meaning every word. “What did Lord Vanewright say when he returned with the dress?”

Delia was already looking past her, openly admiring a group of gentlemen who had recently arrived. “The earl asked to see you, but Mrs. Allen told him that you were not receiving visitors. In truth, he seemed relieved by the news.”

“Oh … oh, really,” Isabel said, stung.

“Do not worry. Lord Vanewright did not stay long. He said that he was returning the dress to its owner.”

“Did he even bother reading my note?” she seethed aloud. “What else did he say?”

“Very little, actually. Lord Vanewright just told me to tell you that he had already found the lady who appreciated the dress. He was simply returning it to her. Naturally I thanked him. After all, the earl has been generous to both of us. Do you not agree?”

“Yes.”

“And do not fret. Lord Vanewright assured me that no one will learn who purchased the dress for me. So fear not, dear sister, my reputation is safe.”

Isabel finally noticed that one of the nearby gentlemen was leering at Delia. She stepped in front of her sister and glared at the man until he glanced away. They had just averted a disaster with Lord Vanewright only to face another one.

“Come along. We need to greet our hostess, and find Lady Netherley.”

In this crush of guests, Isabel was going to require assistance protecting Delia’s virtue.

*   *   *

 

“Vane, what an unexpected surprise,” said Sophia Housely, Countess of Rainecourt, as she greeted him. At her side stood her friends Lady Frances Lloyd and Juliana Braverton, Marchioness of Sinclair.

Vane bowed, acknowledging each lady according to her rank. “Good evening, ladies. How so?” he asked Sophia.

Wearing a blue dress that happened to be her husband’s favorite hue, the beautiful blonde was clutching her white walking stick with gold top. Partially blind since childhood, the countess depended on her friends and walking stick to navigate the crowded ballroom.

It was Juliana, Sin’s wife, who replied to his question. “Upon our arrival, Reign predicted we would see less of you this season than Frost—and you know how he detests these private balls.”

Frost detested private balls because they were often hosted by doting mothers who hoped to secure a titled husband for their young daughters by parading them up and down the ballroom like fine mares wearing golden bridles. While the earl had no intention of marrying one of these muslin-clad fillies, it amused him to arrive unannounced just to disconcert his hostess and the hovering mothers since his title and wealth opened all doors to him. No one dared to refuse him, even if he was the devil himself.

The
ton
’s hypocrisy never ceased to amaze Vane and his friends.

Vane gave Juliana and Sophia a knowing glance. “So your husbands have been gossiping about me, eh? And branding me as some kind of coward, too.”

“No one was accusing you of being a coward,” Lady Frances said hastily, her mahogany tresses adorned with tiny white flowers. “I believe the general consensus was that you were not tempting fate this season.”

“Diplomatic as always, Lady Frances,” Vane said with a slight smile on his lips. “If you are willing, I would be honored to dance with you later.”

Lady Frances inclined her head. “No, it is I who is honored, my lord. After all, any attention you bestow upon a lady this season will certainly stir speculation among the gossips.”

“It will, indeed,” Vane agreed, though he was not concerned that the young woman would misinterpret the polite gesture. It was common enough knowledge within their circle of friends that Lady Frances was pining for Mr. Derrick Griffin, though the gentleman seemed to view her as nothing more than a good friend. “I will consider it a favor. It will spare me hard looks from our hostess, and no one will be able to accuse me of shirking my duties in the ballroom.”

“Such flattery will go to Fanny’s head,” Sophia scolded lightly. “No wonder your mother is convinced you need her help in this endeavor.”

“Lord Vanewright does not mean to be rude,” Lady Frances said, coming to his defense. “He is simply being practical. Would you not agree, my lord?”

It was a pity that his heart only held admiration for the lady. Lady Frances was an extraordinary woman. From the corner of his eye, Vane noticed that Griffin was watching them. Ignoring the varying expressions of surprise on the three ladies’ faces, he gallantly took Lady Frances’s hand and kissed it. “Both of us may benefit from the flirtation. Do not glance in his direction, however; Griffin apparently has taken offense to my presence.”

