Page 24 of A Bonny Pretender
Chapter Seven
To Swoon or Not to Swoon
Early April 1820
A London Ball
Brigid drew ina deep breath.Who is this bonny creature smiling back at me?The dress was stunning. Saxon blue silk with a square, low-cut neckline that left her shoulders bare. A finely woven silver shawl slung over her arms at the elbow provided for some modesty or warmth if she needed it. Her hair was knotted at the crown, a string of paste diamonds woven in and out of the curls that hung down her back. She felt like a princess.
“Oh my,” said Evie. “I knew that color would be perfect with your eyes.”
Evie’s dress was a cinnamon silk with yellow-gold beads sewn on the bodice and along the hem. The colors brought out her honey waves and set off her amber eyes.
“And ye look quite bonny yerself, Lady Brecken.” Her eyes narrowed as she took in Evie’s pink cheeks. “What’s happened?”
“You’ve come to know me so well.” She clapped her hands together and squealed. “Madoc just arrived. He’s dressing now, so he can accompany us to the ball.”
“I’m to meet the Earl of Brecken? I have a Welsh god in my head from yer detailed descriptions.” Brigid grinned. “I hope I’m no’ disappointed.”
Evie smacked her back with a fan. “Stop! He’ll meet us downstairs in the drawing room.”
She hadn’t exaggerated. Lord Brecken was devastatingly handsome and a contrasting dark to Lord Raines’ light. He had deep ochre hair, a closely cropped beard, and hazel eyes that always seemed to smile. Brigid wondered if that was natural or if Evie had put the joy there. He was tall and well-built and adored his wife.
For a girl who had never cared about romance, she suddenly wanted a man to look at her the way Lord Brecken gazed at Evie. With all her heart and a ferocity that rattled her. What had happened to her since she’d left Scotland?
Sir Horace and Lady Franklin joined them. They were both dressed to the nines. He wore a silver waistcoat with black tails and trousers. She wore an Egyptian brown satin dress with a gold overlay, and rubies at her throat and ears. They made a stunning couple with Lady Franklin’s dark, auburn waves and his fair hair and eyes. Brigid wondered if she and Lord Raines looked as lovely standing side by side.
In the carriage, she and Lord and Lady Brecken sat across from the older couple.
“How goes it in Wales, Doc?” Sir Horace asked his son-in-law.
“You should come visit and find out. The tenants were asking about you. It seems you made quite the impression during your visit.” Lord Brecken winked at his wife. “You could return for me, Sir Horace, and I’ll stay here and monitor the ladies.”
“Ha!” bellowed Sir Horace. “This is the only enjoyment I get in my dotage until there are grandchildren to spoil.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the younger couple.
Brigid giggled, enjoying the banter. There was a genuine affection between the men. She’d wager there’d been no complications when Brecken had asked for Evie’s hand. Without a father, it would be Grandda who would give permission for her to marry. Would he give it freely? She blew out a half snort. They’d sent her all the way to London to make her more “marriageable,” so she doubted he’d care who she chose. Except he probably assumed she’d marry a Scot. Grandda was known to get an occasional thistle up his backside. Once he put his foot down, it was hard to change his mind. If he didn’t like—
Ye dinna even have a proposal, ye eejit!she scolded herself.
They entered the ballroom of a marquess whose name she’d already forgotten. They ascended the spiral staircase, and Brigid lifted her skirt to avoid tripping. She’d had nightmares about entrances that included a long tumble and exposed petticoats.
She followed Lady Franklin and weaved through the crowd. Brigid hadn’t yet attended a crush yet, and this was close enough. Standing back-to-back with people in one hot, airless room didn’t appeal to her. It’d be worse than being a sheep in the pen, waiting to be shorn. Uncomfortable, smelly, and nothing to look forward to except freedom.
Brigid decided London had been a good experience for her, but she was ready for the quiet of the country. She missed doctoring her furry friends and arguing with her brothers. She missed young Liam pestering her all the time. She missed that blanket of love the clan tossed over her every morning and the sun breaking over the mountains.
There had been braw moments, such as her new friends, her first drive through the city, and meeting Lord Raines. Och, but the blethering Londoners, gaudy colors, interminable fittings, and utterly frivolous dialogue ensured the negative outweighed the positive.
The viscount didn’t care for London, either. She longed to see Castle Raygin, imagining the grounds and the orangery he had described. To think people—who weren’t royalty—grew fruits and vegetables and flowers all year.
Lady Franklin had stopped to greet with Mrs. Wilkerson, and Brigid scanned the room for Lord Raines. He was here; she felt him like a warm breath on the back of her neck. Her hand went there; it had seemed so real.
“I don’t believe you’ve ever looked as stunning. Every woman in this room will be green with envy.”
Her breath caught as she twirled to face him. She longed for him to pull her close and kiss her like he had in the woods.Such a harlot!She giggled. “Ye look quite dashing yerself, Lord Raines.” He wore navy blue tails with a silver and gray-striped waistcoat, and gray trousers hugged his thighs.
“Save me the waltz?” he asked, his eyes darting between her and whatever was behind her. He whispered, “I can hold you the entire dance without handing you off to another.”
“Sounds heavenly.”
