When she’s not wearing out computer keyboards, Sandra spends time with her real-life Prince Charming in central Indiana where she’s been known to goof off and make moments count because the key to life is laughter. A Disney fan since the age of ten, when her soul gets bogged down and her imagination flags, a trip to Walt Disney World is in order. Nothing fuels her dreams more than the land of eternal happy endings, hope and love stories.
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The Earl’s Haunted Heart
Aurrora St. James
Chapter One
Finding a husbandwas infinitely harder when one was considered to have addled wits. Lady Eve Langley snapped her lace fan closed and surveyed the crowded ballroom at the Levinson Manor. Lady Levinson enjoyed a reputation in Rutlandshire for holding elaborately themed balls and had quite outdone herself tonight. Large swaths of silk in varying shades of blue draped the walls giving the illusion of water, while marble sculptures of sea folk were interspersed with large, leafy plants around the room.
“Do smile, dearest,” Aunt Cecily said from beside her. The older woman was kind with a soft-spoken voice and an air of elegance Eve could only hope to emulate. She’d come to stay with her family and chaperone Eve. “A gentleman is unlikely to ask a sullen woman to dance.”
Eve pasted a polite smile on her face, though attracting a man seemed unlikely. “We’ve been here for two hours. Not a single gentleman has shown interest in asking me for anything, least of all a dance.” Despite her father’s title and wealth, a respectable suitor eluded her. As her father had said, she was not unattractive, but men preferred a simple woman who obeyed and didn’t rouse the gossips whenever she left the house. Eve was neither simple nor obedient, and the gossips needed no further fuel than the sight of her to cluck like hens. She was too much like her grandmama. A woman whose husband had lockedher away until madness took her in mind and body. A fate Eve feared more than death.
“Perhaps I will remain on the shelf.”
Aunt Cecily’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want, dear? I thought you wanted a family of your own.”
She did. More than anything. But with every ball or dinner party, her dream of love slipped farther away. Surely there was a man of means who could see through the gossip and some of her more…unusualaspects of character, to the woman beneath? “Why is it so terrible to be different from others?”
“People fear what they do not understand.” Aunt Cecily touched her shoulder gently. “You must try harder, Eve. They see what you choose to show. Therefore, you must decide what you want them to see.”
“An average debutante with an agreeable dowry.”
Cecily laughed. “Precisely. Let’s have a tour about the room as we go for punch. I’m certain there’s at least one young man here who will find you entrancing.”
Eve followed her aunt, smile firmly affixed as they stopped to chat with other ladies of her aunt’s acquaintance. She answered a few polite questions posed to her and otherwise attempted to appear simple and agreeable. The entire experience was painful.
They were almost to the line for punch when a familiar voice caught her attention over the strains of a quadrille and the murmur of guests.
“She is rather odd. Are you certain you wish to marry her? There are a number of young women here who are more suitable.”
She knew the speaker at once. Lord Charles Barton was one of the few eligible men under the age of thirty at the Levinson’s ball. He was tall and handsome, with curly blond hair that looked soft. He’d smiled at her a time or two, but they’d never spoken past introductions. She’d hoped he mightask her for a dance. Now, her heart sank at his words. Whispered descriptions of her character often used terms like “odd” or “addled”. Were they speaking of her?
Eve spotted him a dozen steps away, speaking with a silver-haired gentleman whose back was to her. She edged closer to them, stopping near a large potted plant whose wide leaves offered a spot with which to hear them unobserved. Perhaps it was untoward to hide behind a plant to eavesdrop on someone, but curiosity drove her. To whom was Lord Barton speaking? From here, she couldn’t quite tell.
“None with the wealth her family brings to the union,” the gentleman replied. “I need the spare that your mother was never able to provide.”
She leaned closer.Mother?This must be Viscount Barton.
“I’m perfectly capable of assuming your title and responsibilities when the time comes,” Lord Barton grumbled. He brushed a lock of blond hair off his forehead and glared at the man beside him.