Juliana had been acquainted with the Lords of Vice long enough to know that an unspoken provocation from any of the gentlemen could escalate into fisticuffs. “No fighting.”

“It never even occurred to me,” Vane lied. A riotous brawl always livened up a ball. He released Lady Frances’s hand. “Griffin seems content to leave you on the shelf. Perhaps he needs a reminder that you will not wait for him forever.”

Although she was slightly taken aback by his knowledge of her unspoken love for her childhood friend, she swiftly recovered. “I look forward to that dance, Lord Vanewright,” she said as she glanced coyly in Griffin’s direction.

Juliana slapped the collapsed blades of her fan on his wrist to gain his attention. “You have done enough mischief for one evening. You might want to seek out your disreputable friends in the card room before your mother decides to introduce you to that young lady in the poppy-colored evening dress.”

“What lady?” Vane turned his head, searching for the lady who had caught the marchioness’s eye.

“I do not know her,” Lady Frances murmured. “However, I covet her dress. A beautiful color.”

Sophia tilted her head, attempting to glimpse the lady her friends were discussing. “Perhaps Lady Benyon will provide an introduction for us.”

Isabel Thorne and her sister had been invited to Lady Benyon’s ball. Who had invited them? The old house the Thorne sisters were renting, with its worn furniture, suggested that the ladies were lacking funds and connections. Vane mentally chastised himself for not procuring the invitations himself. His family’s name could open many of polite society’s doors to the ladies.

Anticipation hummed in his blood as he caught sight of his mother and the lady wearing the poppy evening dress. As his gaze traveled from the skirt upward, Vane cursed under his breath. It was Delia, not Isabel, who was wearing the dress. Delia laughed at something his mother was saying, and he caught a brief glimpse of Isabel’s face. She did not look happy, which only seemed fair, considering his current mood.

Did the stubborn woman have to fight him on every trivial thing?

“What is it?” Sophia asked, the first to pick up on his annoyance. “Do you know the ladies?”

“No,” he said curtly. Though he was certain his mother was planning to remedy it. Fortunately, he was willing to accommodate her. “If you will excuse me, ladies.” He bowed and headed toward his mother with a dangerous gleam in his eyes that had people stepping out of his path.

“But the card room is in the opposite direction,” Juliana said to his back, sounding exasperated and a little annoyed.

Vane sympathized with the sentiment.

*   *   *

 

Isabel stood stiffly beside her sister while Lady Netherley and her daughter Lady Susan were debating which parks and gardens the Thorne sisters should visit.

“A carriage ride through Hyde Park should be done first,” Lady Susan recommended, and then added, “though superior equipage is as essential as your carriage dress. After all, the point of drive is to be seen by the
ton.

Isabel’s already flagging spirits plummeted. She and Delia were getting about town with the assistance of hackney coaches. She could not afford to add the purchase of an elegant carriage and horses to their growing bills.

Lady Netherley gave her a friendly pat on the arm. “Do not look so worried, my dear. You and Delia have us to watch over you.” She turned to her daughter. “We could all do with a nice drive through the park. Such outings are much more fun in large groups, do you not agree, Miss Thorne?”

“I-I suppose,” Isabel replied, her hesitancy earning her a sharp look from Delia, which she ignored. She was barely speaking to Delia because of her trickery with the evening dress.

The elderly marchioness considered the matter settled. “Oh, and you two must see the Chinese Pagoda at St. James Park. It was only last year that they installed gas lighting.”

“My sister and I are looking forward to seeing more of London,” Delia said with unfeigned enthusiasm. “It is a pity that our mother was unable to join us this trip.”

Isabel’s stomach fluttered at the mention of their mother. She wanted to pinch Delia for even mentioning it. Lady Netherley frowned at her sister.

Oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, Lady Susan asked, “Is your mother ill?”

In unison, the sister gave opposing responses.

Isabel tried to appear apologetic. “Forgive us.” She leaned closer and whispered. “My mother’s condition is something that is rarely discussed outside the family.”

Lady Susan’s mouth formed a soundless
O.
“I understand completely,” she said, leaving Isabel baffled since she had not really offered an explanation at all. “Then you have family in town?”

