Author: Stephanie Laurens
Category: Historical
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/34274_16
Infinitely preferable, given he was not entirely sure of her.
A surprise and a challenge—she continued to be both.
Taking advantage of his height, he scanned the guests, noting any gentlemen potentially useful for passing the time—for distracting her. Carefully avoiding Were. That had been a misjudgment; Were was a friend. He had never been one to fashion rods for his own back. Helena would not get another chance to consider Were, not if he could help it.
They were leaving a group of ladies who’d waylaid them when George emerged from the throng. One glance at his brother’s face was enough to tell him Martin had opened his lips to one person at least.
George’s delight was unfeigned; he beamed at Helena and didn’t wait for an introduction. “Lord George Cynster, comtesse.” He bowed extravagantly over the hand she extended. “I’m enchanted to meet you, quite enchanted.” The light in his eye declared that no lie.
Whispers: Interactive StoriesMake your own choices and decide what happens next!
“And I am equally glad to make your acquaintance, my lord.” Amused, Helena shot Sebastian a glance. “How many brothers do you have, Your Grace?”
“For my sins, three. Arthur, Almira’s husband, you’ve yet to meet. Arthur and George are twins. Martin’s the youngest.”
“No sisters?” Helena shifted her gaze to George. He was not quite as tall as Sebastian but of similar build. He had darker hair but the same blue eyes. The same somewhat dangerous aura hung about him. In Martin that had been less pronounced; in Sebastian it was more powerful, more blatant. Helena concluded that the characteristic developed with age and experience—she judged George to be in his early thirties.
“One.”
The answer came from Sebastian. Helena glanced up to find his gaze fixed on the crowd behind her.
“And unless I miss my guess—”
He stepped sideways, reaching through the crowd to close his fingers about the elbow of a lady flitting past.
Tall, elegantly dressed, with her brown hair piled high, the lady turned, brows rising haughtily, ready to annihilate whoever possessed the temerity to lay hands on her. Then she saw who it was. Her expression changed in a blink to one of joy.
“Sebastian!” The lady clasped his hand in both of hers and stepped free of the crowd. “I hadn’t expected to find you still in town.”
“That, my dear Augusta, is patently obvious.”
Augusta wrinkled her nose at him, at his censorious tone, and let him draw her to join them. She grinned at George. “George, too—how goes it, brother dear?”
“So-so.” George grinned back. “Where’s Huntly?”
Augusta waved behind her. “Somewhere here.” Her gaze had come to rest on Helena. She glanced briefly at Sebastian.
“Augusta, Marchioness de Huntly—Helena, comtesse d’Lisle.” Sebastian waited while they exchanged curtsies, then added to Helena, “As you’ve no doubt gathered, Augusta is our sister. However”—his gaze shifted to Augusta and sharpened—“what I fail to understand, Augusta, is why you’re gadding about London given your present state.”
“Don’t fuss. I’m completely all right.”
“You said that last time.”
“And despite the pan
ic, it turned out perfectly well in the end. Edward’s thriving. If you must know—and I suppose you’ll demand to—I was quite moped in Northamptonshire. Huntly agreed just a little socializing would do no harm.”
“So you travel to London to attend balls and routs.”
“Well, what would you? It’s not as if there’s any socializing in Northamptonshire.”
“It’s hardly the far end of the world.”
“In terms of entertainment it might as well be. And anyway, if Huntly doesn’t mind, why should you?”
“Because you wound Herbert around your finger before you were wed and have yet to set him loose.”
Far from denying it, Augusta replied, “It’s the only way to keep a husband, dear Sebastian, as I think you well know.”
He caught her gaze, held it. Augusta tilted her chin at him but shifted, then glanced away.