Randall? How goes it with you?”
“It goes very well, thank you,” he said in satisfaction.
“I’m sure you have Lady Dorothea to thank, surely, not me.” His
smile reassured her she was correct on both counts. “By the bye, where is Lady
Dorothea?”
“Have no fear, she shall return momentarily.”
They stood quietly for a moment. “Isn’t life funny, Sir Randall?”
Larissa prattled on, encompassing the concept of grander schemes.
“In what way is that, pray tell?”
“You and I for example.” She took his bewildered expression as
the perfect reason to continue. “Consider the way we met and our unusual
acquaintance. One would think we would be at daggers drawn. But just look at us.”
She gestured to their elegant, peaceful surroundings. “Here we stand, now
related, albeit only just recently, behaving quite civilly, near to genuine
affection, I should think, and resting in the boughs of another. Not with one
another, you understand,” she clarified.
“Of course.” A shallow nod forgave her verbal faux pas. “Are you
taken with Lord Fenton?”
“Why, of course I am,” she stated, insulted that he should even
ask. Wasn’t it obvious? “He is like none other.”
“I do believe you have the right of it.”
“And Lady Dorothea?”
Sir Randall smiled. “I believe she is without equal.”
Larissa sensed affection in his voice. He did care for Lady
Dorothea.
“Miss Quinn, Sir Randall,” Sir Thomas White acknowledged the pair
when he stepped between them in the midst of his jaunt across the room. Dressed
in evening finery, Sir Thomas paused and made a hasty but elegant leg.
“Sir Thomas,” Larissa and Sir Randall chorused.
“A pleasant evening to you both,” was his gracious reply before
he continued on his way.
“My,” Larissa sighed. “He was in a hurry.”
“Apparently,” Sir Randall drawled.
“I say,” Lord Fenton exclaimed, lifting his arms to hold the
lemonade glasses out of the hazardous path of the retreating Sir Thomas,
avoiding a near miss. “Let’s do find somewhere to sit. Such a crush, don’t you
know. It would be such a shame if this should spill onto that fine frock of
yours.” He and Larissa left Sir Randall and found a place to sit.
A few moments later, Lady Dorothea returned to Randall’s side.
Randall felt his heart begin to pound at the sight of her. He could not get
over Dorothea’s ethereal presence. She seemed to float on air, her steps were
so light.
“The heat is becoming quite unbearable.” She opened her fan and
coaxed the air to move. “Would you mind if we took a turn about the garden?”
“Not at all.” Randall led her through the crowded room to the
rear gardens. The air was cool and fresh. From high above, the moon surrounded
them with a dim pool of moonlight.
Dorothea stopped and turned to face Randall. Her arms were bare
and she allowed the fan to dangle from her wrist.
“Where are your gloves?” Randall looked to either side of her.
“It is so very warm. I just want them off for a moment.”
“Where are they? Where did you put them?” Randall moved her
skirts, causing his hands to brush about her legs. Something was still not
right.
She let out a laugh that was more like a string of musical notes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to discern where you’ve placed your gloves. Either
you dabble in magic or you’ve a concealed pocket.”
Dorothea trailed the tip of her finger along his jaw to his chin
and gave him a playful smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She spun, taking a
step away from him and placed her fan between them. Drawing it open, she
allowed Randall time to study the lowering of her full lashes and the pursing
of her delicious lips. “Randall. May I be so bold as to call you Randall?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” he said. Those brilliant blue
eyes looked up at him. Her lips widened into a breathtaking smile.
“Nothing?” Her eyebrows lifted. “I did have one other
“It goes very well, thank you,” he said in satisfaction.
“I’m sure you have Lady Dorothea to thank, surely, not me.” His
smile reassured her she was correct on both counts. “By the bye, where is Lady
Dorothea?”
“Have no fear, she shall return momentarily.”
They stood quietly for a moment. “Isn’t life funny, Sir Randall?”
Larissa prattled on, encompassing the concept of grander schemes.
“In what way is that, pray tell?”
“You and I for example.” She took his bewildered expression as
the perfect reason to continue. “Consider the way we met and our unusual
acquaintance. One would think we would be at daggers drawn. But just look at us.”
She gestured to their elegant, peaceful surroundings. “Here we stand, now
related, albeit only just recently, behaving quite civilly, near to genuine
affection, I should think, and resting in the boughs of another. Not with one
another, you understand,” she clarified.
“Of course.” A shallow nod forgave her verbal faux pas. “Are you
taken with Lord Fenton?”
“Why, of course I am,” she stated, insulted that he should even
ask. Wasn’t it obvious? “He is like none other.”
“I do believe you have the right of it.”
“And Lady Dorothea?”
Sir Randall smiled. “I believe she is without equal.”
Larissa sensed affection in his voice. He did care for Lady
Dorothea.
“Miss Quinn, Sir Randall,” Sir Thomas White acknowledged the pair
when he stepped between them in the midst of his jaunt across the room. Dressed
in evening finery, Sir Thomas paused and made a hasty but elegant leg.
“Sir Thomas,” Larissa and Sir Randall chorused.
“A pleasant evening to you both,” was his gracious reply before
he continued on his way.
“My,” Larissa sighed. “He was in a hurry.”
“Apparently,” Sir Randall drawled.
“I say,” Lord Fenton exclaimed, lifting his arms to hold the
lemonade glasses out of the hazardous path of the retreating Sir Thomas,
avoiding a near miss. “Let’s do find somewhere to sit. Such a crush, don’t you
know. It would be such a shame if this should spill onto that fine frock of
yours.” He and Larissa left Sir Randall and found a place to sit.
A few moments later, Lady Dorothea returned to Randall’s side.
Randall felt his heart begin to pound at the sight of her. He could not get
over Dorothea’s ethereal presence. She seemed to float on air, her steps were
so light.
“The heat is becoming quite unbearable.” She opened her fan and
coaxed the air to move. “Would you mind if we took a turn about the garden?”
“Not at all.” Randall led her through the crowded room to the
rear gardens. The air was cool and fresh. From high above, the moon surrounded
them with a dim pool of moonlight.
Dorothea stopped and turned to face Randall. Her arms were bare
and she allowed the fan to dangle from her wrist.
“Where are your gloves?” Randall looked to either side of her.
“It is so very warm. I just want them off for a moment.”
“Where are they? Where did you put them?” Randall moved her
skirts, causing his hands to brush about her legs. Something was still not
right.
She let out a laugh that was more like a string of musical notes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to discern where you’ve placed your gloves. Either
you dabble in magic or you’ve a concealed pocket.”
Dorothea trailed the tip of her finger along his jaw to his chin
and gave him a playful smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She spun, taking a
step away from him and placed her fan between them. Drawing it open, she
allowed Randall time to study the lowering of her full lashes and the pursing
of her delicious lips. “Randall. May I be so bold as to call you Randall?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” he said. Those brilliant blue
eyes looked up at him. Her lips widened into a breathtaking smile.
“Nothing?” Her eyebrows lifted. “I did have one other
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