Chapter 3: Page 1
He should not listen, Lord Kinneas told himself as he
stood behind a laurel hedge while his beloved Selphie
flirted with Viscount Zell Dintch on the other side. Such
conduct was beneath a gentleman. Nor did he want to hear
what they might say. His heart pained him quite enough
already.
But when he tried to move, his legs would not cooperate.
"What kept you?" Selphie asked Dintch in a tone of
sweet mock-petulance. "I was beginning to think you
might not come after all."
"If you believe I'd prefer standing around a stuffy
library drinking port to strolling with you under the
stars, you are not nearly as clever a woman as I took
you for, Miss Tilmitt."
She gave a silvery little laugh. The kind Irvine had
congratulated himself on prompting that afternoon. Was
that rascal, Zell, kissing her hand or taking some
other minor liberty? Where Selphie was concerned, there
were no minor liberties.
"You flatter me, sir," she said. "I am not nearly as
accomplished as your sister."
Now Zell laughed. "There's a difference between
cleverness and being a know-it-all little bluestocking.
It was most unkind of you not to rescue me from one of
Jane's tiresome lectures during dinner. You were paying
me so little heed, I was afraid I'd done something to
offend you."
"Never!" insisted Selphie. "I had to keep Lord Kinneas
talking so Lady Quistis wouldn't get her claws into him. I
want the dear fellow to find a nice wife, not take up
with some dreadful little minx who'll break his heart."
Irvine clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. There
was only one wife he wanted. A hundred Lady Quistis's could
not have tempted him. Nor hurt him more cruelly, with so
little intention.
Gradually, Selphie and the Viscount sauntered almost out
of earshot. Irvine could hear only the muted cadence of
their conversation, frequently punctuated by Selphie's
laughter. He tried to steal away so he would not be
discovered and humiliated. His legs continued to defy
his will. He was still rooted to the same spot when
Selphie and Zell came closer again.
"In that case, may I have the honor of a dance at the
ball?" the Viscount asked.
He should not listen, Lord Kinneas told himself as he
stood behind a laurel hedge while his beloved Selphie
flirted with Viscount Zell Dintch on the other side. Such
conduct was beneath a gentleman. Nor did he want to hear
what they might say. His heart pained him quite enough
already.
But when he tried to move, his legs would not cooperate.
"What kept you?" Selphie asked Dintch in a tone of
sweet mock-petulance. "I was beginning to think you
might not come after all."
"If you believe I'd prefer standing around a stuffy
library drinking port to strolling with you under the
stars, you are not nearly as clever a woman as I took
you for, Miss Tilmitt."
She gave a silvery little laugh. The kind Irvine had
congratulated himself on prompting that afternoon. Was
that rascal, Zell, kissing her hand or taking some
other minor liberty? Where Selphie was concerned, there
were no minor liberties.
"You flatter me, sir," she said. "I am not nearly as
accomplished as your sister."
Now Zell laughed. "There's a difference between
cleverness and being a know-it-all little bluestocking.
It was most unkind of you not to rescue me from one of
Jane's tiresome lectures during dinner. You were paying
me so little heed, I was afraid I'd done something to
offend you."
"Never!" insisted Selphie. "I had to keep Lord Kinneas
talking so Lady Quistis wouldn't get her claws into him. I
want the dear fellow to find a nice wife, not take up
with some dreadful little minx who'll break his heart."
Irvine clenched his teeth to keep from crying out. There
was only one wife he wanted. A hundred Lady Quistis's could
not have tempted him. Nor hurt him more cruelly, with so
little intention.
Gradually, Selphie and the Viscount sauntered almost out
of earshot. Irvine could hear only the muted cadence of
their conversation, frequently punctuated by Selphie's
laughter. He tried to steal away so he would not be
discovered and humiliated. His legs continued to defy
his will. He was still rooted to the same spot when
Selphie and Zell came closer again.
"In that case, may I have the honor of a dance at the
ball?" the Viscount asked.
