Read Emily Hendrickson for Free Online

Ogleby the day before the event.
    “My dear girl,” Mrs. Ogleby cried, “how fortunate we are to be favored with the evening here. It has been many a year since the old lady entertained. I feel certain that your little dinner will bring back happy memories of days past. Do not worry about a thing; you will do just fine.”
    Juliet had invited all the cream of Woodbury society, the very people she had met when she attended that first dinner at the Ogleby manor house. The dinner proceeded well, with Cook excelling herself for her dear viscountess, so happy was she with a chance to show off her cooking skills.
    Mr. Wyllard and Juliet were a smashing success with their duet. Miss Tackley sang tolerably well with Mr. Wyllard playing nicely for her. In fact, Juliet thought she might promote an interest in that quarter if it proved possible.
    After the music Juliet served a light supper, and the guests sat around happily gossiping or conversing—depending on their given nature.
    “I told you not to worry in the least,” Mrs. Ogleby confided as she was about to depart with her husband. “If I do say so myself, Woodbury has a very elegant collection of agreeable people.”
    “You are so right,” Juliet concurred, smiling with relief that the hurdle of entertaining so many had passed with what appeared to be reasonable success. She closed the door behind the last of them and wandered through the rooms, thinking that she was indeed lucky. Everything was utterly perfect.
    “I intend to write the dowager viscountess and let her know what a nodcock her grandson is,” Mrs. Tackley divulged to her good friend and enemy, Mrs. Ogleby, as they were about to enter their respective carriages. “Imagine a talented and kind girl like that left to molder in the country without even one child to comfort her!”
    “Indeed,” Mrs. Ogleby replied, not being on letter-writing terms with the elderly lady. “It would be good to see them together again.” If they ever were in the first place, she added silently, unknowing how close she came to the truth.
     

Chapter 3
     
    The cream of London Society whirled about the Hetherton ballroom in a sedate waltz, revolving like so many leaves drifting from autumn trees. Alexander stared at the scene with a harried look, one that was hastily erased when he was approached by Lady Hetherton madly plying her fan.
    “You naughty boy, never tell me that you have at last become betrothed to Camilla Shelford. Rumors are circulating to that effect, you must know.” She tapped him not too gently with her fan, a sign of her disapproval.
    “I fear the rumor is grossly exaggerated, madam. I am not, nor will likely become engaged to Miss Shelford.” Alexander gave his hostess a speaking look, then resumed the bland expression he had worn since overhearing the latest rumor—an attempt, no doubt, by Miss Shelford to force him to the wall. The lady would find that he was made of sterner stuff than to yield so pitifully to her coercion. He would never marry her— not if he had to hide out in some godforsaken corner of the country.
    “I am relieved to learn that,” Lady Hetherton said quietly, her ire defused now that she had heard from Alexander himself that there was no truth to the rumor. “I scarcely think you two would be the least suited. Whatever is the girl about to be so brazen? Does she not know that the truth of the matter will out, in effect ruining her?”
    “I have come to believe she is slightly mad, my lady. She is determined to have me, and while I am flattered at her choice, I must decline any reciprocation of interest. I refuse to be trapped into marriage with any woman, least of all Miss Shelford.”
    “She is here, you know. I could not deny her mother an invitation, for we have been friends this age and more. I do not wish to send you away, for you are quite the handsomest man here, but it might be safer on your part were you to leave. As a matter of fact, I would seriously think about