Read The Dashing Miss Fairchild for Free Online Page A

who took my house! Well, I must say, I'd rather you than anyone else."
    "Most handsome of you, sir. We are in your debt."
    Just then Clare saw two of the women she had seen at the millinery shop. Raising her chin, she gave them a cool, defiant look. She was cut quite dead.
    At her side, Mr. Talbot stiffened, incensed that anyone could be so rude to one he knew to be of the finest quality. He bestowed a searching look on her lovely face as she tried to conceal her hurt. He was not one to jump into a controversy without due consideration, but he had known Miss Fairchild sufficiently well to also know her to be a remarkably fine person. She deserved better.
    He took her elbow to usher her along from the park. “I believe you need some help, my dear. May I offer my services?"
    All at once Clare knew that she wanted nothing more than to depend on this man. He had something none of the other men she had met possessed. The quality was elusive, attractive, yet there. “Yes,” she replied. “I believe I should welcome that very much indeed. Where shall we begin?"

Chapter Three
    "I believe the first thing necessary is to return this infant to the care of his nurse. Then,” and his voice dropped to an attractive, rich vibrancy, “we ought to make a list."
    "A list?'’ Clare wondered if the time spent in the heat of the Indies had affected his brain. “What sort of list, pray tell?"
    "You must recall the young angelics who frequented the halls of Almack's the past few years, the ones who married and are off breeding the future of England?” Was there a faint hint of amusement in his voice?
    Incensed to be reminded of her spinsterish state, even if it was of her own choosing, Clare stiffened slightly. She glanced down at the Kennet and Avon canal that flowed through the heart of the Sydney Gardens where a painted narrow boat leisurely floated along, then back at him.
    Her voice chilling a few degrees, she said, “La, sir, if I could recollect all the young girls who realized their dearest ambition, I should have a memory of note, indeed. However, I daresay that if Miss Godwin and I put our heads together, we might form a respectable listing,'’ she concluded after another look at his face.
    "The lad has red hair; that ought to be a clue.'’ He continued to guide her along toward the exit of the gardens, ignoring her momentary pique.
    His very presence at her side seemed to offer a shelter from the barbs she fancied might dart her way if she braved the path alone. She quickly forgave him the mention of the young women making come outs, reminding herself she had no one to blame but herself for her position on the shelf.
    "I have racked my brain to think of a redheaded girl who might be driven to part with her infant. Alas, I cannot bring to mind one person. Of course, it may be that the father is the one who sports red hair. I am most utterly bewildered."
    The frustration that had plagued Clare the days following her surprising acquisition could be quite clearly heard in her tone, not to mention seen in her troubled eyes. Since these were directed at Mr. Talbot when she spoke, he received the full effect of the exquisite blue orbs, desolate with worry. The bewitching face framed in the attractive, and undoubtedly expensive, bonnet of the latest mode captivated his attention for a few moments before he escorted her to where a hackney carriage awaited customers by the garden entrance.
    A sudden clearing of his throat preceded his efforts to cheer her. He ushered her into the vehicle, then commenced to console the young lady. So well did he succeed that by the time they arrived at the house in the Royal Crescent, Clare had quite forgotten the snub from the ladies in the Sydney Gardens. She did not even notice the stout figure of her neighbor, Mrs. Robottom, as that lady paused not far away to watch Mr. Talbot assist Clare from the carriage, infant in her arms.
    Mr. Talbot paused before the front door where Bennison stood at the