Gayle Buck by Hearts Betrayed Page B

somehow bridge the yawning gap that presently lay between them. She assured herself that she did not want to cut Lydia out with the viscount, but only to discover what had happened that had so changed his feelings toward herself.
    Lady Basinberry nodded, satisfied. “Good, I am happy to hear it. You shall do me credit, despite yourself, dear niece.” She smiled at Michele and then glanced at Lydia. “Lydia, the reason I have come in is that I recalled that you had purchased a length of blue velvet ribbon. Might I have a bit of it for one of my gowns? My maid has pointed out that the gown needs a freshening touch if it is to last another wearing. As it is quite my most favorite gown, I really do not wish to replace it at this time, particularly as I intend to squeeze every last groat that I can into our entertaining.”
    “Of course, Aunt Beatrice. I shall come at once to find it for you,” Lydia said.
    “Pray do not trouble yourself, Lydia. I can as easily ask your maid for it, and she will be the more likely to know where the ribbon has been put.”
    Lydia giggled. “Indeed, aunt! I do not think that I could put my hand on any one thing without my maid’s aid.”
    “That is precisely what I was thinking,” Lady Basinberry said before she swept out of the drawing room.
    Lydia sat down to thumb through the latest issue of The Lady’s Magazine while Michele wandered over to the window. Michele lifted the drapery so that she could look out. “I hope that Lady Basinberry does not plan grandiose entertainments, since I have no wish to make any more of a splash than I must,” Michele said meditatively.
    Lydia looked up from her contemplation of a fashion plate depicting an elegant walking dress. “The purchase of a dashing phaeton is just what one needs to enable one to fade into the background,” she said affably.
    Michele laughed throatily and conceded the point. “You are so right, cousin. I have erred indeed. But perhaps I shall not excite so much notice if I make a point of taking you up beside me to deflect any curious stares.”
    “I should like that. I wish to gather as much interest as I can,” Lydia said frankly. When Michele laughed, she shrugged her slim shoulders. “It will be my one and only Season before I am wedded, you see, so I wish to dance and to be as merry as I can. Once I am a settled matron, it will not be respectable for me to kick up my heels.”
    Michele turned away from the window, dropping the drapery. She shook her head in amusement. “I wish I might see you a sober matron! Why, it is the height of improbability. You are nothing less than a whirligig when you become excited. I cannot imagine you in any other guise.”
    Lydia dimpled a shy smile. “Bernard says it was my liveliness that first attracted him to me.”
    “Then most definitely you should not become a sobersides, or Captain Hughes will become bored to tears with you,” Michele said teasingly.
    “He would not dare,” Lydia declared. “I would kick up such a fuss that he would be forced to take notice of me. Indeed, he would wonder if he had not married a very vulgar female!”
    “Perhaps you should try a little of that tactic on your unwelcome suitor. I doubt that his ardor would remain white-hot in that instance,” Michele said. “He was always a proud man, and he appears to me to have grown more so.”
    “High in the instep is more like it,” said Lydia. “I should be forced to suppress even my smiles if I were to wed that gentleman. His lordship is so controlled in his manners, so remote! I doubt there is even a dram of ardor in the gentleman.”
    Michele blinked at her cousin’s sweeping statement. She could recall a number of occasions when Lord Randol had exhibited a strong sense of ardor. But she said nothing, not wishing to open yet another painful door in her past.
    Lydia did not notice her silence, being busy with her own thoughts. She sighed as she looked over at her cousin. “It is not my nature or