Page 9 of Seducing a Frigid Lady
Yet she never quite seemed able to get through to her brother, especially not when it came to Priscilla. And Priscilla was definitely glad about that.
Deciding that it was best to get out while she could, she took a step back from where she had been standing between the two of them, and dropped into a curtsey. “Please excuse me. I think I should go and socialise.”
She had to bite back the urge to laugh when she saw her aunt’s angry expression, the one that said, ‘Why couldn’t you have just done that before you began this argument?’.
Priscilla offered her aunt only an apologetic expression, deciding it best not to point out that it had been she who had begun the argument and not her niece.
In order to avoid her aunt calling her back, she made her way in the direction of the pianoforte where Lady Caroline Montgomery was playing rather beautifully and singing along with her playing quite expertly indeed.
Using the loud noise as cover to pretend that she could not hear the argument still going on between her father and her aunt, she glanced out over the room, searching for Sophie.
At least if she was found talking to her she could pretend that they had been talking, trying to get the measure of their possible matches for the Season, something that would greatly please her aunt. That was if she believed them.
Her gaze had gone no further than the other side of the room when she caught sight of a pair of eyes looking back at her. Heart-stopping, her gaze stopped too, locking with the dark brown eyes of Lord Sinclair. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him there. After all, he had likely followed all of the other gentlemen through to the drawing room when her father had, but still, seeing him and the way he was gazing at her made her quiver.
She had been doing her best not to think of him ever since dinner had finished and now was no different. Hurriedly, she snatched her gaze away from him and started on her way around the room, deciding it was best to actively search for her friend if it meant avoiding the gaze of gentlemen, especially the gaze of one who had already unnerved her so.
Having barely gone more than a foot, Priscilla was astonished to find her path blocked by a mountain of fuchsia and orange tulle skirts. Even before she looked up from their feet, she knew exactly who would be standing before her. With gritted teeth and squared shoulders, she did so, finding Miss Selina Kendall blocking her way.
For the most part, Priscilla had managed to avoid her all night, just as she did at every occasion. Never had she and Miss Kendall gotten on, and there was no way that was ever going to change. And yet here she stood, looking at her with an overly happy expression on her face.
“You know, Miss Lloyd, I couldn’t help but notice just how well you were getting on with Lord Sinclair and Mr. Parr at dinner,” Miss Kendall commented, a flash of malice glinting in her brown eyes. “What will you do when your aunt finally succeeds in marrying you off?”
Bile rose in the back of Priscilla’s throat. Even more disgusting than the thought of marrying Lord Sinclair or Mr. Parr was the idea that the suggestion had come from Miss Kendall’s own lips.
“I am afraid I do not know what you mean,” Priscilla stated calmly and with as much innocence in her voice as possible. Straightening up further, she lifted her head high and glowered down at Miss Kendall, hoping that for once her tallness against other ladies of thetonmight actually work in her favour and intimidate her just a little.
If it did, Miss Kendall did not show it. She chuckled, almost to herself, and said, “Well, if you are married off, you will be forced to spend much more time in your own company without your dear papa to entertain you. After all, you’ll likely be off in the countryside and with your cold demeanour, I can’t imagine there will be many members of thetonwilling to visit you when your husband is not in residence.”
Priscilla immediately wanted to laugh in the woman’s face. If all it took was marriage to be entirely alone and able to do whatever she pleased, then she would have been married years ago. But they both knew it was not quite so simple as that. No wife was ever left entirely alone, if not by her husband, then not by the rest of thetonwho expected her to be the perfect host, the perfect mother and the perfect wife all wrapped into one.
“I would much prefer to be alone and in my own company than in the company of any woman such as yourself, Miss Kendall. Good evening.”
With that sharp and witty retort, and slightly amused by Miss Kendall’s horrified and offended expression, Priscilla turned and walked away. Now, with little intention of finding Sophie, Priscilla simply wished to be alone. Miss Kendall had always had the ability to rub her up the wrong way, getting under her skin far more than any other member of society, and suddenly the double doors that led out from the drawing room to the gardens beyond were so inviting that she could not stop herself.
The terrace outside the drawing room was not quite enough to ease her anxiety and so she continued on, down the steps and further into the garden. Stepping just outside of the lantern-light before dropping down onto a bench. She breathed a deep sigh of relief and tilted her head back with her eyes closed, enjoying the cleansing light of the moon that washed over her face.
To be alone in the dark of the night was far more entertaining to Priscilla than anything that was going on inside and she immediately knew, from the moment that she set herself down, that she could have happily sat there all night if she were allowed.
It was only when she heard the rustling of bushes at the edge of the secluded garden that she realised she was not as alone as she had believed. Sitting bolt upright on the bench, she peered into the darkness. Her knuckles turning white as she clutched hold of the edge of the seat.
“Who… who is there?” she whispered, not quite confident enough to speak any louder for fear that there might be someone lurking in the bushes ready to attack.
The face, dappled by the moonlight through the bushes, was unclear, but the dark eyes that looked back at her appeared frightened. Then they blinked, and the fear was gone, replaced by what appeared to be relief as the man stepped from the bushes to join her.
“Forgive me, Miss Lloyd, I did not mean to scare you,” Lord Sinclair announced with a dip of his head. “I thought perhaps you might be one of the young ladies encouraged out here to come and entrap me into marriage.”
At that, Priscilla raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “My lord, it appears you have a very low opinion of women.”
She scoffed inwardly, knowing all too well the nobleman’s reputation. It was quite clear from his escapades with women that he had absolutely no respect for them.
“On the contrary,” Lord Sinclair protested. “I have a very high opinion of women and find they are quite beautiful and intricate creatures.”
Priscilla rose from her seat, unnerved by the way he stepped towards her. She would not fall for his charming tone, nor the way he met her gaze, as though he wished to look deep inside her soul and know everything about her.
She could imagine that was the way he looked at every woman, just as every gentleman looked when they wanted something. She had seen that look on the faces of many men over the years, and not a one of them had ever succeeded in getting what they wanted from her.
Unable to stop herself, Priscilla blurted, “What makes you believe that I would not entrap you in a marriage?”