“Well, we have—ooph!” Delia stepped away and glared at Isabel.

“Forgive me, I did not intend to step on your toes. I hope I did not
ruin
anything,” she said, giving her sister a meaningful look.

“The evening is still young,” Delia replied with a light laugh.

Lady Netherley also laughed. “In a crowded ballroom, bruised toes are to be expected.”

Isabel could tell by Lady Susan’s expression that she was not satisfied with their answers, so she added, “Our father passed away, and we have little family left. Fortuitously, your mother has offered her friendship and her indispensable guidance during our stay in town.”

Lady Susan’s shrewd gaze switched from Isabel’s carefully blanked expression to her mother’s not-so-innocent one. “How old are you?”

“Susan, really,” an amused masculine voice drawled, startling Isabel. “And I’m usually considered the rude one in the family.”

Isabel spun around to see Lord Vanewright standing behind her.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

Vane allowed his fingers to dance lightly over his heart as he acknowledged his mother with a bow. “Good evening, Mother. As usual, you look so lovely, our father should worry that someone will steal your heart.”

He did not bother asking if his father had joined her. After losing not one but two virile sons, the man had slowly distanced himself from his wife and remaining children.

He critically studied his sister. “You look well, Susan. Ellen tells me that you and the children are living under our father’s roof again. So tell me, what are your plans when you are not scaring young ladies or bashing your husband’s head in with a bed warmer?”

“Christopher!” he mother exclaimed, walking over to him and placing her fingers on his lips. “Ladies, pray ignore my disrespectful son.”

Vane casually slipped his arm around his mother’s waist and gave her a brief hug before he released her. “I suspect you have warned your new disciples about me already.”

“Disciples?” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think your nurse dropped you on your head.”

Vane grinned, completely besotted with his mother. It was one of the reasons why she had gotten away with her matchmaking mischief. “No, my dear mother, I believe it was Susan and she was wielding a broomstick at the time.”

Susan huffed. “I chased him with a broomstick once.
Once.
And he behaves as if I beat him every morning,” she said to Isabel, who was edging away from their merry group.

“You have the wrong man. Perhaps you are confusing me with your husband,” he said cheerfully, earning a baleful glare from his older sibling. “So tell me, sister, are the rumors true? Have you swapped out your broomstick for a bed warmer?”

Before Isabel could think of a clever excuse to leave, Vane touched his mother on the arm and changed the subject. “Mother, it is unlike you to be forgetful when it comes to introducing me to beautiful young ladies. Who are your companions? I do not believe we have been introduced.”

His mother’s eyes boggled with amazement. “You are asking to be introduced?”

Now it was his mother who was being rude. “I can be civilized.”

He noted that Isabel visibly sagged with relief. The poor girl must have been holding her breath, wondering if he was planning to mention that he’d already had the pleasure of holding her in his arms.

Delia appeared to be the adept liar in the Thorne family. She offered him a guileless smile. “Lady Netherley, this is your son?”

Clever girl,
Vane mentally applauded. If he had not been present in the dressmaker’s shop, he might have believed her demure guise.

“Oh, I am forgetting myself this evening. Yes … yes, he is. Miss Thorne and Miss Delia, may I present to both of you my son, Christopher Courtland, Earl of Vanewright. Christopher, I would like you to meet Miss Isabel Thorne and her sister, Miss Delia Thorne.”

Isabel and Delia curtsied. “Lord Vanewright,” both sisters politely murmured.

Vane formally bowed, which caused his sister’s right eyebrow to rise a solid inch. He shot her a quelling glance. Both Susan and their mother seemed surprised that he could behave himself.

“Miss Thorne … Miss Delia, I am honored to meet you both.” And his remark was sincere. With Isabel and Delia in attendance, this evening would prove entertaining. “How long have you two been acquainted with my mother?”

“Not long at all,” his mother said, crossing in front of him to stand next to Isabel, as if she needed protecting. “However, with Lady Benyon occupied with her duties as hostess, I could not resist taking it upon myself to look after these young ladies. Can you believe this is their first visit to London?”

BOOK: Sunrise with a Notorious Lord
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