Tonight, she wore a gown from a new designer in Paris, the House of Paquin.The silk gown was of a lavender, so pale it was almost white.The bodice and front panel of the simple, A-line skirt were covered in delicate floral and scrolling tambour embroidery of darker purples, white and brown.Along the edge of the low-cut bodice was a border of brown velvet ribbon, trimmed with a narrow, pleated edge of white lace that cast a soft shadow across the tops of her breasts and ran up to the very edge of her shoulder before soft Chantilly cascaded in layers down her upper arms.
“I would say you look breathtaking.”
Fiona stilled her to the core.
Isn’t that how it always went?The moment your defenses were down...
Chapter 3
I just met the most marvelous gentleman!His name is Harrison Brudenall, and he is a marquis from London!He has come to Edinburgh to meet with Richard and a group of investors about something or another.And Richard tells me that it has taken him years to learn tolerance for the marquis because the gentleman once courted Abby!
I cannot countenance it, of course.The marquis is surely not so old to have wooed Abby when she had her Season so long ago.Nor can I understand why Richard would harbor any intolerance for the marquis.He’s so magnificently dashing and handsome, with vivid blue eyes that simply dance with laughter.
He teased and flirted outrageously throughout dinner until I giggled like a schoolgirl.Yes, I know at seventeen that I technically am such a girl, but I have never been the object of such practiced flirtation from such a posh London lord as the marquis!
~From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh—June 1892
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Ahundred eligiblemen in the room, Eve claimed, but only the one gentleman Fiona was most reluctant to greet dared seek her out.And it could not possibly be another behind her.She knew as much without turning to look that visual confirmation was utterly unnecessary.Only all too well did she recognize the deep, delicious baritone that reverberated with a little quiver through her.
“Lord Aylesbury!”Eve turned with a smile, holding out her hand in warm welcome.“Fiona,” Eve caught her by the elbow as if she sensed Fiona was on the verge of bolting like a startled deer.“You remember Lord Aylesbury, don’t you?”
Oh, LordAylesbury, she longed to drawl with dripping scorn.Why yes, I might remember you.Aren’t you the reason I’m still unmarried at the ripe old age of twenty?
Or perhaps a lovely lie?I’m sorry, I don’t think I recall a Lord Aylesbury.
Either would have been acceptable.
Either was better than being tongue-tied.
“Fiona?”
As difficult as it had been to summon the willpower to come to London with this moment as a mere possibility, it was even more difficult than she might have imagined, turning and facing him in reality.Her heart pounded a nauseating rhythm against the tight confines of her corset.The gooseflesh raising the fine hairs on her arms was at odds with the heat rising with the flush that was surely reddening her cheeks.Damn her brothers for forcing this upon her!
“Lady Fiona,” Aylesbury said, holding out his hand.
